Lisa looked down and thought.
We’re just too different, but as long as Sully’s willing to try, so am I.
Chapter Two
“I want my mommy and daddy,” Rose said, tears swimming in her eyes. “I don’t want them to be in heaven. I want them right here.”
The pure-white cat, Snowball, who was curled up beside Rose, stared at the little girl’s face. Molly, a small, black, short-haired mutt, looked at her from the floor.
Lisa smiled. She’d never had pets growing up, but Snowball and Molly must have sensed Rose’s duress. They hadn’t left the little girl’s side for very long since her parents had died.
Lisa sat on the sofa, on the other side of Rose, her arms around the girl’s slight shoulders. Grandparents Sullivan and Phillips had all left for the airport this morning, and the house was blissfully silent.
Lisa had been reading Rose a book, and things were going well until Rose closed the book, her bottom lip quivering. “I don’t want them to be in heaven.”
“Your mommy and daddy are thinking of you all the time, just like you think of them,” Lisa said, hugging her niece closer to her.
She wished she could think of something more soothing to say to Rose, but she missed her sister so very much. She couldn’t even think about never talking to her again, never hearing her laugh. She wished her faith was strong enough for her to believe that someday they’d see each other again—somehow.
“They’re watching you from heaven, sweetie, and they love you very much. Just like I love you and Uncle Sully loves you. And don’t forget all your grandparents. They love you, too.”
She wiped Rose’s tears with a tissue and had her blow her nose. Molly rested her chin on Rose’s leg, and Rose reached down to pet the dog, then opened the book and started turning the pages, pointing to objects in the pictures and identifying them.
Lisa let her mind wander. It was hard to believe that a week had gone by since she and Sully had moved into Carol and Rick’s house. She hoped that someday the big Victorian would feel like her own home—well, hers and Sully’s and Rose’s.
Because she hadn’t gone back to Atlanta yet to get all her clothes, she’d been doing countless loads of laundry from what she’d brought in her suitcase. It had crossed her mind that she could borrow a couple of Carol’s tees and maybe a pair of shorts until she could go shopping, but she just couldn’t do it, couldn’t go into the master bedroom.
So she’d closed the door.
Sully had moved some of his clothes into a bedroom opposite hers on the first floor, but Lisa knew that he often sneaked out at night and wandered—out to his motor home, out on the front porch or the back porch, back in again. It was impossible not to hear him open the creaky doors and his boots clunk on the wooden floor as she lay awake nights, not able to sleep.
“Why don’t you read to me, Rose? You know the story.”
Rose wiped her nose on her sleeve and moved the book to her lap. Lisa smiled as her niece made up a story of a bunny going to the market and buying vegetables for a party he was having with his other woodland friends.
But Lisa barely heard Rose, thinking instead of how she should have gone to the grocery store or sent Sully and Rose with a list.
Sully didn’t mind doing errands. Matter of fact, he and Rose had a routine that he called their “walk around.” They’d drive to the village of Salmon Falls, park the van and have breakfast at Salmon Falls Diner. Rose would have cereal with a banana or, if she felt adventurous, she’d have a pancake.
Then it’d be off to the drugstore, the post office, the grocery store—wherever she’d sent them on errands—and they’d stop at the playground on the Village Square, where Rose would play. Sully called it her “swing and sing” time because she would make up songs and sing them as she swung.
She wondered who looked forward to their walk arounds more, Sully or Rose.
The walk arounds had started when the grandparents had become overwhelming, which was their second day here. Sully had pulled Lisa aside and told her that Rose needed a break from their constant hovering and trying to outdo one another. He said that he’d take Rose out to run errands for her.
That was considerate of him, but Lisa had wanted to come, too. They weren’t the only ones who needed a break from the grandparents.
She was always the responsible one; Sully was the fun guy. But as they raised Rose, she didn’t want to be cast into the role of disciplinarian while Sully was the one she had a good time with.
Based on the previous week, Rick and Carol were right in not picking a set of grandparents as guardians for Rose. She and Sully might not be the best prize behind curtain number one, but they couldn’t be any worse than the Sullivans or the Phillipses.
She could hear the drone of the bright-green lawn mower as it made its rounds in the front yard. After enough hints from her, Sully had finally stopped roping the darn statue and got the ride-on mower out of the shed.
After tinkering for hours and taking numerous coffee breaks, he’d finally got it working.
As she and Rose heard the mower approach, they both turned around on the sofa to look out the big picture window at Sully. Lisa kneeled next to Rose, who stood, and they waved to him.
In response, Sully raised an arm into the air. They heard him yell “Yee-haw” as he went by. On his next pass, he did the same thing. On the way back, he took off his cowboy hat and was fanning the engine.
He stopped the lawn mower, making like he was getting off a bull. Then he bowed to his audience.
He got back on, pushed the lever and clearly expected the mower to go forward, but it went in reverse.
The surprise on his face was priceless.
She and Rose laughed at him, and he feigned anger. They laughed even harder.
They’d both needed it.
Sully was good for Rose.
Maybe he was good for her, too.
Rose was occupied watching Sully, so Lisa went into the laundry room to put in yet another load of her clothes and Rose’s. Sully did his own laundry.
So far, they were doing okay, but the real test would come now—when it was just the three of them.
After loading the washer, she went into Rick’s office and turned to a website that she’d flagged—a basic website for young cooks. What the mothers had had her cooking was way too complicated. Probably that’s what they were counting on to use as ammunition for Mr. Randolph.
She’d have to look for something really easy and nutritious for Rose to eat. And Sully. She supposed that he’d eat with them, too. Like a family.
And she hoped that whatever she’d make would be eatable and that she wouldn’t make them sick.
She could boil water and make pasta with a jar of sauce and pre-made meatballs from the store and she could microwave anything and everything, but they couldn’t live on pasta alone.
Even though she could fly jumbo jets, she didn’t have a clue how to cook a real meal.
Sully washed his greasy and grass-stained hands at the laundry room sink. The air in the house smelled like something was … burning.
He ran into the kitchen just as the smoke alarm went off. Rose started to cry. The dog started to bark, then whine, and the cat scooted under the living room sofa. Lisa stood in front of the stove, fanning the billowing smoke with a dish towel.
Grabbing two pot holders, he hipped