Bonnie Winn - To Love Again

No one was in the house, but he knew where to look.

They sat out back on the porch that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Although he’d had new lighting installed, they hadn’t turned it on. Instead, an oil lamp flickered on the table and he guessed they held hands as they sat side by side in the ancient swing.

As long as he could remember, once he and his younger brothers and sisters had been put to bed for the night, his parents would slip out back to sit together. He used to wonder what they would talk about in their hushed voices. There had been worry, which he’d instinctively shared. He’d known his mother was happy, though. They’d all been. Because his dad had come back from the war—albeit injured. But even though he’d just been a kid, Paul had known they were lucky. His dad was an Air Force pilot and most of them hadn’t made it back from Vietnam.

When he saw his parents, he questioned whether a love like theirs was even possible nowadays. Take that unpredictable Laura Manning. Jerry had probably thought she was a sweet, caring girl when he married her. He couldn’t imagine his friend marrying someone so set on the bottom line, her chin practically dragging the ground because she wanted more. Had she changed so much? Or had she just fooled him?

“Hello, honey,” his mother, Elizabeth, greeted him.

“It’s quiet out here. No rugrats visiting?” His nieces and nephews were the delight of everyone in the family.

“Not tonight. How about some tea?” She started to rise.

“I can get it.”

“You sound tired, son.” Charles was close to all the siblings, but he’d always been particularly attuned to him.

This was the place Paul could always bring his troubles, always find understanding. He had already told them about Laura when Jerry had passed away, his concern for their children and her abrupt arrival in Rosewood. “It’s the Manning family. I’m worried about the kids. I hate to think about what kind of mess they must be living in.”

Charles leaned forward. “Haven’t you gone over there yet?”

“You think I should?”

“How else are you going to know exactly what the conditions are?”

Elizabeth patted his arm. “It may not be as bad as you’re guessing.”

“I’d like to think not, but Dad’s right, I have to see for myself. I’ve been putting it off because I’m not real sure what I’m going to do when I come face-to-face with it.”

“You’ll work that out, son.” Charles rubbed his chin. “Jerry put his trust in you with good reason.”

“And you can count on us to help,” his mother added. “Maybe the boy would like story time at the library. I could watch out for him then.” Elizabeth’s job as a part-time librarian had helped the family through lean times, and she had been able to adjust her schedule around the continuing surgeries Charles had to go through year after year.

“I’ll see, Mom. Thanks.”

“And you can bring both children here if you need to,” his father offered.

“Thanks, Dad.” He sipped his cool tea.

“How is she doing in the office?” Elizabeth asked, offering him a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

He took one. “She makes notes constantly, listens to every word.”

Charles stretched out his stiff legs. “Sounds like she really wants to learn.”

“For now.” He dusted the crumbs off his pants.

“Why don’t you give her an honest chance,” Elizabeth suggested, offering her husband the plate.

Paul stood. “It’s going to be a waste of time.”

Elizabeth frowned. “You don’t know that.”

“It’s not like you to prejudge people,” Charles said evenly.

“I’m just remembering Jerry’s instructions.” He leaned against the porch rail. “He wanted me to keep a close eye on the kids. He was probably worried that she would go through the money so fast there wouldn’t be enough left to educate the kids.”

Charles rubbed his bad knee. “Does she strike you as that sort of woman?”

Paul put his foot on the lowest rail. “She seems really needy, unhappy. And Jerry gave her a beautiful home and everything she wanted.”

“Maybe it just seemed that way on the surface.” Elizabeth shifted in the swing.

Paul sipped his tea, remembering. “Some women only think about money.”

“And some don’t,” Elizabeth reminded him. She had led a life of sacrifice for her family and he was ashamed that he needed the reminder.

“Your mother’s right. See for yourself, son.”

By Saturday morning, Laura was exasperated. The training was practically nonexistent. All she had done so far that week was listen to Paul’s phone calls and trail him around the office. She suspected his plan was to bore her to death so she’d give up and go home. But this was her home now, more of one than she had ever had.

She heard a loud thud upstairs. Then the trill of squabbling voices. The kids were wound so tight they were practically jumping off the walls. She needed to find them another outlet besides school.

The doorbell rang. What now?

Yanking open the door she was startled to see Paul. “Hi.”

“Morning.” He extended a box. “Muffins, fresh from the bakery.”

“Oh…How nice. Well, then, come in.”

He entered, his steps tentative. His expression, as he took in the tidy living room, seemed incredulous. “It smells great in here. What is that?”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.