Homecoming Day Read online

  Without overanalyzing what he was about to do, he leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. It wasn’t just some light peck that she would be able to write off as friendship. It was a kiss full of hunger. Not just desire, though that was there, but a need to feel connected. And he found that here with Laura as she deepened the kiss.

  Jamie squawked in the backseat, bringing them both back to reality.

  “Seth, I…” Laura seemed stricken as she climbed into the driver’s seat and said, “I’ll talk to you soon,” before shutting the door.

  Seth watched as she pulled away.

  What the hell had he done now?

  BY THE TIME MONDAY ROLLED around, Laura was at her wit’s end.

  Seth Keller had kissed her. Not some platonic, hey-we’re-friends sort of kiss, but a full-out plundering that had left her knees weak.

  She’d wanted him.

  And the guilt that followed that confession ate at her.

  She loved Jay. Truly loved him heart and soul. She’d planned to marry him and build a life with him. She’d given birth to his son.

  Then she’d kissed Seth Keller.

  What kind of woman did that make her?

  Seth called, but she’d let the machine pick up. She didn’t know what to say to him.

  She was relieved when JT arrived.

  She thought she was managing to behave normally, as if she was plain old Laura Watson, mother and teacher, not Laura Watson, woman who went around kissing other men. At least she thought she was managing it until she walked JT to the door after the lesson and the girl asked, “You okay?”

  “Why, sure I am,” she replied as brightly as possible.

  JT didn’t look as if she believed her. As a matter of fact, her disbelief was evident. “You should probably try to get some sleep when Jamie takes a nap.”

  Sleep? What was that? Every time she shut her eyes she dreamed of Jay, or of Seth.

  She wasn’t sure which dreams left her feeling more guilty.

  “Really, get some sleep,” JT reiterated as the girl’s mother honked her horn.

  Laura shut the door and let her happy facade go.

  She should call Seth and tell him thank you for everything, but no, thank you. She didn’t need him. She—

  The doorbell rang, interrupting her internal conversation.

  Laura scanned the counter, but didn’t see any forgotten books. She wondered what JT had left behind as she picked up Jamie from his baby seat and headed to the door. She stopped a moment as she realized how easily she’d managed it. No hesitation. No worry about dropping him or picking him up wrong.

  That was progress.

  Every day she was feeling more comfortable with the idea of being a mom.

  Laura opened the door to find Eli Keller and a woman she’d never met, standing on her porch.

  “Great. You’re here.” As if an afterthought, she added, “Hi, Laura. This is my friend, Angelina Tucker.”

  “Just Tucker, please.” Tucker was dressed in paint-splattered jeans with holes in the knees, and a sweatshirt that proclaimed, Tucker’s Garage, We Fix ’Em & Paint ’Em Better Than Anyone Else. The sweatshirt’s hood was pulled over her head, but brown curls escaped the sides. The sweatshirt didn’t look nearly warm enough for the bitter cold afternoon.

  “Please, come in, before you freeze,” Laura encouraged them.

  Eli turned to Tucker. “See, told you that a sweatshirt isn’t a coat, and you were going to freeze.”

  “I’m fine,” Tucker said. “My dad would say that Tucker blood is as thick as mud. We don’t get cold. Not like Eli here. She’s always freezing. She says you’re a teacher, too. I think part of teacher’s college curriculum is Worrying 101.”

  “Maybe,” Eli said, laughing at her friend. “Hang on a second, Laura, while we get the stuff from the car.”

  “Stuff?” Laura asked.

  “Uh-huh, stuff.”

  Eli and Tucker were back at her door a moment later each carrying a big box. “Can you point us to the kitchen?” Eli asked as she kicked off her cute dressy black boots at the same time Tucker kicked off brown work boots.

  Laura shut the door. What on earth were they doing here? She simply pointed and said, “Down that way,” as she wondered what was going on.

  “I was concerned that you wouldn’t be here,” Eli said, “and we’d have to leave the boxes outside. I mean, it’s cold enough, but still.”

  Laura followed in her wake. “Eli, don’t get me wrong. It’s lovely seeing you, but do you mind telling me what you’re up to?”

  “Well, it’s not really me. Okay, so some of it’s me, but the rest is the Kellers. Yes, my friend, you’ve been Kellerized.”

  Laura couldn’t help laughing. “Kellerized?”

  Tucker snorted and set her box on the counter. “That’s right. Once the Kellers decide that you’re one of them, there’s no escaping. They’ve adopted me and my son, Bart. I met them through Eli and they just kept us. We’d have been to Cessy’s basketball game if my Dad hadn’t been sick.”

  Eli plopped her box on the counter. “Tucker’s right. Zac’s mom decreed that a new mom shouldn’t cook, and called in the troops. There are enough frozen dinners in here to last until Jamie’s a year old. She had me check with Seth who said you had a freezer. Please let him be right when he said yes.”

  “It was fairly empty. Then Jay’s buddies sent over meals and now this? I may not be able to close it.”

  “Not everything is for the freezer. Mom—Deborah—sent you packets of snacks. Cut up veggies and cheese. I’m supposed to remind you that since you’re nursing you’re still eating for two and you need to be sure to get plenty of vegetables and calcium.”

  “I put individual slices of lasagna in containers and there’s some chicken soup stock.” Tucker handed her an index card. “Here’s the recipe for homemade noodles. It takes a few minutes, but it’s fast and so good, if I do say so myself.”

  “You should,” Eli assured her. To Laura she said, “Tucker’s soup and lasagna are fantastic.”

  “Notice Eli qualified my cooking. The soup and lasagna are good. It’s just the rest of my cooking that’s suspect. But I figure, if you have two dishes you can make without sending people to the hospital, you’re doing good.”

  “And this one.” Eli pulled a plastic baggie from the top of the box. “That’s from Colm. He said that Anna says his peanut butter and bananas are the best, but bananas get mushy, so he made you peanut butter and jelly. And he added that it’s on brown bread and Anna says that’s better than white bread. And there’s an apple from him. Green. He says those are better than red.”

  Laura took the bagged sandwich. “Oh, that’s so sweet.”

  “That’s Colm. Sweet.”

  “Not him. All of you.” Laura could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Nor could she explain how she knew they were friends when she’d only talked to Eli on a few occasions, and this was the first time she’d met Tucker. Yet she simply knew it was so.

  “Laura, are you all right?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’ve felt so alone since Jay died.” As she said the words, a bittersweet yearning filled her, not the stab of pain she usually had. “But over and over, people remind me that I’m not. I have old friends and now new ones. This isn’t how I planned things, but the universe keeps reminding me, with no subtlety whatsoever, that people do care.”

  Eli stopped unpacking the box and leaned over and took Laura’s hand. “Life tends to throw us all for a loop sometimes. My loop came in my forties, when I was better able to cope with it. Tucker didn’t have the luxury of time when her life was tossed head over heels.”

  “I was still in high school and found out I was pregnant. I didn’t have a mom, so it was tough. But luckily, this teacher took me under her wing.”

  Eli blushed. “And in so doing, that teacher gained a great friend. The point is, Laura, we all went through—go through
—rough patches, and there was and is pain, but…” She paused a moment and said, “My life isn’t anything close to what I thought it would be. But it’s good. It’s special. And despite the pain I went through getting here, I’m happy with where I am.”

  “And I don’t think any kid dreams of being a teen parent, but I don’t know where I’d be without Bart. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” Tucker said. “What we’re saying is, life changes unexpectedly. And when it does, you need people in your corner. Now that you’ve been Kellerized, you have that all over the place.”

  “I think being Kellerized is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I so appreciate what you’ve said and done today. Both of you. I’ll call Seth’s mom and thank her.”

  “You can call any of us, anytime.” Eli and Tucker started packing the foil-covered and freezer-bagged food in the freezer. Eli stopped and looked at the pictures on the door. “Your family?”

  “I have more formal pictures in the living room, but I like the candid shots more. That’s my mom and dad. They were in college in that one.” Two young coeds hung from a low tree branch. Her mom’s hair was so long it brushed the ground. And her dad’s glasses were falling from his head onto his forehead. “And that’s Jay and me on the beach. We asked this older couple to take the picture with the sunset behind us.”

  Eli reached out and touched the plastic-covered photo. “He looks like he was a nice man.”

  Tucker nodded.

  “He was.” Was. No longer is. That past tense thing came easier now. It still hurt, but not as much. And it should hurt. She longed for the pain. It was a familiar friend. The guilt she kept experiencing now, wasn’t.

  “It’s good you and Jay’s family have Jamie. Jay gets to live on through his son.” Eli finished loading up the freezer. “May I?”

  Laura nodded and handed her the baby.

  Eli cradled him. “He’s a lucky boy. He has so many people who love him.”

  “My turn,” Tucker said.

  Eli handed the baby to her friend who took the baby with a casual ease. She cradled Jamie up against her loose sweatshirt.

  “Speaking of lucky and babies, I have news.” Excitement filled Eli’s voice. “Big news.”

  Laura was about to ask what news, when Eli burst out, “We’re having a baby. Well, not really, but we’re getting one. Although getting sounds wrong. It doesn’t matter. We’re adopting a daughter and she’s coming home soon.”

  “Excuse Eli.” Tucker still cradled Jamie, who looked utterly content. “She has problems forming coherent sentences when she gets excited.”

  “You know you’re excited, too, Tuck.”

  “Yeah, but I can still talk.”

  Eli laughed, then turned to Laura. “My daughter’s name is Ebony, but she told me she’s Ebi, except when she’s in trouble, then her foster mother calls her Ebony, so she doesn’t like Ebony. She’s so smart and funny. She told me she knows all about being a big sister, so Johnny’s lucky to get her. I told her we were all lucky to get her.”

  And at that, the terminally cheerful Eli Keller burst into tears. “She told me that our names almost match. She read my name on the social worker’s chart. Ebi and Eli. I broke down then, too.” Eli was crying so hard she stopped talking.

  Tucker rolled her eyes, but Laura could see she was touched as she found a tissue for Eli.

  Eli mopped her tears and said, “Cessy—Seth’s youngest sister—wrote this essay at school about being teased because she didn’t match Mom.”

  “The Keller family does have a sort of United Nations feel,” Laura said.

  “Yes. The teacher sent Mom the essay and she read it out loud my first Keller Christmas, much to Cessy’s embarrassment. Laura, that essay…you’ll have to read it next time you go over. Mom’s got it framed. Cessy ended up taking her whole family in for show-and-tell and informing her classmates that none of them match on the outside. They have different colored skin and hair. But they match on the inside, that they love each other and that’s what matters.” Eli sniffed. “That’s what I told Ebony. That our names almost match, and that’s nice, but that’s not what matters the most. That we match on the inside because we’re a family. She’s been my family since the day she was born—she just didn’t know it yet. We’ve been looking for her for a long time, and now we’ve found her and she’s ours.”

  Eli sniffled. “That’s what I need you to understand. Before I got pregnant, I knew where I thought my life was going, but nothing worked out that way. Everything is different. And as our friend Colm would say—different is just different—”

  “And that can be very special,” Laura finished.

  Eli shot Laura a smile that Laura recognized. It was the same smile she used when a student finally got a concept.

  “Now, before I go,” Eli said, “I’m inviting you to Ebi’s Homecoming Day. I don’t have an exact date yet from the social worker, but whatever day it’s going to be, I’d like you to be there.”

  “You might as well say yes right off the bat, Laura. Once you’ve been Kellerized, there’s no way out. They’ll simply hunt you down. Tell her what Homecoming Day is,” Tucker commanded.

  “Whenever the kids arrived at Mom and Dad’s, that’s their Homecoming Day—capitalized, like Christmas. Those children weren’t simply adopted…they came home. We’re going to carry on the tradition with Ebony. We want everyone, including you and Jamie, to be a part of welcoming our daughter home.”

  Laura didn’t want to go. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and Seth, and conversely, she wanted to be with him as much as possible. How could someone have such warring feelings? “Thank you, but—”

  She looked at Eli’s obvious excitement and found herself saying, “Thank you. I’d love to be a part of Ebony’s Homecoming Day.”

  “I’ll call Seth and get you both the details.” Eli put a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “I know this is a difficult time. Remember you have friends. You call if I can do anything.”

  “You can call me, too, but, unless you have a car that needs fixing or specialty painting, I’m not sure how much use I’ll be.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Eli said. “She’s very handy.”

  Tucker handed the baby back to Laura.

  “I’ll tell you, Tucker, if I can learn to handle a baby with the ease that you do, I’ll consider myself very handy.”

  “That’s not tough. Just imagine you’re cradling a piston and gently placing it in the engine head and you’ll have it.”

  Laura laughed. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Eggs,” Eli explained. “Babies are like hard-boiled eggs. They require care, but they’re tougher than you think they are.”

  “Now that, I get. Thanks. And, Eli, congratulations again.”

  “Thanks. My daughter may be home in time for Christmas. That’ll be something else to celebrate.”

  Laura saw them out and felt as if she’d been thrust into the center of an emotional whirlwind. She couldn’t really sort through all of it.

  When she was teaching Art History, she told the kids if they could finish a lesson and have one take-away, one impression or fact, she’d be happy. Well, though she still felt breathless from the visit, she had her take-away, Colm’s phrase about different being special.

  Her life was different, but she didn’t have to look any further than her son to find some special. She’d known that and held on to that throughout her pregnancy.

  Maybe it was now time to start looking around and seeing what other special gifts life had to offer her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LAURA BELTED OUT THE CHORUS of a popular tune.

  Something had changed since Eli and Tucker’s visit two and a half weeks ago. She felt lighter. Happier. And when she was happy, she sang. Badly. Loudly. And with a great deal of gusto.

  JT looked up from her math book on the coffee table and laughed. “Trying out for American Idol, Ms. Watson?”

  She st
opped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sing that out loud.” She was sitting on the floor across from JT. Jamie was on his stomach on the floor next to her, studying a stuffed zebra. He could raise his head now.

  The book said to make sure he spent time on his tummy each day. It would strengthen his neck, and that soon he’d start doing more than raising his head. He’d be raising his whole torso, then rolling over. Then the world would be his oyster.

  “Sometimes happiness spills out.” It had been a while since she was so happy that she’d ended up singing. She smiled at the memory of Jay’s teasing—memories that made her smile rather than cry. “I’d like to say being caught by you was the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me, but it’s not even close. Once, I went to a teacher’s conference at a hotel. I was getting ready for the evening and jamming—”

  “Jamming?” JT teased.

  Laura tried to look indignant. “What, jamming isn’t a hip word anymore?”

  JT shook her head with what Laura assumed was pity. “Ms. Watson, hip isn’t a hip word anymore.”

  Part of Laura’s happiness stemmed from JT’s progress. JT had brought home an English test—a C–. For JT, that was an improvement. They hadn’t worked together that long. By the end of the year, Laura hoped that JT would have a C average.

  Feeling overwhelmingly gleeful, Laura continued their “hip” banter. “Well, I’m a mom now and I don’t have to be hip. I shouldn’t even try to be hip. I mean, a hip mom is a huge embarrassment to a child.”

  JT shook her head again. “I don’t think Jamie has to worry about your hipness.” She snorted. “Finish your story. You were at a conference and in a hotel room…?”

  Laura ignored JT’s rip and continued, “I was in the hotel room by myself, singing as I got ready to meet friends for dinner—friends in the room next to mine. When I went into the hall and met them, they asked what radio station I’d been listening to. I was singing so loudly they’d heard me through the wall.” She remembered Pam and Barb’s laughter.

  “You must have sounded good.” JT laughed.