Grace Restored Read online

  “Yes, I was just waiting for you before I ordered.”

  “Great. What do you want? My treat.”

  Michelle quickly shook her head. No way did she want Chloe paying for her meal. Especially if the girl had a meltdown to the news. “I’ve got it. I invited you.”

  “Okay.” Chloe shrugged. “I’ll have the spinach and tomato panini.”

  Spinach? Michelle’s face contorted. “What kind of tea?”

  “Green tea, please.”

  Only one person waited in the line ahead of her. Her stomach began to rumble as the patron finished placing their order. Moving forward in line, Michelle sighed. Food’s coming. Hopefully, her stomach could wait.

  She watched LeeAnn give the kitchen worker the order slip from the previous person. The woman always had a smile on her face, no matter what time of day or the size of the crowd. With her gray hair in a nice chignon, LeeAnn reminded her of Mrs. Claus. Plus, the red apron she rocked had her wishing Christmas were near.

  “What can I get you today?”

  “Hey Miss LeeAnn, I would like a chicken Caesar salad and the spinach and tomato panini.”

  “Sure thing, Michelle. Do you need a refill on the coffee?”

  “No thanks, but can I get a green tea. Chloe’s request, not mine.” She didn’t drink anything hot unless it came from a coffee or cocoa bean.

  “Not a problem.”

  LeeAnn rung up the order and Michelle handed her card over. Once her order was ready, she grabbed the food tray and headed back to the table. As she walked toward Chloe, nerves threatened to displace her hunger. Should she bring up the search results now or after they ate?

  Chloe grabbed her plate of food. “I’m famished. Thanks for treating.”

  “Sure.”

  Chloe held out her hands.

  Michelle looked around. “You pray in public?”

  “Of course.”

  She stared at Chloe’s hands. With a huff of annoyance, Michelle surrendered, bowing her head.

  “Lord, thank You for the food and the blessing Michelle provided in treating. Amen.”

  “Amen,” she murmured. Now she felt awful. How could she bring up Davenport after hearing her friend’s cheer?

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. She looked up and caught Chloe staring at her. “What?” she asked, once she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “When are you going to tell me what you found out?”

  “After we eat?” Her voice rose in octave with each word.

  Chloe put her sandwich down and wiped her hands. “Out with it. You’re obviously anxious about it. You’re picking at your food like it’s a plate of rotten cabbage.” Chloe’s shoulders lowered with an audible exhale. “Just tell me.”

  Help me, Lord!

  She stared at Chloe, wondering if the latest information would hurt her friend. Michelle really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. On an inhale, she let the words fly. “I have a potential name for your father. One of your mother’s classmates provided some information, but of course you won’t know if it’s true unless he collaborates the story or takes a DNA test.”

  Chloe glanced down, her napkin clutched in her hand. Michelle’s heart dropped. Was she upset? Nervous? She wasn’t used to Chloe not being the stable one.

  Chloe began ripping her napkin into pieces. After a tiny mound had formed, Chloe lifted her gaze. “What’s his name?”

  The bleak whisper tore a hole in Michelle’s heart. “John Davenport.”

  “Who?” Her friend blinked owlishly.

  “John Davenport. His parents are the Davenports on Prosperity Ridge.”

  Chloe’s face paled. Her mole above her lip darkened in stark contrast.

  “Are you sure? I mean as sure as you can be?”

  Michelle nodded, hating the look of hurt that flashed across her friend’s face. Was Chloe thinking of the times she could have run into her grandparents? “A classmate of your mother’s said Davenport and your mother dated. They were best friends.” Michelle blinked. “The classmate and your mother. Not your father. I...” She waved a hand as if flicking a fly. “You get what I mean, right? From what it sounds like, there was no need for the friend to lie about this.”

  “Who was her best friend?”

  “Karen Adams. She’s Guy’s secretary’s mother.” What a mouthful. All the more to add to the awkwardness of the situation.

  “Do you know where he is? I didn’t realize the Davenports had a son.”

  “He left once he graduated. Apparently, he was a year ahead of your mom. Now he resides in Columbus, Ohio.”

  “Is he married?”

  “He is.” She gripped her hands together knowing the next question.

  “Does he have...” Chloe covered her mouth, her voice cracking against tears. “Does he have any kids?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her heart pounded at the visible distress on Chloe’s face.

  “How many?” Chloe wiped away a tear.

  “Three.”

  “I have to go.” Chloe slid back, her chair screeching its way across the tile floor. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Chloe, wait...” She stood but Chloe waved a hand as she darted out of the bakery doors.

  A few customers looked back and forth with speculation in their eyes. Michelle sat back down, looking at her half-eaten lunch. I should have waited until after lunch.

  GUY SAT ON THE BENCH looking out at the lake. Lately, it seemed all he did was go to work, Nana Baker’s house to pick up his girls, and then home. He had left work ten minutes early for the sole purpose of sitting in front of the lake to clear his head.

  And boy did it need clearing.

  But the look of confusion on Michelle’s face wouldn’t erase from his mind. Why had he asked her to hang out at the park? Was he stupid? A glutton for punishment?

  What was worst...the fact he hadn’t thought of Charlene during the invitation. Guy wiped a hand down his face. With a sigh, he removed a picture of Charlene from his wallet. Was that really how she’d looked? Slowly but surely, his brain struggled to recall her exact features. The wallet-size portrait had become his memory as time had slowly erased the mental images he could conjure.

  The picture had become worn, marking the numerous times he’d looked at. He held it in his hand and stared at the love knot in the other. How had life gotten so complicated?

  Once upon a time, he had lived to see Michelle’s face light up when he whispered “Chelle belle” in her ear. Then he had met Charlene years later and knew what real love looked like. Now he was seeing Michelle again. In person. Alive. She was something Charlene would never be again. Here. In the present and it was eating him alive.

  Not knowing what to do with all his emotions, Guy stuffed the picture back in his wallet and slipped the ring into his front pocket. Resting his arms against the bench, he leaned back and stared out at the lake. It was time to clear his mind of all thought and rest.

  Guy’s alarm went off shortly after, reminding him it was time to pick up the twins. He headed to Nana Baker’s house, but his mind had failed to become blank. Instead he was plagued with life questions. How had his life become so routine? He needed it to be, especially for the girls, yet he craved more. He thought about the night out with the guys.

  They had reminded him what it was to just be. Not to have to be a hero and slay the closet monsters or those creepy beings who Bekah insisted lived under her bed. He didn’t have to be the tough law enforcer for the young deputies, or even the stoic boss for Holly.

  When he hung out with Evan and Darryl, he was just G. Personality wise, he fell right in the middle of his boys. He wasn’t a goofball like Darryl, although he could tell a good joke. He wasn’t the charismatic good boy like Evan, but he didn’t have to be. They let him be just Guy. Not even, Guy, like his mother pronounced it. They had no expectations but for him to be their friend. Be himself.

  He needed that.

  He was tired of filling and meeting the
demands of those around him. What would Michelle demand of him? Come on! He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Why can’t I get that woman out my mind?”

  His breathe came out in huffs finally subsiding to normal as he picked up his girls from Nana Baker’s home. Still, his mind was aware of how Michelle always seemed to linger in his thoughts. Never mind that he had to act normal around his kids. No, Michelle would wait until he had the time to focus on her. It’s maddening.

  As he entered his house, Guy hung up the girls’ light coats as they continued chattering.

  “And Nana let us bake cookies. We both helped, Papa, and then we got to lick the spoons.” Rachel stopped and looked at him with a mischievous smile.

  He could only imagine what the sugar would do to them. He was glad their stomachs were no longer upset, but he didn’t know how he would handle the excess energy that was probably ready to implode at the first sign of silence. “What kind of cookies did you make, Peanut?”

  “Chocoa’ chip cookies, Papa. With nuts!” She clasped her hands together and he wanted to laugh. She looked like a prim schoolmarm.

  “I ate the nuts, Papa,” Bekah said, smiling shyly.

  “Good job, Jellybean.”

  Her smile widened, and he felt his heart warm. There was no doubt he could use a vacation, but their sweet smiles made it all worth it. What would he do without them? He snorted in derision. Probably fall apart. He walked to the kitchen. “What do you girls want for dinner?”

  “P-ghetti!” Bekah cried, clapping her hands in delight.

  “Not again.” Rachel looked at her twin and frowned.

  The annoyed look on Rachel’s face erased his earlier foul mood. Holding back laughter, Guy turned to Rachel. “What do you want for dinner, Peanut?”

  “Cheese sticks! Miz Chelle made them for us. They were yummy.”

  Michelle cooked?

  He paused, the fridge door held open. Of course, she did. He hadn’t expected the girls to go hungry, but he figured she’d stop at McDonald’s or something. But cheese sticks?

  “You ate cheese sticks for dinner?”

  Rachel propped her hands on her hips. “Silly, Papa. It was for our snack. We got to dip the cheese in crumbs and bake them.”

  “Vewy yummy, Papa,” Bekah said.

  She made cheese sticks from scratch?

  Guy didn’t know which surprised him more—that the girls had fun at her house, or that Michelle cooked food from scratch. He’d assumed she lived strictly on takeout.

  “Can Miz Chelle come ove’ fo’ din...dinnuh, Papa?” Bekah clasped her hands in supplication. Her big black eyes reminded him of a puppy dogs’.

  “Uh...”

  “Yes, Papa, you have to invite her over.” Rachel looked at him expectantly. “Call her.”

  Did he have a choice?

  Sure he did. He was the adult. Just say no. Yet something inside him tugged at him to extend the invitation. Guy picked up his cell and dialed Michelle’s number, hoping she wouldn’t answer. For a brief moment, he thought about praying for it, but the thought made his collar suddenly seem too close to his skin.

  “Hello?”

  She answered. He closed his eyes in defeat. “It’s Guy.”

  “Oh. Is something wrong? Did you find out anything else about Mr. Davenport?”

  “No, actually I was calling because the girls wanted to know if you could come over for dinner.” His insides clenched, part of him hoping she would say no and the other dreading she would say yes.

  “Oh.”

  The shock in her voice made him want to cringe. The girls stared at him, hope making their eyes shine bright. Guy turned away so he wouldn’t see their disappointment when she said no.

  “Tell them, thank you for the invitation. I would love to come over.”

  His mouth dropped. “What?”

  “I’d like to come over for dinner. What time should I be there?”

  “Uh...uh...”

  Her chuckle came across the line and sent goose bumps up his arm. “Did you expect me to say no?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what you get for assuming,” she said in a singsong voice. “I’ll be over at six. I’m assuming you don’t eat late.”

  “No, we don’t. Six is fine.”

  “Yay!” the girls chorused.

  Guy whirled around in time to see his girls hug each other.

  Help!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Michelle stared at Guy’s front door. Her fingers wiggled instead of forming into a fist to knock on his door. Her feet seemed to have been glued to the front porch. What had made her agree to dinner? Dinner with Guy? Dinner with Guy and his girls?

  I. Am. Insane.

  She bit her lip while staring at the door knocker. It wanted to be touched, it begged to be used; however, her hand clutched the bottle of sparkling cider like it was a life raft. Michelle didn’t want to drown, but she feared if she walked into his house her life would never be the same.

  For better or worse was the only question remaining.

  God, um, help?! I don’t know what I was thinking, saying yes to his invitation. I know he didn’t want me to come and maybe that’s why I said yes. Only now, I’m stuck. I’m petrified I’ve done something that will set in motion events I will later wish I can undo. What is wrong with me lately?

  She set her shoulders and straightened her back. But I’m here, and I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. All I ask is that I leave here with my heart intact.

  “Amen,” she murmured. Michelle stretched out her hand and knocked on the blue door.

  In a matter of seconds, two twin faces peeked from the curtained windows framing the sides of the door. She smiled at the girls and chuckled softly to herself when they squealed in delight.

  “Papa, Miz Chelle is here!”

  The door opened. Guy stared at her, a hesitant smile on his face. Was he nervous? Excited even?

  “Come on in. As you can tell the girls are pretty excited.”

  The threshold loomed before her. She gulped and then crossed it, passing Guy with as much space between them as possible. Still the hint of his spiced-tinted cologne managed to invade her senses. Her body swayed as it danced around her. Is that the same cologne from high school?

  How was that possible? She changed scents regularly depending on the season. Right now, her Dior perfume was perfect for Spring. The orange scent kept her feeling peppy without being overbearing. She faced him, praying her face held a perfect picture of calm and confidence. It would be her best act yet. She forced her cheeks to go higher, widening her smile.

  “Thanks for inviting me.” She held the bottle out. “I thought the girls would enjoy the bubbly.”

  Guy took the bottle and read the label.

  She exhaled as a real smile lit his face. His teeth shined and the shadows were momentarily chased away. Deep breath. His smile isn’t that captivating.

  “They’ll love it. We drink it on birthdays and holidays.”

  The relief she felt at his calm acceptance rolled over her. How silly to be so nervous over a bottle of sparkling cider. She felt a tug on her leg and looked down into Bekah’s sweet face.

  “Miz Chelle, come see my woom?”

  “Sure, sweet pea. I’d love too.”

  Bekah grabbed her hand, leading the way up the stairs. Rachel followed, animatedly talking the whole way.

  “We share a room Miz Chelle.” Rachel proudly boasted.

  “Awesome. I can’t wait to see it.”

  Bekah tugged her down the short hallway to the last bedroom on the right. The home showed its age, but it also showed comfort. The girls were lucky to grow up in such a home. Rachel opened their door and gestured inside.

  “Ta da,” she exclaimed in delight.

  Her eyes widened as she stared at the room. It looked like a F-5 tornado had ran through the room and now stuffed animals and toys had become collateral damage. If that wasn’t bad enough, the room lacked
color. The walls were white, the bed frames white, curtains white. Who would put white in a kids’ room? It showed every mark that didn’t belong, emphasizing the starkness and mess that crowded the room.

  This is not going to work.

  She kneeled on the floor. “Hey girls, let’s play a game.”

  “What kinna game?” Bekah asked.

  “We’re going to see who can put all their toys up the fastest.”

  Rachel frowned. “What do we win?”

  She tapped a finger to her chin. What would be the best incentive? Oh, yes. “I have some lip gloss in my purse. The winner gets to put some on.”

  Bekah frowned. “But wha’ if I try really hard?” The ‘w’ sound instead of the ‘r’s was endearing.

  A consolation price was definitely in order. “Then you get a penny.”

  The little girl threw a fist in the air. “’Kay.”

  Michelle pointed to her watch. “I’m going to time you. Are you girls ready?”

  “Yes!” They chorused.

  “Go!”

  They began grabbing toys and headed for their separate toy chests. There was one at the foot of each toddler-sized bed. A white chest at that. Guy needed his head examine.

  She held back the laughter welling up as she took in their expressions. Bekah had a look of intense concentration on her face, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. She placed each toy carefully into the chest.

  However, Rachel’s method was quite different. The oldest twin piled a load of toys into her hands. Her face held a similar expression to Bekah’s only her tongue was nowhere to be seen and her nose scrunched with her efforts. She dumped a load into the chest and began grabbing more toys in the same fashion.

  An echo of footsteps came from behind. She turned just as Guy graced the doorway. He looked at the girls then back at her.

  “How did you get them to clean their room?” His voice was quiet as if he didn’t want to disturb their hard work.

  Or was it an echo of disbelief?

  “They get prizes. Winner gets to try my lip gloss and loser gets a penny.”

  His mouth dropped open. “That’s it? A penny and lip gloss?”