Page 35 of The Road Back Home

I help Luci and Samantha set the table, and Cheryl carries platters to the table as John finishes cooking the burgers and hot dogs.

Eddie sits back in his seat, sips his beer, watches everyone else ready for the early lunch.

Until my mom pins him with a pointed look, then he rushes to his feet and vanishes inside.

When he emerges, he has a pitcher in each hand, one full of iced tea and the other water.

“Where’s Daddy and Holden?” I ask my mother when I realize they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Your dad wanted to talk to him, ‘man to man’, so…” She shrugs and sets a fork beside a paper plate. “I’m sure they’re fine, sweetie. You know your daddy ain’t the type to threaten.”

I know but can’t help worrying anyway. I haven’t even told Holden I love him yet, and if my father scares him off, I’ll never get the chance.

That train of thought veers violently off the track and crashes into the Land of Doubts.

What does it mean that they’ve been dating for almost a year and I still can’t get the words out, even though I now live with him? Could I really not love him? Is this—

Someone jostles me, brings me back to reality, and I force a smile at Luci. She cocks her head.

“Need a map to get out of that mind of yours?”

“Nope, I’m okay. Just thinking. I, um, I’m gonna go find the other two so we can eat.”

My dad’s voice comes from the doorway. “No need, honey, we’re here.”

I exhale slowly then turn toward my boyfriend.

I can’t read the expression on his face, but there isn’t any obvious fear.

I take comfort in the possibility that he isn’t going to run screaming for the hills any time soon.

He turns on his heel and swings Ashton up as he runs by, all in one smooth motion, and I stare.

I will never not be impressed at how effortless Holden makes it look.

Ashton stares down at the plate my mother sets in front of him, face screwing up as he pushes it away. “No.”

“Ash, you gotta eat,” I say gently, nudging the plate back in front of him only for him to shove it away again. I blow out a breath and ignore the multiple sets of eyes on me. “Buddy, come on.”

“No. Ick.”

Holden shifts to face Ashton, ducking his head so they’re on the same level. “What’s ick, Ashton?” The toddler points to the pile of green beans. “Okay, so no green beans. Got it. You want some peas instead?”

“No.”

“Well, sorry, kiddo, but those are your options: green beans or peas. Which is it?”

“Tees,” mutters Ashton; he crosses his arms over his chest and slumps in his seat.

“Unfortunately for you, little trees aren’t an option. Peas or green beans. I have an idea!” Holden says it as if it’s the greatest idea in all of history, and Ashton glances up, reluctantly interested. “How about you take one bite of a green bean for me?”

Ashton takes the vegetable and stares at it. At Holden’s steady encouragement, he nibbles the end and then promptly shoves it into his mouth. There is less success with the pea: Ashton blanches, spitting it out onto the table. Holden nods slowly as if he expected it.

“Green beans then?”

“Yes.”

Crisis averted, Holden turns back to his plate of food, and conversations start up again. I can’t keep my eyes off him. He managed to convince a two year old to eat with minimal fuss. Even I struggle to get Ashton to eat when he doesn’t want to.

Mom elbows me gently, gaze darting between Holden and me, and her chin dips once.

I take it as the approval it is and look back at Holden in time to see him carefully pushing Ashton’s hand away from his plate.

From the corner of my eye, I see my mother’s smile soften, and I wonder what she reads in my face.

Though the plates are empty, no one but the children move from their seats.

I watch as Henry chases Ashton who in turn chases Henry once more, a small smile playing on my lips at the sight.

I listen with one ear to the others talking; Holden and my dad talk about the places they’ve seen in their travels, while Luci trades makeup tips with Cheryl.

Whatever Samantha and Eddie are saying is buried under the din of the other conversations.

Tristan smacks my hand when I begin gathering the dirty plates. “Sit down, birthday bitch.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I protest with a laugh, stilling when my mother pulls on my arm.

“Let the men do the hard work, honey.” She gestures toward the backyard. “Walk with me?”

I nod and round the table to loop my arms around Holden’s neck, drape myself along his back.

His hand comes up and rests on mine, and he turns his head to accept the kiss I leave on his lips.

I can feel his gaze on me as I walk away; Ashton and Henry hold tightly to our hands, and we make our way down the stairs.

As soon as their feet touch the grass, the children take off.

“He’s amazing,” Mom murmurs once we’ve gotten a few feet from the deck. “I always imagined you’d fall for someone great, but he surpasses even my expectations.”

“He really is. I can’t believe he fell for me.”

“Dealla Taylor, you—”

“No, lemme explain. Like, when he and I met, I was just some random stranger in a coffeeshop who he sat with because I was at the only table with a spare seat. I was nothing more than a journalism student who had no time for anything because of school and helping raise a toddler. Mom, I told him about Ash within hours of us meeting. That alone should have sent him running. But… But now it’s been a year, and he’s still here. ”

“Well, you deserve to be happy. And I’m so thankful that he makes you happy. Your dad approves of him, too,” she whispers conspiratorially, and I let out a quiet laugh amid the relief, the worries melting away.

We don’t say anything more, instead moving to chase the children around the yard.

Luci joins only moments later. I glance up at the deck, at the figure standing by the railing, and Holden raises a hand in greeting.

His smile paints his lips with a sweet tenderness, achingly soft.

My heart pounds in my chest, a steady I love this man I love this man I love this man in each beat.

I push to my feet, carefully easing myself off the piano bench, and run my fingers through Holden’s hair as I pass.

He smiles up at me but doesn’t stop playing; Eddie rolls his eyes with a grin and strums his guitar along to the notes coming from the baby grand.

I ignore his silent teasing; I’m too focused on spending time with Holden, showing him the affection he deserves.

He had managed to clear this last week from his schedule, but I know his tour starts soon.

His departure looms ever closer, and I struggle to be okay with it.

My footsteps are light on the stairs as I take them one-by-one, my fingers trailing along the banister.

The gate at the top of the stairs clicks when I close it behind me, and I turn toward the hall.

It stretches ahead of me, illuminated by a single nightlight plugged into the wall outside Ashton’s bedroom.

I tiptoe closer and push on the door. It swings open silently, and I step inside the room.

Freeze.

The bed is empty.

Heart pounding in my chest, I run to the bed and duck down to peer under the frame.

No Ashton. I chew on the inside of my cheek as I turn to the closet.

He’s never hidden in there before, not even during games of hide-and-seek, but I have to check.

Toy box, play tent, between the dresser and the wall…

Ashton is nowhere to be found.

My throat tightens, and I gasp for air. My vision pulses at the edges, palms cold and sweaty, and skin on fire with ice.

Tears prick at my eyes as I stumble down the hall, down the stairs, down to where Holden and Eddie still play together.

The music cuts off abruptly when Holden catches sight of me; he stands and rushes to my side.

My hands tremble violently as they flail in the air between my body and his. Stomach churning, I fight for words.

“Dee?” Holden presses. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I can’t find Ashton. He’s not in bed. He’s not in his room. I can’t find him .”

Holden stares blankly for a moment then clasps my hands in his. My breath hitches as he squeezes. The pressure does nothing to calm me.

“Sweetheart, breathe. Ash woke up from a bad dream while you were outside, so I put him in our bed. It’s okay. He’s safe.”

A sharp exhale gusts from me, and I nearly collapse in on myself.

My skin buzzes, hot and washing red, and I clench my eyes closed.

How could I not think to look in the bedroom I share with Holden?

It isn’t the first time Ashton has slept in our bed, and the gate keeps him from coming down the stairs without someone with him holding his hand.

No one could have come into the house without us noticing, I know this.

My stomach still threatens to expel the dinner and wine I’d ingested.

I push away from Holden, storming out to the patio on weak knees, followed by the calls of my name.

My fingernails dig into my scalp as I clutch at my head, and a scream bubbles in my throat.

I bite back a sob and stumble down the stairs.

Away from the light coming from the windows, into the darkness that can hide my shame.

Holden had been there for Ashton. He’d calmed the child and got him back to sleep.

But I should have been the one to do it Ashton is my responsibility, mine , and for me to have failed in my duties…

Blood roars in my ears, thoughts swirl in my brain with no end and no beginning, panic clings to me with acidic claws.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, I struggle to focus on anything but the self-loathing—the warm grass beneath my feet, the humid heat that lingers, the expanse of bruise-blue overhead speckled with flecks of white.

“Dealla?”