“Just sayin’.”
I looked up when I felt the movement from the side. Evan was scrambling out of the nook, eyes wide with excitement as he bounced over to me, already signing frantically.
CAN I GO TO THE PARK WITH JOSIAH? PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE.
My phone started ringing before I had the chance to answer him. I held up a finger for him to give me a second, picked up my phone, and smiled when I saw the name on the screen.
“Chanda, hi, it seems our boys have been scheming again,” I said warmly.
Chanda laughed on the other end of the line. “Well, Josiah has been begging me to get together with Evan for the last week. Richard and I thought we’d take them to the park and then have a sleepover, if that’s all right with you?”
Evan was jumping around, flapping his arms, begging me. I smiled at him. “I’m thinking Evan is excited by this prospect.”
I could hear Josiah shouting in the background, “Can he, Mom, can he?”
“Put me out of my misery, Hope. Tell me Evan is free today,” Chanda said, nothing but affection in her voice for her son, who had to be just as eager as mine.
Light laughter tumbled out, and I ran a loving hand through my son’s hair. “Of course, that would be great. I have a project I need to finish up really quick, but I can drop him off at your house in an hour.”
“Sounds good. See you soon.”
I ended the call, my hands quick as I spoke with my son.
PACK YOUR THINGS. YOU’RE SLEEPING OVER, TOO.
YES!
He gave a victorious pump of his fist before he was flying out the kitchen, the entire house shaking as he banged down the hall and into his room.
“Someone must be excited,” Jenna said, taking a sip of her coffee.
I angled my head when another clatter echoed through the walls. “Apparently.”
Jenna grinned. “I wasn’t talking about him.”
16
Hope
I pulled into the parking lot tucked behind the rows of old buildings that ran the length of Macaber Street.
An anxious shiver ran my spine.
Nervously, I glanced between the address Kale had texted and the copper-hewn letters affixed to the back entrance of the building.
This was it.
Opening the door to my Suburban, I hopped out, doing my best not to shake like some kind of giddy fool as I rounded to the back and opened the hatch.
But that was what I felt.
Giddy.
Jenna was right.
Someone was excited.
And it was me.
He lived in a building that had to be more than a hundred years old.
Gorgeous.
Stoic.
Proud.
It was five stories high, the red bricks aged to a roughened, blackened patina. It was obviously one of the old, historic buildings that lined this street that had been reclaimed and repurposed into trendy, downtown living spaces.
Trees grew up all around its perimeter, thick trunks and spindly branches stretched wide as they lifted toward that blue Alabama sky, the everlasting scent of wild honeysuckle wafting through the warm, heated air.
I felt flushed beneath it, but I was sure it didn’t have a thing to do with the sun.
I grabbed the big box, which held five hundred lollipops, balanced it against my stomach, and pressed the fob to lower the hatch.
My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked toward the building.
Yep.
I was wearing heels.
After I’d dropped Evan at Josiah’s, I told myself I was just hopping into the shower to freshen up since I’d gotten a little hot and sweaty. Of course, since I was in there anyway, I shaved just about every inch of my body. Then I spent way too much time on my hair and another hour standing in front of the mirror deciding what to wear.
God, I really was in deep. Getting reckless and eager and hopeful in a way I wasn’t sure I should be.
But it was there. Spinning around me. The need compelling me to step forward and take a chance. Urging me in a direction that might be foolish.
I knew I had to be careful.
But I refused to live my life walking on eggshells. A prisoner to Dane’s will. I was living for Evan. I was living for myself. I was living for us.
At the security door, I situated the box onto my left hip and punched in the code he’d given me. There was a buzz and the metal lock gave. The door popped open an inch. I pulled it the rest of the way open with the toe of my shoe and angled through.
Inside, the bricks remained exposed, and a bunch of leather couches were set up in a common area that took up a good amount of the bottom floor.
An old-style elevator with a half-moon dial waited behind the sitting area in the middle and an open-well staircase zigzagged back and forth against the right wall.
Elevator.
Definitely the elevator.
When the door slid open, I stepped in and hit the button for the fifth floor with my elbow. The elevator lifted, bouncing and jerking as it climbed, grinding on its cogs, winding me tighter and tighter the higher it went.