Yesterday's Tomorrows (15 page)

I
picked
at a small piece of fuzz on my new borrowed sweater while we drove to Holt's parent's house. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I'd tried everything I could think of to get out of going, but Holt said it was always fun times and good food. Besides, he said, his mother insisted, and he wasn't going to start disobeying her now. He'd winked and laughed, but his statement only made it worse. I was intimidated at being surrounded by what sounded like such a close-knit family.

"Relax. It's just a carefree afternoon and dinner. Why does that make you so nervous?"

"I didn't grow up in your kind of family, Holt. We didn't have Sunday dinners. Your family is a bit overwhelming to someone like me." I crossed my arms in a bit of a defensive gesture. "And I'm not like Claire." I hated how that sounded like a pout, but there it was - my new biggest insecurity.

He didn't answer, but I felt the truck lurch forward a little faster, so I knew he'd heard me and was probably pissed at me again. It didn’t help my nerves which had been stretched to the limit over that past twenty-four hours. To say they’d been a whirlwind was an understatement - Charly, the fire, Holt’s tragic reveal, and then a very long interview by first the fire marshal and then the police that took up most of yesterday afternoon.

Holt had stayed by my side the entire time. Mr. M had shown up as well. At least this time I was well represented legally. Their belief in me gave me the confidence to keep calm and answer all the questions, even those that sometimes sounded accusatory. I knew the officers were just doing their job, covering all angles and making sure I wasn’t involved in any kind of crime. But having been tripped up by the law once before, it wasn’t a far stretch for me to believe I’d be unjustly accused a second time.

Holt was silent the remaining few minutes it took to make the rest of the trip, and by the time we pulled into the driveway of a beautiful red brick home, I was sick with misery. He turned the engine off but didn't make any move to get out. I certainly wasn't anxious to face his family, so I sat, too.

He stared at the house over the steering wheel. "No, you definitely aren't Claire,” he stated, and my heart sunk. Maybe I could make an excuse of being sick and call a cab. I could find my way back to his apartment and be packed and gone by the time the dinner was over.

“Claire was beautiful, gracious, and kind, no question,” he continued. He pried my hand off my leg where it was biting into my thigh to distract me from crying. He kissed the back of my hand, and I looked up, startled by his gesture. “I may not know the kind of life you lived before we met, but the Madelyn Stone I know is strong, smart, and just as pretty. My family will see her the same way. I only wish you could see her that way, too."

Stunned by his words, I could only stare at him.

"What do you say, Maddy? Give us a chance?” He winked at me. “I promise, I'm the worst of the bunch, and you've managed to survive me. And my mom wouldn't have insisted that you come if she didn't like who she met yesterday."

His words cracked open a vault of need. The longing for acceptance and love of a family pumped out and spilled into my veins and pulsed throughout my body. If Holt, who knew the worst part of my ugly past and still saw me this way and was willing to share his family with me, I would accept it.

"Okay." I smiled shyly. He squeezed my hand and hopped out of the truck. I sat for the few seconds, trying to calm my heart. He opened my door with a smile, and I accepted his help getting down. The butterflies in my stomach were still there, but the pit of dread was gone.

The front door opened, and his mom moved down to the front step. Before anyone could say anything, a 'woof' sounded and a huge black blur came barreling at us. It attacked Holt first, then suddenly a long pink tongue and black fur found me, knocking me on my butt. I laughed as I tried to avoid getting licked across the mouth.

"Buddy! Down, boy," I heard Holt call. The large dog sat, his tail continuing to wag while his tongue licked my hands.

I managed to get to my knees. "Oh, you're a big boy, aren't you," I crooned, using both hands to scratch behind his ears.

"Okay, Buddy. Leave her alone."

I stood as Buddy ran back to Holt, and gave him a lick before running back to me. As I reached down to pet the beautiful lab, Buddy rolled over on his back. "Oh, you wanna a tummy rub?" I squatted and ran my fingers up and down his stomach.

"I'll be damned," a new voice said.

I glanced up and saw a man I'd never met watching me. Embarrassed, I stood and wiped my hands on my pants. Buddy sat at my feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail wagging up a storm of dirt.

"Hey, Buddy," the man said, holding his left hand out to the dog. Buddy's ears perked up and licked his hand, but never moved from my side.

The man who looked so much like Holt he had to be his brother grinned and held out his clean hand. "Hi, I'm Cal. I've never seen that dog leave Holt's side when he comes home. You're either some kind of sorceress or a steak in disguise." He waggled his eyebrows up and down, leaned toward me, and whispered, "And despite the fact my little brother is looking at you like a piece of meat ,as well as glaring like he wants to kill me for being this close, I'm guessing you’re the former.” He winked and stepped back.

His smile was utterly charming, and although he’d unnerved me a bit with his comment about Holt, I warmed to him immediately. "I'm Maddy," I replied.

“Enchanté,” he grinned and raised my hand for a kiss.

"Callum Andrews, behave! Don't scare away our guest," his mom called from the door at the same time a beautiful brunette nudged him out of the way.

"Please, forgive my husband. Sometimes he's like having another child." She adjusted the most adorable baby in her arms and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Sara, this is Cara, and yes, she's a combination of my and Cal's name."

Recognition suddenly hit me. This was the same woman I'd seen with Holt my first day on the bus; the same woman who'd so generously loaned me clothes. I detested the immediate relief I experienced knowing the woman from the bus window was a family member.

"I'm Maddy, and she's adorable!" I exclaimed as I accepted her hand. She squeezed it warmly instead of shaking it. "I can't thank you enough for loaning me these clothes until I can get some more."

She released my hand waved hers airily. "Oh, pish. They're not a loan. Keep them."

"But Holt told me about your store. You have to let me at least pay you, so you don't lose sales."

She shot Holt a look I couldn't quite interpret before looking me in the eyes, before smiling at me. "Don't worry about it, Maddy. My store does very well if I do say so myself. Some of the clothes were mine, pre-baby that don't fit me anymore, but every girl deserves some new clothes, too, so I picked out a couple from the designer side, too."

Before I could argue further, Molly hollered, "I don't know why you insist on standing outside talking, especially with that baby. What must Madelyn think of us?"

Cal rolled his eyes. "Coming, Mom." He leaned in conspiratorially. "If you've already got that woman to care about what you think, you
must
be a sorceress. I only hope you can do the same for my brother."

He grabbed his wife's hand and walked to the house, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

"Come on in, Madelyn. Meet the rest of the family," Molly called out.

Holt, who'd finally gotten Buddy to leave my side by throwing a stick to chase, stepped up beside me.

I stared at him suspiciously. "You bought those clothes from Sara, didn't you?"

He looked back at me warily. "What makes you think that?"

"Just a feeling I got when we were talking. Did you?"

"No, she sent the clothes over on her own. I just made a small contribution to her store."

I shook my head. "That's too much. I'll pay you back."

"You don't do well with people helping you, do you?"

"I've learned the hard way that there’s always a price attached. And you've already done more for me than anyone else I know, except the McCloskeys. They're always the exception."

He leaned in close. "Well, maybe you should add one more to your list, Madelyn Stone." He turned and headed up the steps. "Come on, Buddy." Buddy bounded up the steps, but turned back to me and whimpered until I followed. Holt shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like ‘dog whisperer.’

Inside, the day passed better than I could have ever hoped. The entire Andrews clan was outgoing, warm, and welcoming. They joked and teased each other, and I found myself letting down my guard and even joining in on occasion. I loved playing with Holt’s younger niece and nephews, four-year-old Andrew and nine-year-old twins Jamie and Brittany, who belonged to his sister, Carol. Her oldest son, a fourteen-year-old, Ethan, mostly played an electronic game he had brought with him. Eventually, Holt went off with his brother and dad to watch a football game and left me with his mom, Sara, and Carol. At first, I was nervous, but they were natural and easy to be around. When it was time to prepare dinner, I was treated like one of the family and given the task of preparing a salad.

The only time things got a little tense was a short while after dinner when Carol asked Ethan if he'd finished his math homework. Typical of most teenagers, he grumbled about having to do homework over a weekend. Carol gave him his marching orders and said she'd be in to help him as soon as she helped clean up the kitchen and get dessert prepared.

"You don't know what you're doing. Why does Dad have to be gone? He's the only one who can do this stuff,” he grumbled under his breath, but not quiet enough that we could all still hear him as he stormed off.

Holt started after him with a grim frown, but I grabbed his arm. "Let me try. I bet he won't fight me as hard, and it's kind of what I do."

Carol snorted. "You don't know what you're volunteering for, and I'd never sacrifice you that way," she said with a wry grin.

I assured her I didn't mind and went to find him at the end of the dining room table that had already been cleared off. He was still mumbling under his breath and throwing a book and papers onto the table with extra force.

"Hey, Ethan. I thought maybe I could try to help you? I'm pretty good at math."

He flushed when he saw I wasn't his mom. "Sure," he shrugged.

For the next forty minutes, we sat and went through the first few problems until he was able to solve the last few on his own

"Wow," he exclaimed. "I can't believe it. Usually, only my dad can explain it to me.”

“I bet you miss him,” I commented.

He glanced up at me. “Sometimes I hate that he's in the Navy. It takes him away a lot. I mean, doesn't he love us enough to do something else?" Anger tinted his cheeks red and punctuated his movements as he roughly shoved everything into his backpack.

I helped Ethan pack up while I thought about how to best answer his question. "Ethan, I'm no expert, but there are a lot of different kinds of dads out there. Some have jobs that require them to be gone for periods of time. Others spend long hours on the job or have other dangerous jobs. Some coach their son's sports team. But one thing I think all good dads have in common is to make sure their kids are taken care of. Your dad has chosen an honorable job of serving his country. He works long, hard hours and gives up a lot of what he'd rather be doing to make sure you have a safe country to grow up in. I'm pretty sure your dad would love nothing more than to be at home with you, and your brothers and sister, and your mom. So even though he's not here every day, that's not how to judge how much he loves you. He has a job most don’t have the courage to do, and you should be proud of him."

"But isn't choosing to be in the military choosing to leave your family?" he challenged sullenly.

I shook my head. "It isn't the same at all,” I answered firmly. “Like I said, you can't measure how much he loves you only by the number of hours he's at home. Some dads come home every night, but don't worry about whether their kid has enough food to eat or electricity to keep them warm at night. Some drink or gamble. You’re old enough to know what I mean."

Ethan hung his head. "Was your dad in the military?"

“No.” I shook my head; he didn't need to know what kind of dad I had.

Ethan was silent for a minute, and I suspected he was working out all I’d said. He blew out a breath and nodded. "I guess you're right. It’s hard, but I hadn't thought of it that way. I just sometimes get kind of scared something bad’s gonna happen to him like Uncle Holt.”

“All the more reason to be proud of him and appreciate how hard he works.”

He nodded his head. “Thanks for helping me with my math."

I gave him a one-armed hug. "Any time, Ethan. Just have your mom call your Uncle Holt if you need more help. He can get me a message."

"I definitely will," a deep voice sounded from the other side of the room. He approached the table and rubbed his nephew's head. "Go find your mom. She's got some dessert for you."

As Ethan had scurried off for his treat, I tried to follow, but Holt stepped in front of me. "A numbers girl, huh?”

I shrugged. “Numbers don’t lie.”

“They can be manipulated to prove what people want,” he challenged.

“That’s people doing it, not the numbers,” I reminded him.

He nodded thoughtfully. “True.” He jerked his head in the direction Ethan had gone. “I heard everything you said to him."

I peered at him. "I just wanted to help him see his dad in a better light."

"I think there's more to it. I heard what you didn't say, too. I suspect your insight about bad fathers comes firsthand?"

I shrugged but avoided looking at him.

Holt sighed. "You're really a closed book, aren't you, Maddy?"

"Some stories aren't worth reading, Holt," I answered quietly.

"But
you're
worth it, Madelyn. You have to know that." The sincerity in his voice drew my focus back to his face. His eyes were so intense as they burned into mine that I swayed on my feet. The hand I reached out to catch myself landed on his chest where I could feel nothing but solid muscle.