The Sergeant's Secret Son. Bonnie Gardner

I can do is send some soup home with you. I’d never be able to live with myself if you died of starvation in your sleep when I had all this food over here.” She screwed the lid on top, wrapped the jar with a couple of dish towels, and put it in a plastic bag.

      “Thank you,” Macy said, accepting the bag. Funny, saying thank you was getting easier by the minute. Too bad she hadn’t managed to thank Alex. “Alex came by the clinic today and not only fixed the shingles on the roof, but made sure I had lunch, too.” She smiled, remembering the way he’d made an appointment to see that she ate.

      “That’s my boy. I wondered where he was all day,” Willadean said. “At least he had something to keep himself busy. That man’s been too restless the last couple of days. I don’t think he’s very happy with the idea of having to set down at a desk even if recruitin’ is good, decent work. You know that man’d rather be in the thick of things than settin’ on the outside, watchin’.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I know,” Macy said. That’s what she was afraid of. She covered a yawn with her hand. “Come on, Cory, Mama’s tired.”

      Cory scooped up more soup, then grabbed a handful of crackers and shoved them into his mouth and pushed out of the chair at the same time. “Okay, Mama, I’m ready,” he said, his mouth full.

      Macy smiled. Little boys were so dear. “Let’s go, son.”

      “What’s funny, Mama?” Cory said, skipping along behind her as they left Willadean’s house.

      “Nothing,” Macy said. “I’m just happy to have you. You are my favorite son, you know,” she said, hurrying across the yard.

      “That’s silly, Mama. I’m the onliest one.”

      Macy trudged up the three steps to the wide front porch and pulled her keys from her pocket. “And one of you is plenty,” she said, goosing him till he giggled. Then she unlocked the door, and he scampered inside.

      As she flipped on the inside light and set the soup on a table, she wondered if the mail had run today. She didn’t know why she cared. The only things it seemed to bring these days were bills, but she might as well look.

      “I’m going out to the mailbox, Cory,” she called and turned back to the road. As she hurried down the walk, she caught a flash of headlights coming around the corner. That surely must be Alex.

      Had her trip to the mailbox been for mail, or had it really been because she’d hoped to catch another glimpse of Alex? Macy shrugged. Did it really matter?

      Block pulled up behind the ancient Buick in front of his grandmother’s house and sat there a moment, thinking.

      Funny, he had no conscious memory of crossing the railroad spur that had so effectively divided the town when he was growing up. Then, it had seemed like a barrier as solid as The Great Wall of China. Even the air on the “other” side of town had once seemed cleaner, clearer, freer. Then, when a car rumbled over the tracks, the shaking had seemed like a rude reminder that he’d better be on his best behavior. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed as much as a shimmy. Today, that side of town had seemed no different than this old familiar neighborhood.

      Was disaster the great equalizer?

      Maybe he had changed.

      Block let out a low, long breath and looked around. Lights shone, warm and friendly, from most of the houses surrounding Gramma’s just as they always had this time of day. He saw the warm glow of a lamp in one house, the blue flicker of a television screen from another; sights that were so familiar, yet at this moment seemed so alien.

      He’d been back only a few days, but he almost felt as though he belonged here. When had Lyndonville, South Carolina, started to feel comfortable? When had it started to feel like home?

      He smiled and locked the car. Maybe being back in Lyndonville wasn’t so bad after all.

      He spotted Macy at her mailbox, and it surprised him that she had settled into her Aunt Earnestine’s house. He’d assumed she had moved into a modern apartment on the new side of town, but she was here, and that was fine with him. He waved, and she waved back. He supposed, though, that she had college loans to repay, so she couldn’t be choosy.

      “It turned out to be a pretty nice day, wouldn’t you say?” he called, not at all comfortable with idle talk, but for some reason, wanting to prolong the moment. Macy Jackson and he weren’t exactly in the same league, her being a doctor and all, but she wasn’t hard to look at.

      “Yes, I guess so, considering the storm,” Macy replied, turning toward the house.

      “Well, see ya,” Block said, then headed for Gramma’s. And, he thought, as he loped up the steps, two at a time, to the front porch, the best part was that Macy was here. Maybe this time, the time would be right for them.

      Remembering the skinny, big-eyed girl who used to beg him and C.J. to let her join their secret boy adventures, he had to chuckle. Who would have thought that Macy Jackson would grow up to be such an interesting woman? And such a beauty! That scrawny duckling had turned into quite a swan!

      And he knew from personal experience that her serious, professional demeanor hid a very sensuous side. Remembering the kiss in Macy’s office, he had to smile. Maybe with the very nicely grown-up Macy around, Lyndonville wouldn’t be such a bad place.

      He was a grown man, he’d gotten an education, he knew his place in the world. Well…he used to know it. But, he figured he could use the next two years, assuming he got the recruiting job, to get his head on straight and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. And where.

      As he stepped inside, interested in little more than a hot shower and a belly full of food, he had to smile. Maybe his future wasn’t so bleak, after all. Maybe he could make this recruiter job work.