Home to Stay (The Long Road Home #2) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,10

to grip a wrench. Hard to hold on to a screwdriver.”

“Gramps, I’ve got no problem helping. It’s not like there’s anything else going on, and it’s stuff I’d want to fix anyway.”

“If you’re staying, you lookin’ for another job?”

“Eventually. I’ve got some money for now, but I can’t just sit around forever.”

They both continued to sip their beer in silence for a few minutes before his grandfather piped up again. “What line of work are you looking to go into?”

“I don’t know. I’m good with my hands and know how to build things, but I never thought about going into construction, especially at my age.”

Gramps cackled loudly. “You’re still young, boy.”

“Maybe, but my thirty-four-year-old body has got a lot of miles on it to be trying to climb on roofs and haul wood for a living.”

“You were Special Forces with a security clearance. That ought to account for something out here in the world.”

He sighed, his shoulders lifting to his earlobes as he tried to stretch out the kinks in his back. The conversation with Cam ran through his mind. Lifting his hand, he scratched at the scruff on his face. “I’ve given a little thought to working in security but haven’t done anything else about it other than let it rattle around in my mind.” He felt his grandfather’s stare hitting the side of his head and added, “I figure I’ll know when it’s right. Anyway, tomorrow I’m heading to the elementary school.” Turning, his grandfather’s raised brows indicated more of an explanation was needed. “You gave my name to somebody from the American Legion and some kids wrote letters while I was overseas. I thought I’d stop by and thank them.”

Gramps didn’t reply, but he caught the barest hint of a grin as the wrinkles deepened. They continued to watch TV for a while, each to their own thoughts.

By the time John went to bed, he lay staring at the ceiling and considered putting off going to the school for another day. Rolling over, he punched his pillow, chastising himself. Gratitude. I need to show gratitude.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts turned to the woman at the hardware store and he wondered if he’d see her there again. Maybe he would ask Sally if she knew who the woman was, risking Sally’s curiosity. He fell asleep, thoughts of dark hair, warm brown eyes, and curves hidden by baggy, purple overalls filling his dreams.

4

The morning sun beamed down on the one-story, red brick elementary school building, sending shards of memories through John’s mind as he sat in the parking lot. Right after his mother had left, his father had brought him to Maine while he was deployed. Lonely, nervous, and heartbroken over his parents’ split, he had wanted to hold his grandmother’s hand as they walked inside to register for school. But as a fifth-grader he’d been too old to reach for her, instead pulling himself up and settling what he hoped was a don’t-mess-with-me expression on his face.

He hadn’t needed the shield as the year had passed pleasantly. A good teacher who took him under her wing and taught him to love literature. A few close friends. Joining a baseball team. His grandmother’s cookies. And even his stalwart, mostly silent grandfather who let him know he always had a home with them.

Middle school had been spent in a DOD school with his dad until his death, and he’d come back to Maine for high school.

He continued to stare out the windshield. Additions had been built onto the back and side of the elementary school, and new outdoor play equipment sat inside a fenced area. A larger fence now encompassed the entire area, and prominent signs directing all visitors to enter through the front and check in at the office were visible even from where he sat.

Glancing at his watch, he wondered if this was a good time to visit. Maybe he should go back to Gramps’ place and keep working for a few more days. The last couple of weeks had been spent finding multiple tasks to accomplish under the watchful eye of his grandfather, who pretended he was offering the jobs to John just to keep him busy. He snorted, shaking his head. Gramps can’t do the work but wants his hand in things.

He had replaced most of the planks on the front porch, making sure the steps were secure. The front and back screen doors had been repaired, their hinges oiled and latches now catching when