when she’d accused him.
So when her parents had moved to Arizona, she’d left a week early for college without warning him. What could she have said that wouldn’t have caused more hurt? Their original plan had been to maintain their relationship and see each other during college breaks. Instead, she’d vowed to never return home again. Until now... She’d reacted impulsively, she realized, looking back. But there was no sense in wishing for a chance to make things right. Especially not with both of them on opposite sides of this battle.
Besides, those were the feelings of an adolescent girl crushed by her failed first love. Not the woman she was today. Not even close.
“You said this wasn’t personal.” The timbre of his voice deepened.
She shrugged tense shoulders. “It’s not.” Not in the way he meant anyway. This was for Tyler, not revenge on an ex-boyfriend.
“Then it’s for the bonus.”
“That’s none of your business.” Heat flared along her upper chest and crept up her neck. She needed that payment for Tyler.
“Fine. You win.” He sent her a sideways glance. “This time.”
She unclenched her hands when Daniel clicked off his windshield wipers. The rain ceased its steady drum and sunshine splashed down where clouds broke apart and moved off, revealing patches of blue. She squinted out the window and breathed deeply. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
Until they rounded a corner.
“And this is where your mother used to live growing up.”
Tyler kept eating and Jodi averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see the scene of her father’s accident.
“The next side road’s a shortcut to Aunt Grace’s house,” she said through shaking lips. “Could we take that, please?”
“But you’ll miss seeing Deep Meadows Farm. Remember the daisy chains we used to make?”
“Take us home, Daniel,” she ordered, voice thick. She clasped her trembling hands in her lap, recalling the dash to the hospital ten years ago, and her remorse for not being there to help with the skid loader borrowed from Daniel’s father.
“But, Jodi Lynn, you are home.” Daniel’s insistent tone softened.
“Home is Chicago.” Jodi said it to remind herself as much as Daniel. “I meant to my aunt Grace’s house. The tour’s over.”
Her voice was harsher than she intended and Tyler flapped his hands. He rocked forward in his seat and made a keening sound that pierced her heart.
“Tyler, I’m sorry,” she crooned, regret filling her. “We’ll be home soon and you can take a nap.” She wedged his stuffed animal beneath his seat belt. “Ollie’s tired, too.” She tried pressing on his shoulders the way the therapist had showed her to calm him, but couldn’t get the right angle.
Daniel turned off the radio and flicked his blinker on at the side road.
“No,” she protested when Tyler’s protests escalated to full-out screams. “Some noise is good. Do you have anything classical?” A familiar weeping willow flashed by along with a clearing that contained two grazing dapple-grays. Good. Getting closer now.
“Just 102.9.”
But when he tuned into the local channel, they were running through sports news, the announcer’s high-pitched voice making Tyler’s legs beat against the seat, his small hands covering his ears.
Familiar panic set in. The juice box she offered Tyler wound up on the floor beside the Fruit Roll-Up. The back of her neck grew damp and her eyelid twitched.
She knew she shouldn’t feel ashamed of her difficulty in controlling Tyler’s outbursts, but she did. It felt as if a marquee sign appeared over her head flashing Bad Mother...Bad Mother.... And the disapproving looks she got in restaurants or checkout lines confirmed the fact that, yes, she was being judged and found wanting.
How would they have handled this at Wonders Primary? She pictured the brightly colored toys and equipment in the well-lit, open space, the smiling, patient therapists who played on their knees with the children. There this tantrum might never have occurred.
This was exactly why she needed to succeed and head home as soon as possible. She wasn’t what was best for Tyler. They were. And the thought made her want to cry along with her son.
A few minutes later, Aunt Grace’s cedar-shingled house appeared through a row of blue spruce. Behind the tidy one-story, the deep navy of Lake Champlain shimmered. Tyler let out a piercing scream when they bounced to a halt.
“It’s okay, Tyler. We’re here,” she murmured as her hands struggled with the child seat restraints across his stomach. Her fingers tingled when Daniel brushed them aside. In one snap, he freed her son, lifted him out of the truck and carried him to the front porch steps.
Jodi freed the car seat, grabbed it and her purse and followed until a familiar voice stopped her.
“Welcome home!”
She whirled and sagged into Aunt Grace’s outstretched arms, her face buried in her familiar, lilac-scented shoulders. Or maybe the scent came from the purple, white and pink blossoms in the basket she carried. Either way, the smell made something inside her loosen.
“It’s so good to see you.” She stepped back at last and admired Aunt Grace’s soft pink blouse and gray slacks.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Jodi.” Her aunt’s brown eyes, set behind skin folds and creases, were still as piercing as ever. “Wish you’d come home under better circumstances.”
“A visit with you is the best circumstance.” And it was.
“I agree. If only your parents would come back from Arizona, too.” Aunt Grace wrapped an arm around her and led her toward the garden beds surrounding her porch. “How are you, Daniel? Would you like to come inside for some tea?”
“I think Jodi’s had enough of me, Grace, but thanks.” His eyes lingered on Jodi’s for a long minute before he headed back to the truck, his movements easy and athletic.
No sooner had he grabbed their suitcases than he dropped them again to lunge after a bolting Tyler. A tern, Tyler’s target, squawked and flew from Aunt Grace’s dock directly behind her small house.
Jodi clutched her chest, grabbing the locket containing Tyler’s baby picture, her heart beating like the frantic bird’s wings. If not for Daniel’s lightning reflexes, Tyler might have ended up in the water, or worse, on the rocks that flashed just above the surface before the lake bed dropped off. She’d been so fixed on watching Daniel that she’d missed her son’s dash. Her “Bad Mother” marquee flashed on again.
“Daniel, thank you,” she said when he deposited Tyler in her arms. Her son kicked and protested until Grace offered him a cookie and led him inside.
Daniel’s face creased. “No need to thank me. It’s what neighbors do, Jodi. Help each other.”
And just like that her gratitude dissolved into irritation.
