Second Chance Father

Jack had already coated his first two biscuits, but he should’ve thought to offer some to his guests. He reached for the jar. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m...not used to having company.”

She took the honey, waited a beat, then asked, “And you weren’t really planning on having anyone here at all, were you?” The question begged for an answer that elaborated on his reasons for setting up his home in the middle of nowhere, escaping civilization and everything it entailed, all of the pain it instilled, but Jack wasn’t ready to explain. Didn’t know if he’d ever be ready. He’d already told her more than he’d planned.

So he simply said, “No, I wasn’t,” and when he saw Cody frown, he added, “But it’s okay.”

The boy didn’t smile, but the frown lifted into the flat line that he often displayed when he appeared to tighten every muscle in his face in an effort to control...something. Maybe that kept him from speaking when he wasn’t ready to talk yet. Or maybe that was the way he hid his own emotions. Rather than build a cabin in the woods, he built a fortress around his words and protected them with a vengeance.

Suddenly, Cody pointed toward the jar Elise now held in her hand.

“You want some too, Cody?” she asked with a smile. When he held his plate toward her, she lifted the top off one of his remaining biscuits and poured the honey in the center. “See what you think.”

The boy took a big bite and hummed so deeply it sounded like a growl.

Elise’s eyes lit up. “That good, huh?” She drizzled the honey on her two biscuits and grinned when Cody held his plate toward her for more. She obliged him by covering the other biscuit with honey and then told Jack, “I hope you have more inside, because we’re making a huge dent in your stash.”

“I bought a few jars when I went to the store last week, so I’m good.” He’d thought it would last him a while, but if he had more morning visits from Elise and Cody, that might not be the case, because Cody was again motioning for more of the sweet substance, and still humming.

“It’s delicious.” She took another bite. “Is it local?”

“Yeah, I bought it in Stockville. The woman at the grocery had it for sale near the counter and said she gets it from a beekeeper that lives nearby.” He ate more of his biscuit and tried to recall the last time he’d had casual conversation while sharing a meal. He couldn’t. And the realization not only made him grateful for this time, but sorrowful that he’d been without anything like it for so long.

He truly missed his family.

“That’ll keep you from getting sick, you know.” She grinned as Cody ran a finger through some of the honey that had escaped his biscuits and pooled on his plate. He popped it in his mouth and hummed even louder.

“Honey will keep me from getting sick?” Jack took another bite.

She nodded as she sipped her coffee. “That’s what my grandmother always said. She put a spoonful in her coffee each morning to help with colds and allergies.” She shrugged, took another bite of biscuit. “I have no idea whether it actually works, or if it’s an old wives’ tale, but that’s the story. Something about taking in the local pollen to build up your immunity.”

Jack had never heard anything like that, but he knew that people from the South had their own way of looking at things, their old-fashioned remedies that often proved to be true. He’d stayed in a small town near Birmingham a few years ago when filming Jacob’s Dream and had fallen in love with the easy lifestyle, the moderate climate and the charm and grace of Southerners in general. It’d been part of the reason he’d looked for something in this location when he’d decided to retreat from the world, the beauty of the place, rather than the people. He hadn’t planned on getting all that close to the community.

But here he was, undeniably getting close to these two.

Cody held up his palms, and Jack saw that, while all of his biscuits and the entire glass of milk were gone, his hands were shiny from honey, particularly his fingers, since he’d slid them all over the plate in an effort to eat every drop.

“Hang on,” Jack said. “I’ll get something to clean that up.”

He went inside, got a dishcloth and wet it with warm water, then returned to the porch. “Wipe them with this.” He handed the cloth over and watched as Cody meticulously worked it over his palms and then in around each finger. After he finished, he handed it to Elise, who did the same and then passed it to Jack, who followed suit.

Once her hands were clean, Elise gathered the plates while Jack scooped up the cups and honey, and then they started inside while Cody moved toward the bags he’d dropped earlier.

She paused at the door. “We’ll be right back, Cody. Don’t leave me again, okay?”