Downstairs, I heard the kitchen door open—then slam shut with purpose.

“Hey, Tish! I’m home!” Samantha called.

Clearly she was still upset over my earlier bad manners. My delayed apology was about to cost the Belmont family a peaceful nap. I dropped my supplies and raced downstairs to warn Sam of the sleeping crew.

Too late. Andrew gave out a bellow that shook the walls. When I got to the bottom of the steps, Samantha stood at the living room arch, staring at the young family.

“Hi.” Surprise colored her voice. “Are you Melissa?”

Missy nodded as she comforted the baby.

Sam glanced at me, a touch of confusion on her face. Then she turned back to Missy. “Nice to meet you. I’m Samantha Walters. Sorry I woke up the gang.”

Melissa yawned and ran fingers through disheveled blonde hair. “It was time anyway.”

I gave a sheepish look in Sam’s direction. She returned a smile of forgiveness along with a mystified shake of her head.

Formal apology out of the way, I launched into explanation. “Sam, I heisted Missy and the kids from the grocery store in Manistique. I don’t know how long before someone comes looking for them. The crawl space is hard to spot through the bushes at the end of the house, if they need to hide. Now that you’re here, I’m going back to town for supplies.”

I made the drive back to Manistique. Once on the highway, I called my grandfather and told him the news.

“Patricia. That was not just stupid, that was extremely stupid. Your impulse might end in disaster.”

I was quiet as I processed his criticism. I’d been sure he’d support my actions. Wasn’t I holding up a torch for the cause too? Trees flew past in a blur. Maybe I’d just been trying to please Samantha with my spontaneous move. Guilt can make you do crazy things. I should have gathered more information before jumping into the flames. “I’m sorry, Puppa. There they were in the supermarket and Sam had just told me her idea for sneaking them to the lodge . . . I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing at the time.”

A heavy sigh. “I’ll send Joel down to babysit until we figure out where to go from here.”

“Thanks, Puppa.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “It’ll be alright, won’t it?”

Prolonged silence. “It’ll be alright.”

I disconnected, then proceeded to give myself a mental beating for my reckless choices. About three-quarters of the way to town, I passed a vehicle that looked like Missy’s minivan. A balding, round-faced man with a goatee sat behind the wheel. I exhaled in relief. He was no Stick. Besides, what were the chances? It would have taken a good dose of intelligence to talk to the checkout girl, interrogate the Coke delivery man, peek around town, and be headed to the cottage already.

I parallel parked in front of the Goodwill store. The clerk helped me speed-shop for my items. Within a half hour, I was headed back to the lodge with a portable crib, a double futon with no frame, blankets, and three bags of clothes stuffed in the back of the SUV. I felt like a Welcome Wagon gone bonkers.

Joel’s car was parked in the driveway when I pulled up. I cut the engine. Joel came outside, Samantha close on his heels. Without a word, he opened the hatch and started hauling. Sam took one end of the futon as he hoisted it out.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Thanks for helping.” I grabbed the paper bags and brought them in on the wake of the mattress. “I’m not so sure about this whole thing. How about you?”

Their answering silence underlined the gravity of my spur-of-the-moment decision. “Okay, so maybe I screwed up. You don’t have to shun me for it.”

We dumped the goodies in the upstairs bedroom. I’d expected to see Melissa and the kids, but they were nowhere in sight.

“Boy, am I nervous.” I unpacked the clothes and stacked them by size. “On my way to town, I thought I saw that Stick guy headed this way.” I laughed and shrugged. “But what are the chances of that?”

Sam smoothed sheets over the bed on the floor. Joel stalked out for another load.

Her eyes followed him.

“He came while you were gone.” Her voice was soft, with a touch of fear in it.

“Yeah, I know. I called Puppa and he said he’d have Joel come down to baby-sit.”

“Not Joel. That Stick guy. He came fifteen minutes after you left.”

My fingers straightened in a panic. “Where’s Melissa? Is she okay?”

Sam nodded. She crumpled to the edge of the mattress. “They’re in the crawl space. Joel pulled up just before Stick arrived. Joel kept him occupied while I snuck Missy and the kids into the crawl.” She leaned her head on her knees. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this, Tish. I’m scared.”

My instincts wanted to scream at her that the whole scheme was her idea to begin with. Instead, I reached an arm across her back. “We’re strong. We’ll get through this. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing either of us has ever done, but we have good intentions. Hopefully, God will honor that.”

Samantha blinked her eyes closed. “‘The Lord protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, he saved me.’” She whispered the words like a well-worn prayer. At my look, she elaborated. “It’s from the book of Psalms. Got me through my divorce.”

“Well, there you have it.” I stood up. “Now, come on. Let’s cook dinner and have a good meal. That’ll make everyone feel better.”

Having an audience certainly brought out the actress in me. Inside, I was scared to death.

26

Joel and Samantha took over in the kitchen while I retrieved Missy and the kids from the crawl space.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I said, offering my hand.

Melissa grabbed on and climbed out with the baby. Hannah came next, her little fingers clenching mine. As I hoisted her into daylight, I noticed she couldn’t have weighed more than forty pounds.

“You’re a lifesaver, Tish,” Missy said. “I should have left Drake a long time ago. But I didn’t know how.”

“It’s never too late to do the right thing.” I was a little weirded out by all the optimistic mumbo jumbo coming from my lips lately.

We entered the kitchen. The smell of chili sauce and hot dogs sent my taste buds soaring. “Are we seriously having Sam’s Coneys tonight?” My stomach gurgled in anticipation. Samantha was held in high regard throughout the Detroit Metro area for the amazing Coney dogs served in her hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

Joel nodded. “I think I’ve met my match. Samantha threw supper together in all of five minutes. And boy, does it smell good.”

“You aren’t going to believe just how good,” I said, rubbing my tummy. “I don’t even eat hot dogs, but I’ll eat a Sam’s Coney and maybe even ask for seconds.”

“Enough, already.” Sam banged the spoon on the edge of the pot. “Let’s eat.”

Joel attacked his hot dog with vigor. On the next bite, his hot dog attacked him, earning squeals of laughter from Hannah and Andrew. Samantha got in on the fun, and I watched, enchanted, the new love kindling before my eyes.

I looked away. Where had my love gone? I’d left my one best hope in Rawlings, a love gasping for life and nearly dead from lack of proper care and feeding. I forced down my Coney, close to tears from the memory of Brad sitting next to me on a red stool at Sam’s Diner. That first Coney had melted in my mouth, the delicious foretaste of a relationship comprised of down-to-earth goodness topped off with the zest of hot chili.

And I’d run from it. Too much goodness. Too much zest. I couldn’t face the possibility that someone might actually love me. So here I was. Alone, comforted by the knowledge that nobody could get to my heart. No one could hurt me.

Big whoop. Where was the thrill in that? Where was the adventure, the daring, the attitude that I deserved the best life had to offer and I was going after it?

I swallowed hard and tamped down the rebel cry. There was nothing wrong with guarding my heart. It wasn’t something to whip out and let others stomp all over. It was delicate, fragile, kind of feeble even. As great a guy as Brad was, it seemed like everything he said, everything he did brought acute emotional agony to my underdeveloped heart. I wasn’t ready for a relationship. That was all there was to it.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled and left the group to their joyous supper. Even Missy was nearly on the floor with laughter as Joel and Sam souped up their comedy routine.

I slunk to my room and set my cell phone on the bedside table. Just dial the phone, Tish, I chided myself. It’s never too late to make a fresh start.

Picking up the cell, I passed it back and forth from hand to hand. It barely weighed anything. Yet it had the power to mend disconnected lives. I hit a button at random. The unit beeped and lit up. It would be simple to press Menu and then press Brad’s name. The phone would ring, he would answer, we’d talk and laugh like two adults who admired and respected one another, then we’d hang up and go on with our lives. Five hundred miles apart.

I put the phone down. It was no use. There was no future for the two of us. He lived there. I lived here. He was a cop. I was a convict. Where could the two paths intersect for the happily-ever-after I craved?

More laughter from the kitchen. It seemed foolish to sit up here and pout over something I couldn’t do anything to change. I pasted on a smile and went back downstairs.

I did my best to participate in the revelry. A little while later, Melissa went up to put the kids to bed. The rest of us cleaned the kitchen.

“What happened with Stick today, Joel?” I asked as I dried dishes.

“He figured Melissa came here. Maybe I convinced him she didn’t, but I doubt it. Gerard’s going to take the night shift. I’ll take the day shift. It’s hard to say what’s going to happen.”

“Feels like the Alamo around here,” Sam said and flicked some dish bubbles at Joel.

“Hey.” He laughed and sent them back in her direction. “Things will be fine. These guys aren’t going to do anything too daring. They’re a bunch of pussycats as long as Drake’s in jail. But once he’s out . . .” Joel tapered off as Melissa entered the room.

“He’s going to kill me,” Missy said, finishing Joel’s thought.

“We’re not going to let that happen.” Samantha put her arms around Melissa.

“That’s right.” I circled them both in a hug. “All for one and one for all.”

About nine p.m., the night shift arrived. We said good night to Joel and welcomed the gruffer Gerard. As Melissa and Sam shuffled off to bed, he lit a fire and pulled the armchair up to the fireplace. I leaned near the staircase, watching him as he stared into the flames, losing himself in some far-off memories.

“Well, good night,” I said, hesitant to break his trail of thought.

“Good night, cuz.”

“So, you’re not really worried anyone’s going to hurt us, are you?” I edged closer to the warmth.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, what?”

“Maybe someone will try to hurt you, but I’m not going to worry about it.”

“Great. Thanks. I’ll sleep better now.”

“You asked me a question. Don’t expect me to lie to you just so you can sleep better,” he said.

“Of course not. Just so long as you don’t fall asleep,” I replied.

“Good night, Tish.”

“Night.” I padded upstairs and hopped in my snuggly twin bed. I marveled at the incongruity of having a drug dealer for a bodyguard. A good long time passed before I fell asleep.


Morning came and I felt like a flu pandemic survivor. The events of the past days had settled into my very bones.

I lay in bed listening to thumps and bumps in my normally silent home. A little voice drifted up the staircase. I flung back the covers, antsy to see Hannah’s smiling face and cuddle Andrew’s pudgy body. I stuck my feet into fuzzy slippers and headed downstairs. Coffee hit my nose the instant I opened my bedroom door. I heard laughter. Smelled bacon. Felt the love that only being part of a family could bring. My smile grew broader as I approached the kitchen. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a houseful of guests. I kind of liked the feel of happy chemicals floating around in my brain.

“Morning!” Samantha’s hundred-watt smile lit the room.

The stove clock read 7:30. “You guys are getting an early start,” I said.

Melissa fed a spoonful of something white and lumpy to Andrew. “The kids are always up by six.” The bags under her eyes seemed to darken as she said it.

“And I’ve got my first official full day of work today.” Samantha slipped on a button-up tunic with “Silvan Bay Grille” embroidered beneath a flopping perch.