Daddy's Home

After ten minutes, when she’d finally concluded he’d never quit pounding, she heard him stomp back to his truck and slam the door. She felt both relieved and yet strangely desolate now that she was once again alone.

Her heart was still in her throat as she peeked from behind the front curtain and watched him drive away in his old Chevy truck, relaxing only when she knew for sure he was gone.

He would be back. Christopher Jordan was a stubborn, vigorous man who actively pursued what he wanted. He wouldn’t let this episode stop him from seeing Sammy. But at least it would give her time to think, to sort out her feelings so she could face him again without the emotions that earlier clouded her judgement.

Running a palm over her hair to smooth it, she took a deep breath and forced a smile to her lips. She knew Gram would see right through it, but she had to try.

Head held high, she walked as quietly and serenely as possible into the bedroom. Gram sang softly to the baby, rocking slowly back and forth with Sammy tucked in the crook of her arm.

It was such a peaceful scene, and so much at variance with the frantic pace of Jasmine’s heart, that she nearly turned tail and walked out again. But Gram caught her eye and smiled.

“He’s sleeping soundly, dear,” she said softly, continuing to rock. “I fed him the whole bottle. He’s probably down for the count. Can you help me lay him in the bassinet?”

Jasmine nodded and moved forward, holding Sammy a moment longer than necessary, inhaling his sweet, baby scent and enjoying the feel of his soft skin against her cheek. It was only the threat of losing him that made her realize that she couldn’t live without him.

It was more than just the schedule changes, the responsibility that came with having a newborn. More even than knowing there was someone completely dependent on her for his every need.

It was the space in her heart that grew larger every day, ebbing and flowing with love for this little one.

There was no way she was going to let Christopher take him away. She’d once thought the gaping hole he rent in her heart would never be mended. But loving Sammy forced her to open up her heart once again, to feel and live and hope.

She kissed the infant on his soft forehead and pushed the thatch of downy hair from his eyes. She wouldn’t let the little guy down. No matter what.

“Is he gone?” Gram asked gently.

With an audible sigh, she took her grandmother’s elbow and led her to the kitchen, where she seated the elderly woman on a foldout chair. Jenny’s financial straits were obvious by the card table she used in place of a regular kitchen table.

Sammy had the best of everything, most of which had been bought by Jenny before her death. She had sacrificed everything for her unborn son, showing the kind of sweet, giving person she was all the way up to her last breath. She would have done anything for her Sammy.

Jasmine felt a tug of grief, and made a pretense of looking through the cupboard in order to have a moment to fold those feelings back into her memory. She already knew what was in the cupboards, which amounted to a box of peppermint tea and a box of saltine crackers.

“Do you want some tea?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as high and squeaky to Gram as it did to her own ears. It annoyed her to betray her feelings in her voice, especially to Gram, who was already much too perceptive. With a determined effort, she steadied her voice and continued. “I think I’ll have a cup, myself.”

“Are you okay?”

She took her time pulling two mugs from a shelf and filling them with water, before turning to face her grandmother. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I can’t imagine,” Gram replied dryly.

She set the cups in the microwave and turned it on, then sat down across from her grandmother. “You’re too wise for your own good.”

Gram met Jasmine’s gaze over the top of her spectacles and chuckled. “I haven’t been alive for eighty years without learning something.”

Jasmine reached for Gram’s hand and squeezed it. “You’ve been so much help to me these past months,” she admitted, her voice quavering with emotion. “I couldn’t have made it without you.”

“What’s family for?” Gram said, waving off her comment with a slight grunt of protest.

The microwave buzzed, and Jasmine jumped up. As she dipped the tea bags into the mugs, she took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “It was Christopher at the door.”

“Who else would it be? Didn’t sound like he was in a hurry to leave, either.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” she agreed quietly. “I should have realized he’d be back, that he’d want to see Sammy at some point. I just wasn’t prepared for him to show up today.”

“And you sent him packing.” It was a statement rather than a question, punctuated with a dry chuckle.

Jasmine laughed, but it didn’t reach her heart. “You could say that. I slammed the door in his face.”

“He’ll be back.” Gram nodded her head as if confirming her own words.

The flatness Jasmine felt when Christopher left wound itself more tightly around her chest. “I know,” she whispered.

“What are you going to do about him?”

Gram was nothing if not direct, she reflected. No games. No beating around the bush. She just said what she thought and was done with it. One of the perks that came with age, Gram always said just before blurting out something outrageous.

Jasmine shook her head. “I don’t know yet. Seeing him again confused me. I thought it would be easier. I thought…”

“That you hated him?” Gram queried gently, finishing the sentence for her. “Love doesn’t give up so easily, my dear.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No. I’m not in love with Christopher anymore.” If her heart believed that, she wouldn’t be quaking in her shoes, she thought acerbically. But she’d never admit it, not even to herself. “I’ve been over him for a long time.”

“Have you?” Gram’s questioning gaze met hers, and she looked away, afraid her grandmother would read the truth she knew must shine through her tears.

She couldn’t love Christopher! Not after all these years, and especially not after everything he’d done to her and her family.

Then why did her heart leap when she saw him again?

She’d loved him since they were both in high school, she rationalized. For years they’d been inseparable. He’d been the man to whom she pledged her life, with whom she was ready to tie the knot.

Was it any wonder she would have such a polar reaction at seeing him again?

How could she not? It was only natural, after all, for her to have lingering feelings for a man who was such a large part of her past. Some of her happiest memories were with Christopher Jordan, and that was something his recent actions couldn’t take away.

“My feelings don’t matter,” she said at last, shaking her head. “This isn’t about me.” She paused and took a deep breath, giving the bassinet a pointed look. “He wants to see Sammy. For all I know, he wants to take him away. And somehow, I’ve got to figure out a way to stop him.”

Gram slowly stood and stretched, then shuffled to Jasmine’s side, placing a consoling arm around her shoulders.

That the arm around her didn’t have the power of former years mattered not a bit. Strength flowed from the elder to the younger with an intensity that only came from inner peace.

“I know this is hard for you, dear,” she said, patting Jasmine’s shoulder as she would to comfort a child. “But don’t ignore your feelings. They are God given. Pray about it. Search your heart. And, Jasmine?”

“Mmm?”

“Talk to Christopher.”

“Talk to him?” she screeched, her anger returning in spades. “Gram, I never thought you’d be on his side, after what happened to Jenny! Why should I talk to him?”

Gram’s eyebrows creased as she frowned. “Don’t you speak to me that way, young lady,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “I may be eighty, but I can still take you over my knee!”