“Greg—”
“I came to tell Mom I’m turning things around. I got a real good job, Saylor. Real good.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said with truth.
Things hadn’t always been this strained between them. There were other memories too, good ones. Of trick or treating. Of Greg helping her with her paper route. Of hugging him after she’d found him crying in his bedroom when their dog had gotten poisoned. They’d been friends once; they could be again.
“Make sure you keep it up,” she said, punching his arm.
His smile was feeble as he pulled in front of Saylor’s house. “I will. I hope to.”
They idled a few minutes in silence, his little car rumbling beneath her boots. Greg leaned over to take in Saylor’s small, brick, boxy house with its old screen door and slanted roof.
“This is cute,” he said.
“It’s home.” Saylor wasn’t sure she’d call it cute, but she was grateful for this little house. “How long are you staying?”
“Until tomorrow,” Greg said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. His legs fidgeted too. She wondered how long it’d been since he had a fix. That couldn’t be an easy habit to break, and if he truly was trying, she was proud of him for it. “New year’s here. Guess I gotta get back to my job.”
The back door slammed shut. Parker had already made his way out on the snow-bordered sidewalk. He knocked on her window a few times, gesturing for Saylor to join him.
Saylor gave him a small wave before turning back to Greg.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, reaching for the handle.
Greg’s arm stopped her. She met her brother’s eyes.
“Happy New Year, Saylor,” he said.
New Year indeed. “You too.”
GRATITUDE SWELLED INSIDE of her as she watched Greg drive away and remembered his farewell greeting. Happy New Year. Merry Christmas. The irony of the season wasn’t lost on her. Christmas was the perfect time to find forgiveness. She remembered the argument she’d had with David over the Nativity book she’d asked him to read Parker on Christmas Eve.
It truly was what Christmas was all about. It was because of Christmas—because of the baby in a manger, and later, the sacrifice He gave—the anxiety and loathing for her brother, the burden she’d been carrying for so long, had transformed into peace.
At least where Greg was concerned. David, on the other hand...
She replayed the scene again in her mind. David thrusting the invitation into her hand. Making his demands. Ordering her around like a member of his staff or an annoying waitress.
He treated her as though she was at his disposal. As though she were inferior to him somehow.
She’d never regret Parker. But it was still unfortunate she was obligated to see David because of the court ruling.
After enjoying a longer-than-she-should-have-taken shower and a dinner of chicken nuggets and canned green beans with some milk, Saylor helped Parker get ready for bed. She enjoyed his prattle about superheroes and his progress learning to tie his shoes.
“I do the bunny ears, just like you told me.”
When it was time, she knelt with him beside his bed for their prayers like always, and basked in his little-armed, big-hearted hug.
Keeping his hands on her shoulders, Parker grinned at her, showcasing the gap in his teeth. A gap now sporting the tiniest nub of white.
“Would you look at that?” Saylor said. “It’s already starting to grow back.”
Parker wriggled along the space with his tongue, then hopped into bed and flopped around to settle into his Spider-Man sheets. “They do that, you know,” he said. “Teeth aren’t gone forever.”
It was so simple. To him, they were talking about lost teeth. In that moment, however, in light of everything that had happened, he spoke with wisdom beyond his years.
“Not all loss is final,” Saylor said with dawning realization. Even when things seemed completely lost and done, there was always something to be learned. Change could be hard. Painful even. But necessary. She never would have met Cole if that wasn’t the case.
“Not final,” Parker said, raising his tiny arms for another hug.
Saylor squeezed him again, bending to give him another kiss. “Night, bud.”
Leaving him in the glow of his nightlight, she tightened her sweater around her and headed for the couch. She couldn’t help taking in the sight of the mistletoe above the entryway between the kitchen and the living room while all kinds of amazing memories filled the air like cotton candy with it.
She hadn’t been sure what to do about David’s wedding. She had no desire to attend. She had no desire to see him again, period.
But Cole. Understanding, sweet, loving Cole, who had listened to her plight but had made things woefully clear he wanted nothing more to do with her. Could she blame him? Would she give him another chance if things were reversed?
Yes. Cole was amazing. She would want to give him the benefit of the doubt. If only he would do the same for her.
Chapter Twenty-two
Cole shifted into park and let his pickup idle. So this was where Brooke had ended up. She hadn’t been easy to find. Cole assumed she’d been living in the apartment they’d once shared, but after calling her best friend and worming the truth out of her, Kelly had finally given in and told Cole where he could find her.
It wasn’t the nicest part of town. Though the city of Twin Falls had done quite a lot to update many of the buildings in the old sector, the homes here definitely showed signs of neglect.
This home was particularly careworn. Its paint was peeling along the soffit and fascia. Someone along the way had tried adding stucco to the exterior, but weather had beaten against it, and it was peeling around the windows, revealing mustard-colored brick beneath. The chain-linked fence hugged a small yard where the snow hadn’t quite managed to cover all the dead weeds.
A worm of guilt burrowed its way beneath his tongue. Brooke
