around us a second before Jackie bursts into tears, and Bob wraps his arms around his wife. The joy on their faces, along with the relief, is almost too much. My heart swells, and my eyes prickle.
Rita rubs a hand up Jackie’s back. “Would you like to go inside?” Her softened tone encourages the couple to move forward. Sullivan holds the keys to the house, and he hands them over to the stunned couple.
Nolan has been watching the whole process with rapture. Something settles over his expression, softening it a little bit, and I’m wondering if he’s thinking the same thing as me. This is a family. This is their new home and a second chance for them. Whatever the future has in store for them, they’ll weather it together.
“I’ll race you,” Nolan suddenly teases of the young boy in his wheelchair, sounding like a kid himself. The little girl squeals beside her brother before she reaches around the chair and pushes her brother forward. They each take off, but Nolan holds back, allowing the kids to feel like they’re winning. The laughter coming from all of them is like a fist clenching in my stomach—a happy fist—one that wants to hold on tighter.
Bob gives gratitude to Rita, but Rita shifts his praise. “Sullivan and Jake did it all.”
When Bob steps over to me, I anticipate his hand, but instead, he reaches for me, pulling me in for a back-slapping hug.
“Thank you, man,” he mutters over and over again. “Thank you from my entire family.” My eyes burn, and I rapidly blink away the threat of tears.
“It was no trouble,” I admit, uncertain if Bob knows anything about my history. This wasn’t a project but a sentence. Then again, standing here watching all of them, pride fills my insides. At this moment, it has become so much more.
Jackie steps up next. Her tear-soaked face is wet as she brings me in for a hug, burying her face in my neck. She begins to sob again.
“Thank you so much.” She draws back to pat my cheek once before holding my face a second. Looking me in the eye, she repeats herself. “Thank you for everything.”
The damn threat of tears breaks on me, and I quickly press at my lids, drawing my fingers over them to the bridge of my nose.
“It was nothing,” I state.
“It means everything,” she says, turning to include Rita.
“We owe you everything.”
“You owe us nothing,” Rita states, her voice confident and reassuring. This seems to encompass Rita’s entire attitude. No one owes anybody anything. We owe what we do to ourselves first. Service to others second.
As a couple, Jackie and Bob are led by Sullivan to the ramp where their son has beaten Nolan up the incline. Nolan is giving the daughter a high five. As I watch their interaction, I accept that this is all I ever wanted in my life. A family. A home. I had those things in a slightly unconventional manner. I’ve definitely been missing them in the last decade.
“You did this,” Rita says beside me. “You did good here,” she adds, still glancing at the house. Her hands are tucked into the back pockets of her jeans as she nods at the place. Pride fills her voice along with appreciation. She loves what’s been done here, and I have to agree I do as well. It feels good to give Jackie and Bob this fresh start. It feels good to build something and see that, like anything, there is a beginning and an end. The thought has me staring at Rita. Some things are not meant to end, though.
“Is that a compliment?” I tease. The last week has been difficult. Rita has been here full time, but we haven’t had a moment alone together. I have so much to say, so many apologies to give her, but I’ve been stumped as to where to start.
“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head, handsome. It’s already big enough,” she snarks back, giving me an easy smile.
“You still think I’m handsome?” I joke, falling easily into our old banter.
“You already know I do,” she says, her voice lowering, reminding me of all the tender moments between us.
“Would you let me buy you a coffee? To celebrate.”
Observing her red-rimmed glasses and her light-colored hair blowing in the breeze, Rita wanted the same things I did at one time. A spouse. A home. Maybe children. If I could restore anything for her, it would be these