Finding Home #SYTYCW15 #SpecialEdition

Finding Home Part 5

Chapter Four

Andie stood at the edge of her lawn, pushing her fists into the ache of her back, the weight on her heart lifting slightly as she surveyed her work. The red, white and blue tablecloths were the perfect backdrop for the cheerful vases of white daisies and brown sunflowers. Pebbles, worn smooth by the rough roll and tumble of the wind-blown lake, were scattered down the center of the tables, interspersed here and there with red and white crystal cups that held vanilla scented tea lights. Those wouldn't be lit until the sun rode low in the sky and the light dimmed, making the sparklers the children would swirl through the air seem all the more dazzling.

It would be the perfect Labor Day. Andie turned, ready to go in and take a quick shower, then froze. Conner stood not ten feet behind her, his face shadowed with stubble, his eyes dark with apologies.

He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked past her, into the yard. "It looks nice, exactly how I remember it."

Andie recalled Conner at the Labor Day parties, as a boy seated next to his parents at one of the tables. He didn't run and race like the other kids, but sat quietly, never interrupting or making unnecessary noise. But every now and then, his mom would bend her head down next to his and whisper something. Then, the quiet little boy would light up, practically radiate joy.

"Conner-" Andie began, but he held out his hand to stop her.

"I owe you an apology. No, I do," he said when Andie started to shake her head. "I said some things yesterday that I shouldn't have said in front of you, considering your past. It was wrong of me."

Andie stepped forward and caught one of his hands in both of hers. "No, Conner, don't you see? It's wrong that you would want to throw it away at all, not that you talked about it in front of me. He's your father. You're not close, I get that, but maybe, with time, okay, lots and lots of time, you could be."

Conner looked away, into the dark shadows of the trees, and shook his head. "I don't know, Andie. I... I don't think Dad is like everybody else. I don't think he can feel. When I was little, I used to think he was like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, that he didn't have a heart."

Andie bent her arms, bringing his hand to her cheek for the briefest of seconds, offering Conner, the man, and Conner, the hurt little boy, what comfort she could. "I know, but he does have a heart. I know, somehow, that he cares for you."

Conner looked down at her, his eyes dark and shadowed. "Andie. If only you could share yours. You have a heart big enough to split with my dad and a hundred other people, and still have enough left over." He let his free hand drift up to cover her cheek. His palm was warm and rough, and underneath his touch, her skin seemed to buzz, like from an electric current.

"You have a beautiful soul, Andie. I wish I could be more like you." He let his hand drop and took several steps back.

Andie realized she still held his other hand and let his fingers slip away from hers. "Well, I better go hop in the shower. You're welcome to come in and relax for awhile. I'm sure Shawn and Logan are up by now. They're probably in the living room having cereal and watching cartoons." She laughed, a naked burble of nerves.

Some of the bleakness left Conner's eyes at the mention of cartoons. "You guys used to have the best Saturday morning cereals. Lucky Charms, Cocoa Pebbles, Fruit Loops; you had them all."

Andie gestured for him to follow her up to the house. "What do you mean, 'had'?"

Conner eyed her. "Don't tell me you still buy cereal like that? With all the chemicals and dyes and preservatives?"

Andie slanted him a glance. "What do you think? I'm raising a nine-year-old boy." She jogged up the steps to the deck and pulled the sliding glass door open for him. He all but ran into the house.