Lance turned to his backside on his bed andstared at the ceiling. Then his cell rang on his nightstand and hegroaned as he turned to see who was calling. It was his bestfriend, Grant Woods.
“You sound groggy,” Grant said. “You just gotback into town?”
Lance sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah and Iwas trying to get some sleep.”
“This early? How about joining us for dinnertonight?”
Lance sat up in bed and rested his backagainst the headboard. He missed the dinner at the Woods’ house.They were rare at first when Chantelle moved away, not to mentionthe tension their breakup brought between him and Grant. He didn’tblame his friend for wanting to protect his sister, but he was gladthey got past it and reconciled their friendship. Lance thenresumed attending a few meals with his second family.
“Are you there?” Grant asked.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll come. What’s fordinner?”
“Not sure, but you know my mom. It’ll begood.”
“You have a wife that cooks. Remember?” Hejoked.
Grant continued. “I have a wife that’stalking about going on a diet together. I love her, but I have todraw the line somewhere. There’s nothing wrong with a chicken-friedsteak now and then. I even go to the gym four times a week.”
Lance chuckled. “Then you need moral supporttonight. We’ll eat the fried food and then work it off at the gymlater.”
“See you then.”
A home-cooked meal at the Woods’ home.Perhaps that was what he needed. He’d been going non-stop withwork, and now with wedding plans underway, he needed a break. Mrs.Woods’, now Mrs. Evans’ lasagna, pot roast, meatloaf, or even hergarlic mashed potatoes always made his mouth water.
There were many times he’d sat next to...Chantelle. The girl who’d won his heart in high school. The girlvoted “Most Beautiful” in school. She’d hated the title since shewanted to been seen as more. A writer. That was her dream.
Did she make it? He hoped so. He recalledreading the articles Chantelle would have him read when they wereyounger. She’d been so nervous to publish her work in their schoolpaper, but he assured her she was a talented writer.
Lance cleared his throat. He needed to getready. Perhaps he could ask her mother how she was doing at dinnertonight. Last thing he heard was Chantelle was living in Chicagoand had a boyfriend. She had moved on. So had he.
Chapter 4
“Get in this house!” Chantelle’s mothermotioned her over.
She hurried to her mother’s arms for one ofthe best hugs in the world. Chantelle didn’t rush it.
“I’ve missed you,” her mother said.
“I missed you.”
“You weren’t supposed to come untiltomorrow.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Her mother hugged her again. “It doesn’tmatter as long as you’re home. It’s been too long.”
“You saw me at Christmas.” Chantelle broketheir embrace.
“I still say that’s too long.” She pushed herdaughter’s hair back behind her shoulders. “You cut your hair?”
Chantelle flipped her hair to one side. Itwas still below her shoulders, but her dark brown hair didn’t coverher back as it used to. “You don’t like it?” She batted hereyelashes.
Her mother laughed. “You little jokester.I’ll… just have to get used to it. Come inside.” Her mother tookher hand and directed her into the living room. “You must behungry.”
Dropping her purse on the couch, she followedher mother to the kitchen. She heard the whir of the range hood fanover the stove, along with the radio playing in the background. Itwas rare for her mother not to listen to music when cooking. Thegenres ranged from Motown to country songs.
Sitting on the barstool at the counter,Chantelle rested her chin inside her palm. She eyed the ceramiccookie jar for a moment but denied the urge to sneak one beforedinner. Her stomach growled, wanting to taste her mother’sspaghetti.
“I baked fresh cookies about an hour ago,”her mother said.
“I don’t want a cookie… at least notnow.”
Her mother giggled. “How are you,sweetie?”
“Mom, we talked a few days ago.”
Her mother reached for her hands over thekitchen island. “It’s different now that you’re home.” For amoment, her mother’s gaze lowered. “Did you visit him yet?”
Chantelle swallowed. “No, I came straighthere. I’ll visit before I leave. I promise.”
Three years. That’s how long it had beensince her father had passed. A heart attack claimed his life atfifty-eight, and her heart broke when her mother called with thenews. She returned home the next day. Chantelle had hugged hermother tight that mournful day and held her hand during the entirememorial service.
“Knock knock,” a baritone voice said.
Chantelle pushed the hurtful memories away tosee her fraternal twin brother. By two minutes and five seconds, hewas the oldest. Grant walked into the kitchen’s doorway. His eyeswidened for a moment, but then he opened his arms long enough forher to jump into his embrace.
He kissed her cheek before setting her downto her feet. “Are you eating?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Her motheradded.
“You’re early?” Grant’s jaw tensed.
“Yes.” Chantelle smoothed down her clothes.Was he not happy to see her? She parted her lips to say more, butthen Grant’s wife trailed in behind him.
“Chantelle!” Elise shrieked.
Squealing along with her sister-in-law,Chantelle hugged her back.
“I love your hair!” Elise said, grinning fromear to ear. Her coal eyes sparkled.
“Not as much as I love your dress.” Chantellereplied with her hands on her hips. “You look incredible.”
Elise posed for a second in her floralsundress before laughing aloud.
“Listen, sis.” Grant interrupted. “I needto—”
“It sounds like you guys are having a goodtime in here,” a familiar voice said.
Chantelle froze as the tenor voice washedover her. Their appointment was tomorrow. Why was he here now? Themoment her eyes connected with his, he froze. Chantelle could havesworn the hairs on the back of her neck lifted.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, shesaid. “Hi… Lance.”
“Chantelle?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re…back.”
***
Lance had to be dreaming. Chantelle. Yet ashe stared at her heart-shaped face and cocoa brown eyes, his kneesweakened. He cleared his throat, denying the notion. He hadn’t seenher
