Page 18 of Home for Justice
Jack grinned. “I’ve never been more grateful to Cecile Marconi than the day she taught you that recipe. Your mama always had magic in the kitchen, but there was something about that pie. It was like you brought heaven into the house.”
Justice smiled, the memory bittersweet. “She didn’t have any daughters or granddaughters to pass it on to,” she said softly, “so she told me she wanted the recipe to live on.”
They fell into a quiet hush, the kind that only years of closeness could make comfortable. Outside the hospital window, the light had begun to shift, the gold of late afternoon giving way to the warm amber glow of early evening.
Then, almost hesitantly, she said, “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but… Charlie’s grandson made it in time. He got to see him before he passed.”
Jack’s eyes lit with genuine joy. “Hot damn, that’s good news.” He nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in memory. “Iremember talking to Tyler a few years ago, when he visited. Quiet man. Sharp, too. I think that was around the time Cecile died.”
Justice gave a soft sigh, thinking back. “Yes, and I had the flu that week. I couldn’t go to her funeral.”
“That’s right,” he murmured. “I’d forgotten about that.”
They sat in another pocket of silence, but her thoughts had drifted elsewhere. To Tyler. To the heat that had sparked low in her belly when their eyes had met across the dessert table. To the soft rasp of his voice when he said, “I’m glad I get to see you again.”
He was taller than she’d expected. Strong, but not in the overbearing way that screamed insecurity. He had the kind of build that spoke of power and control, of a life forged through discipline. His hair was cropped close at the sides, slightly longer on top, and his short beard only sharpened his already angular jaw.
But it was his eyes that stayed with her. That odd, smoky hazel-gray that didn’t quite settle into a single color. Eyes that held pain, and depth, and curiosity. Eyes that had searched her face like they remembered something their mind hadn’t caught up to yet.
And he wants to see me again.A smile tugged at her lips, growing as her mind drifted further into the memory of him.
Her father’s voice cut through the reverie, warm and teasing. “What’s that smile for, girl?”
Justice blinked at her father’s question, her chin jerking back slightly. “Oh, I was just… thinking about…” She was instantly aware of the warmth creeping up her neck.
Jack studied her, all too aware, and a knowing grin spread across his face. “I remember thinking Tyler was a handsome devil when I met him a few years back. Looks like I’m not the only one who noticed.”
She shot him a narrow-eyed glare, the kind she’d perfected since she was fifteen, but it bounced right off him. He chuckled, pleased with himself.
“We just talked for a minute. That’s all,” she muttered.
“Mm-hmm. Well, if he’s moving in, you’ll be next-door neighbors.” Jack’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Seems like fate might be handing you something, honey.”
She looked away, heart tugging unexpectedly. “I don’t know what he’s going to do. He might sell. Leave town.”
She didn’t mean to sound so disappointed, but the thought of Tyler turning around and selling the property to the sleazy developer who would raze Charlie’s legacy and toss up some sterile condos for vacation rentals twisted her stomach into knots.
But it was his decision. His grief. His choice. Her voice softened. “If you’re okay for now, Dad, I think I’ll head home. I’ll inform the nurses that Jordy and Debbie are no longer on the visiting list. Permanently.”
Jack huffed, though his affection showed through. “I can take care of myself, sweetheart.”
“I know you can. But I can take care of you, too.” She leaned forward, gripping his hand. “And when it’s time to take out the trash, I’ll do it.”
They shared a grin, and she leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin felt warmer than it had in days, less sallow, more alive, and it sent a quiet wave of gratitude through her chest.
Outside, the sky was deepening into that magical space between dusk and nightfall, the air soft against her face as she stepped out of the building. This time, the drive home didn’t feel weighted. Her body no longer sagged with tension. Instead, something light and electric danced beneath her skin, moving through her veins like tiny sparks.
The thought of Tyler being just next door had her smiling before she realized it.
Once home, she showered quickly, letting the hot water wash away the lingering hospital smells and emotional weight. She dressed in soft yoga pants and a worn sweatshirt, tied her damp hair into a low bun, and padded barefoot into the kitchen.
She had baked two apple pies and taken one to the reception. The other sat on the counter, still untouched.
Her dad would be on a restricted diet once he came home. This second pie would just sit there, tempting them both. She wrapped it carefully, covering the golden, buttery crust with foil and pressing the edges smooth.
But as she turned toward the window, her steps slowed. Light glowed warmly from the windows of Charlie’s old house. Well, now it was Tyler’s. Her heart skipped. She hadn’t expected him to stay there tonight. But he was. Alone, probably. Processing the ache of goodbye. Surrounded by his grandfather’s things as a deep silence settled over every room like dust.
She clutched the pie to her chest and walked toward the back door. “It’s just pie,” she told herself. A kind gesture. A neighborly offering.
