his nostrils flaring when he took a breath. “They deserve better than this.” Another pause. “And so do you.”
His words hit her. Hard. Not that people hadn’t been kind since her return. But it’d been an uncomfortable kindness mostly, a ragtag collection of mumbled “sorries” and brief, awkward hugs, soon replaced by either gaping silence or a false cheeriness that made her want to scream. With Levi, though—it wasn’t the same, that’s all. Although it wouldn’t be, would it?
“Thank you—”
“You can give me a list, if you want. Might as well start with this porch, though.” He shifted his weight into the next plank over, making it squawk. “Some of these floorboards look pretty sketchy—”
“Levi.”
He looked up, his brow creased. “Yeah?”
“Why?”
It was all she could think to say. Not enough, however, to provoke an answer.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” he said softly, then went down the steps and back across the street, where he got into a black pickup, slamming the door before taking off. Toward his parents’ house, she imagined, where she’d heard via the grapevine he was staying.
Val rearranged the now sleeping baby in her arms and grabbed the wet paintbrush, then went back inside, where she dumped the brush into the chipped kitchen sink before hauling Risa upstairs to put her in her crib. This and Josie’s room were the only ones she’d painted so far: a pale aqua in here, yellow in Josie’s. The gouged pine floors still needed to be redone. Along with a dozen other projects that made Val’s head hurt to think about.
Because the house was a wreck, the victim of decades of benign neglect and an old woman’s failing eyesight. Yes, being so close to Tommy’s parents was a blessing, and the family was being very generous in so many ways. But the idea of going through renovations on top of everything else...
All of which had sounded perfectly feasible when Angelita Lopez had promised the house to them two years ago, for when Tommy came back home.
A thought Val deliberately let linger, as though to toughen her heart. So when this one—she leaned over the crib to finger Risa’s soft curls—asked about her daddy, Val would be able to speak with love, not pain. Less pain, anyway.
Risa flipped onto her back, arms splayed like she was making snow angels. A smile flickered across the baby’s mouth, making Val smile in return, her heart swell. Because life, she sternly reminded herself, was about cherishing what you had, not regretting what you’d lost. About accepting the gifts that came your way. Even those that, at first glance, seemed more trouble than they were worth. Like this butt-ugly house.
Like, say, offers from the last man in the world you wanted to deal with right now—or ever—to help fix up said butt-ugly house.
Val sighed.
Back downstairs, she peeked into the cave-like living room, a hodgepodge of dull, dark wood and mismatched furniture pieces. Eyes glued to the TV screen, Josie sat cross-legged on the sofa, pointy elbows digging into scabbed bare knees. The hound stretched on the cushion beside her, dead to the world, chin and paws propped on the sofa’s arm.
“Is he gone?” Josie asked.
“He is. Whatcha watching?” As if she didn’t know.
“Elf.”
Val smiled. “Again?”
The little girl shrugged. “I like it,” she said, and Val’s heart twisted. On his last leave—two Christmases ago—Tomas and Josie had watched the movie together a million times. Then Josie forgot about it...until she found the DVD when they unpacked.
“This was Daddy’s favorite scene,” her daughter said softly, and Val decided this was part of that toughening-up-her-heart thing. Although if a stupid movie helped her baby still feel connected to her father, she’d take it. Because Val knew those memories would fade, would be replaced by a whole life’s worth of new ones. Oh, there’d be scraps left, of course, but they’d be as soft and faded as the ribbons from Val’s wedding bouquet.
“Fried chicken okay for dinner?”
Josie nodded again, then pulled her knees up to her chin, her far-too-old gaze swinging to Val’s.
“So that was Levi,” Josie said, and Val nearly choked.
“It was. Did...Daddy talk to you about him?”
“Uh-huh,” she said easily, her gaze returning to the TV. “He said if anything happened to him? Levi would take care of us.”
Val could barely hear her own voice for the clanging inside her head. “When did Daddy say that?”
Josie shrugged. “Before he left. The last time. He said if he didn’t come back, Levi would make sure we were okay. Because they were best friends, that Levi always had his back. That...” The little girl frowned, as though she was trying to remember, then smiled. “That, except for you, he trusted Levi more than anyone in the world.”
Val dropped onto the edge of the craptastic armchair at right angles to the sofa, pressing her hand to her stomach as she rode out a new wave of anger. What the hell were you thinking, Tommy? To confide in Josie—who was only five at the time—rather than her...
Not to mention even suggest that he might not come back.
Val shut her eyes, breathing deeply. Funny how, with her background, Val had always considered herself a realist. Not a pessimist, exactly, but fully aware of how often things could go wrong. Tomas, though...he’d been the dreamer, the idealist, seeing silver linings where Val only saw clouds, giving her glimpses of shiny hope peeking through years of gloom and doom. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him. And consequently why, every time he left, she’d steeled herself against the possibility that he might not come home. Especially considering his particular job. “High risk” didn’t even begin to cover it.
But little girls shouldn’t have to worry about such things, or live in fear about what might happen. All she’d wanted—which Tomas knew—was to make a safe, secure life for her children. That her sweet, gentle husband had gone behind her back, undermining everything she’d fought so hard for—
“Mama? What’s wrong?”
How about everything?
“I... I didn’t know. About what Daddy said.”
“You mad?”
She smiled—tightly—before holding out her arms. Josie clumsily slid off the sofa to climb on Val’s lap, where Val wrapped her up tight to lay her head in her daughter’s springy hair, struggling to find the peace she’d once let herself believe was finally hers.
“I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“That Daddy didn’t tell you?”
“Uh-huh.”
Josie picked at the little knotted bracelet encircling Val’s wrist, the one Tomas had given her when they’d first started going together, more than a dozen years ago now. It was grimy and
