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Faith smiled in anticipation of his visit. From the moment Fitz had been wheeled into the ER, blood everywhere, trying not to panic, she had been impressed by his stoicism and his sense of humor. Later, when she’d slipped upstairs to visit him during his recovery, she found him immensely easy to talk to, even when he couldn’t yet say a word. She had done most of the talking, while he scribbled witty and clever responses. Though she’d been happy for him when he was finally released, she also felt like she’d lost a new friend.
Perhaps, this time, she could hold onto him.
Unfurling the lace tablecloth, Faith draped it evenly across the length of the table. She began to set out the china and crystalware inherited from her parents and their parents before that. Even in the hardest of times, Faith marveled over God’s goodness. The proof of His unfailing love was that He had brought Casey Fitzpatrick into her life in the first place. Who but Fitz could have leveraged a rescue effort and brought her twin safely home?
The timer on Faith’s stove chirped suddenly, forcing her to abandon her table-setting and return to the kitchen to check on Grandma Tilly’s apple pie. Given the incredible fragrance wafting out as she cracked open the oven, the pie was nearly done. Perfect timing, too, because a glance at the clock told Faith she had better get dressed, or her guests would show up while she was still in maternity jeans.
No sooner did that possibility cross her mind than she heard a car approaching the house. “Oh, please, let this be Grace.”
She left the pie cooling on her stovetop and went to peek through the living room window, sighing with relief to see Grace slipping from her Honda in a red sundress. Her relief was short-lived as she took in her twin’s unsmiling expression. Faith crossed to the door and held it open.
“You’re early,” she chided. “I told you I didn’t need any help.”
“You were lying.” Grace swept an eye over her sister’s attire as she stepped inside. “Tell me what needs to get done, and then go get dressed. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
Faith was not surprised that her twin had picked up on her infatuation with Fitz. What surprised her was the lack of judgment in her voice. After all, Jerry hadn’t been dead a year, and she was already thinking of another man.
“Um…” Faith consulted the list in her head. “The food’s all ready. Could you finish setting the table in the dining room and turn on the fairy lights? That would be great.”
“I got it. Go.”
Hastening upstairs as fast as her extra weight allowed, Faith called her children’s names. “Olivia and Grayson, are you two almost ready?” She paused for breath as she reached the second floor. Pregnancy wasn’t as easy at thirty-three as it had been in her twenties.
“I need help with the sash,” her daughter answered from her bedroom.
“Aunt Grace can tie that for you. Grayson, how about you?”
“I’m ready.”
Her son’s flat tone stole yet another portion of Faith’s contentment. Grayson wasn’t the happy preteen he had been before his father’s death. He was sullen and lethargic and downright mean to his little sister.
I should get him into counseling. Faith crossed her bedroom and opened the little closet. The loss of storage space was the only drawback to moving back into her childhood home. She’d had a walk-in closet of her own in their old house. But the feeling that she might turn a corner and run into Jerry, even knowing he was dead, had kept her from accepting his death.
Living here helped them move beyond their loss. It was also way more house than she could manage by herself, just as starting a new business was too much. That was on her. She had needed change, but she’d bitten off more than she could chew, and now she was drowning in stress.
She lectured herself as she took a peach maternity dress from her closet. Fitz had saved Grace from certain peril, but he wasn’t going to save her, too. Leaving the dress hanging on the corner of the antique mirror of her vanity, she went into her bathroom to shower.
In spite of her self-directed admonition, butterflies flitted inside her at the prospect of Fitz’s arrival. She rinsed off quickly, then donned the dress. Why did Fitz’s company make her feel better, safer, and less alone? She was setting herself up for disappointment by thinking of him as someone who might keep her company. No man in his right mind would want any part of her hectic circumstances.
Regarding her reflection moments later, she decided the peach dress suited her coloring. It made her long hair look more auburn than brown. But, despite its empire waist, there was no concealing the rounded belly that stuck out in front of her, a forceful reminder of both her past and her future.
She rubbed the baby bump, pricked with guilt for her lack of anticipation over the birth of her third child. With the last two, she could hardly wait to meet her babies. This poor nugget was rarely even thought about. Yet if God had breathed life into her womb, then there surely had to be a reason.
Faith sat on the edge of her bed, belly hanging between her legs so she could slip on her sandals. Downstairs, immediately below her, she could hear Grace talking to Grayson, who’d been named after his aunt. The two had a close relationship, which was good. Maybe Grace could get her son to open up better than Faith could.
“Mommy, can you tie this?”
Olivia marched into her room in a very elegant periwinkle dress bought last Christmas. It was already almost too small for her.
“Sure, honey. Turn around.” Faith was tying off the sash when a vehicle purred outside. Her pulse quickened. “Our other guest is here.”
“I’ll get the door!” Olivia flew from the room and down the stairs.
By the time Faith started down the steps, Olivia was leading Fitz across the threshold.
“You look much better,” he said to Grace.
“Thanks.” Her flat tone made it clear she wasn’t feeling better.
