“Ready?” Andy said as he tossed my bag in the backseat.
“Yes,” I huffed. “I didn’t need that stupid chair anyway, but the cranky bitch in there wouldn’t listen to me.”
A low laugh rumbled in Andy’s chest. “Aaaaand she’s back, ladies and gentlemen.”
I narrowed my eyes, shooting him a playful glare as I lowered myself into his car. He closed the door and wheeled the chair just inside the lobby before he hustled back to the driver’s side of the car.
“Sorry,” I said with a heavy sigh as he started the car. “I think being cooped up in the same room for five days is taking its toll on me.”
“I’ll agree to that.” He raised my hand to his lips and kissed the top of it as he gave me a wink. “But the good news is you’re free and on your way home . . . to my home. Our home.”
“Oh, don’t get all crazy now.” I shook my head. “It’s not our home. It’s one hundred percent your home, I just agreed to stay there . . . for now.”
He licked his lips and grinned, staring straight ahead as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “Are you ever gonna just agree the first time, or is it always going to be a fight with you?”
I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t seen any other men in nearly a week, but at that moment he looked extra hot, and I was happy he didn’t want me to leave.
As we pulled up to the house, a man was walking across the front yard on his way back to a white van parked in the street. He gave us a quick wave as we drove up to the garage.
I looked nervously at Andy. “Who’s that?”
“Gloria’s new best friend.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll see in a minute.” He laughed and shook his head.
I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.
He parked the car in the garage and laughed again. “Calm down. It’s a good thing, I promise.”
We walked into the house, through the mudroom, into the kitchen, and immediately, just like my first night in the house, my nose was assaulted. This time it was different, though; it wasn’t pot roast or mashed potatoes. It was flowers.
Andy moved to the side, and my eyes bulged at the dozens of flower arrangements that covered every square inch of the kitchen. I scanned the room slowly, left to right, my mouth frozen open in shock. Pink roses, yellow daisies, purple lilacs . . . you name it, it was there.
“These are all for me?” I asked incredulously.
“Unless I won Miss America and no one told me, yes, they’re for you.” Gloria snickered as she walked over and kissed me on the cheek. “Welcome home, honey. Good to have you back.”
“Thanks,” I said flatly, still taking in all the flowers.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Andy said. “They’ve been coming in for a couple days now, and there’s no end in sight.”
“Who are they all from?”
“No idea. We didn’t feel right opening the envelopes without you,” Gloria said as she stirred the huge pot of vegetable soup on the stove top. “Maybe after dinner you guys can read some of them. The kids have been begging for a couple days now.”
I set my stuff in my room, laughed at the ten additional bouquets in there, and met everyone at the kitchen table.
“This looks amazing, Gloria, but you guys don’t have to have soup just because of me.” My jaw was still a little sore, and chewing on a big steak didn’t exactly sound appetizing yet. I pulled out the chair at my usual spot next to Becca and plopped down.
“I wanted soup!” Becca said cheerfully.
“Me too!” added Logan.
“Well, all right then. Let’s dig in.” Andy clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he picked up a large ladle.
“Daddy! You forgot,” Becca called out just as he dipped the spoon in the large pot of soup.
His head jerked slightly as he frowned at her. “Forgot what?”
She reached her right hand out to me and her left hand out to Logan without saying a word.
It took two seconds for Andy to realize what she meant, and when he did, he pursed his lips together, nodded, and took my and Gloria’s hands in his own. We all dipped our heads, and Becca began.
“Thank you for our food. Thank you for our house. Thank you for our family. Thank you for milk. Thank you for Gloria not putting celery in the soup. Thank you for my new boots. Amen.”
I pinched my lips together to stifle my laugh. No matter how many times I heard that little girl pray, if that’s what you could even call it, it never failed to make me laugh. Everyone fell right into place, laughing and talking about their days as they shoveled soup in their mouths.