“You’ll get more work done if you go inside the building.”
He looked up to see Dawn Leroux coming toward him, her arms full of files and papers.
“You think so?” he said, managing a weak smile for the pretty blonde. Dawn had been a guiding light in the midst of all his angst and confusion. His brother was blessed to have her in his life.
She looked very feminine in her crisp white blouse and baby-blue flared skirt. Very different from his brother’s usual girlfriends. But then, Jeremy reminded himself, his brother had changed.
Dawn stopped as she reached the door, her expression full of challenge. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, glad for an understanding, objective friend. “But while I’m trying to figure that out, I ought to tell you that I’ve been on the job at the church already. The daycare room has one coat of paint—sloppy and spotty—but paint, nonetheless.”
“So I heard,” she said, her smile as gentle as her eyes. “My friend Gabi gives you very high marks.”
“How do you know Gabi?”
He hated the excitement in his voice. He didn’t want to be excited. He didn’t want anyone to see him excited.
“We’ve been friends for years,” Dawn replied, shifting her load, her tone matter-of-fact and low-key. “We’ve gotten even closer since we both volunteer for a lot of the same programs at church.”
He’d never noticed either of them at church, Jeremy thought now. He’d been too caught up in his work, in his life, in his position, to put much thought into who sat behind him in church. Now, he was very curious. So much had changed. He needed to keep pace with all of it.
And he needed to know more about Gabi.
“Give me that,” he said, reaching to take Dawn’s files. In spite of his curiosity, he changed the subject to save grace. “I see my brother has you doing after-hours work.”
“I don’t mind,” she replied, her eyes lighting up. “It’s part of my job, and besides, I kinda know how the boss operates.” Then she grinned. “Tell me more about you and Gabi.”
“Nothing to tell,” Jeremy said, warning bells going off in his head. Could this woman read minds? “She seems like a nice lady.” Explain her to me, he silently begged.
Dawn complied. “The best. She’s been through a rough time lately.”
“She told me she’s a widow. That must be horrible. I mean, she’s still so young.”
Dawn’s eyes lost some of their light. “It’s been hard on her and the girls, but Gabi has a strong faith. Of course, the holidays are always the worst, but she’ll get through Christmas. She always tries to make it special for the girls.”
Jeremy took in that information, then nodded. He wouldn’t press Dawn to give him any more details. That didn’t seem right. “I can see that—I mean, she seems like a great mom.” Then he glanced toward the doors of the building, dread blocking out everything else. “Which is why she doesn’t need someone like me in her life.”
Now why in the world had he even said that? Too late, he saw the spark of interest in Dawn’s eyes. And the spark of hope.
“You might be wrong there,” Dawn retorted, pushing at the door. “You might be exactly what she needs in her life right now.”
With that, she left Jeremy standing there holding the files. But she turned once inside. “You coming in?”
He nodded at her through the revolving doors, still stunned by her remarks. “I guess I am.”
“So, have you made up your mind?”
Jeremy stood looking out the window of his brother Tim’s office, watching the river just beyond the bluffs. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tim swiveling his chair to face him, his eyebrows raised.
“No, not yet,” he said, turning back to the view.
Jeremy had toured the whole building, visiting with employees and family members alike, talking to each of them about how things were going. The place had kept on running without him, and he still wasn’t so sure that’s the way it should stay—without him. At least, he’d spent the better part of this morning trying to figure out if he even wanted to come back here.
But here he was, in the office at the top of the building. The office he used to occupy. And his brother was probably wondering the same thing. Did Jeremy really belong here? That was the question of the day.
For the last half hour, they’d tried to have a conversation. But as usual, Tim had been interrupted at least three times with one crisis after another. Tim thrived on crises and seemed to be handling all the balls he had to juggle with precision and decisiveness. Including what to do about his older brother’s return.
“Jeremy, are you listening to me?”
Jeremy cringed, thinking he’d once been that man. The one who came just after Wallace Hamilton himself—second in command. The one who asked the questions and got immediate answers. Now, he only commanded curious stares from the lobby to the newsroom and beyond.
Right now, his brother was staring at him, eager and impatient for an answer. “This shouldn’t be that hard.”
“No, it shouldn’t be,” Jeremy agreed, “but I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” He took a seat across from his brother, reluctant to be back in this office without being in the big chair, even if he had doubts about taking over again. “I keep thinking about the first time I came to this building with Da—with Wallace. I can’t seem to get past that.”
“I told you, you can have any position you want,” Tim responded, his tone firm but aggravated. But his eyes held a kind of understanding that was new and fresh. “I’m trying here, Jeremy.”
“I understand that.” Jeremy glanced at the neat, organized desk, itching to get his hands on today’s layout, longing to read over the editorials, to check the feature stories. Tim had everything lined up, ready to go. “I just don’t know what position I need to be in right now, Tim.” He drummed his fingers on the leather-covered arm of his chair. “You seem born to this. I’d hate to just up and take that away.”
The silent message hummed between them. Tim had been born to this. Jeremy had stumbled into it because of a deep, dark secret and his birth order. How could he take up where he’d left off?
“I do like it,” Tim finally admitted. At Jeremy’s questioning look, he added, “Okay, that was probably an understatement. I love it. But there are days—”
“I remember those days,” Jeremy replied, relaxing back into the chair. “I never realized that I probably needed some time off. I just never dreamed I’d be forced out in such a jolting way.”
“Nobody forced you,” Tim reminded him. “You quit.”
Jeremy kept drumming his fingers. No need to relive the vivid details. “So I did.”
Tim leaned
