Page 55 of Dream with Me

Shannon smiles at the kids while giving me a look I know is asking if I’m okay with this. I give her a subtle nod. I’ve made her many things over the years. Woodworking helps me relax, and I love seeing her face when I create the pieces she describes to me. But this is different. This gift is more meaningful. I’ve tried—and failed—to make her one for almost five years. I’ve never gotten it right until now.

“Careful,” Oliver warns Shannon as she takes the towel-wrapped gift from him.

Chase is distracted, holding the colorful highlighters Chelsea picked for Shannon, while Chelsea is busy arranging the sticky notes in Shannon’s new organizer. Olivia is watching the scene unfold, looking back and forth between Shannon and me and holding her lower lip between her thumb and index finger.

As Shannon unwraps the towel with obvious care, heeding Oliver’s advice, I watch her intently. My lower abdomen shakes inside.Is this nerves? Am I getting sick? I brush off the feeling when Shannon unveils the small wooden box I made her, and a small gasp escapes her pretty lips.

She stares at the gift, then runs her hands over the smooth walnut and traces a finger over the streaks of light maple wood that run through it. When she opens it and sees the small piece of paper inside, with directions on how to open the box in the future, her eyes mist up.

“It’s a secret treasure box, Mom,” Oliver explains. “Dad figured it out.” I think he mistakes her silence for not understanding what she’s looking at.

Olivia moves to the couch and snuggles into Shannon’s side. I’ve made myself a seat on the ottoman.

“It’s prettier than any of the ones from Charleston, huh, Mom?” Olivia asks.

Shannon nods, lifts her gaze, and looks at me through hooded eyes, then quietly whispers, “Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

Before either of us can say anything else, Chelsea jumps up from her seat on the floor and grabs Shannon’s free hand. “C’mon, Mom. There’s cake, too!”

I’m grateful when we move from the living room, the air in the room thick with emotion, and make our way into the kitchen. The next forty-five minutes is a whirlwind of activity as we all eat a piece of cake, and I begin cleaning up the dinner and dessert mess while the kids and Shannon stay around our...theirkitchen table.

Oliver and Chelsea take turns telling Shannon about their week and asking about hers while Olivia sits quietly next to her, resting her head against Shannon’s shoulder. She’s pensive with an unfocused gaze, and her body posture relaxed. Chase is unusually sedate compared to usual, and I suspect it’s because he missed his mom. Now, snuggled on her lap with his head against her chest and one of her arms around his waist, all is right in his world. Shannon’s free arm is wrapped around Olivia, and she twirls the end of Olivia’s braid.

I watch my family for a moment, missing this life. Our everyday. Missing my family being together. I swallow past the thick lump in my throat and turn away.

As I clean up, I steal glances at them once in a while. With my own father on my mind lately because of his letter, I find myself looking at my family and wondering how he willingly walked away. I hate what’s happening with Shannon and me, but I know I don’t have a choice. If I did, there’s no way I wouldn’t take every opportunity I had to be with these guys. For the first time I can ever remember, instead of feeling bitterness or anger toward my father about how he left, I feel sorry for him.

Sorry that he wasn’t the kind of man that stayed. The kind of man who saw what he had and chose to love his family despite their imperfections. I realize for the first time in the twenty-five years since he’s been gone that he missed out on way more by leaving than I ever did.

CHAPTER29

SHANNON

My phone vibrates on my lap, and I glance down discreetly to see Tillie has texted me.

Tillie: Did you remember to bring the measuring tape for the measuring contest this time?

Having learned never to read a text from Tillie in these meetings without preparing myself first, I’m able to hold in any laughter this time. I do have to bite my lower lip to keep from smiling, though.

Me: I seriously might die here. Please tell me when we leave, we won’t hold horrible, boring meetings like this.

Tillie: God, no. I’d rather stab myself in the ears than ever have to listen to this kind of droning again.

Will, seated next to me, clears his throat, and I glance over at him. His gaze moves down to my phone, then back up to me. He leans in uncomfortably close.

“Everything okay, Shannon?”

I flip my phone over on my lap so the screen is not visible.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry about that.”

I shoot Tillie a glare, and she’s smirking at me. Troublemaker.

Being forced to stop texting, my mind wanders to last night. I was exhausted when I got home from my final test, but seeing everything the kids put together for me—obviously with Troy’s help—immediately perked me up. Even though I only had to spend two nights away from home, I hated being gone.

I think about the gorgeous box Troy made me. Maybe I’ll use it as a jewelry box. Or something else, it doesn’t matter. What matters is he’s worked to master the technique so he could make it for me, five years after that trip to Charleston. It does something to my insides. It was one of our first big vacations as a family. Olivia was seven, Oliver was five, and Chelsea was a baby. It was a memorable trip, but anyone who’s gone to the beach with three young children knows it’s a mountain of work. Still, I wouldn’t change it for the world.

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