For Sale By Owner Read online

  Once everyone was seated at the long dining room table, Allen said the blessing, and they began passing around the oven-baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Kenzie had hoped for a few private moments with Mandy but had to settle for talking to her from across the table as she passed the biscuits.

  “I saw a sold sticker on the sign in your yard. When did that happen?”

  “A couple of days ago.” Mandy cut open her biscuit and buttered it. “We haven’t had many people look at it, so this offer came out of the blue.”

  Kenzie’s stomach clenched. It sure had. Steadying herself, Kenzie smoothed out the napkin beside her plate as though it was the most important thing in the world. As she lifted her glass to take a drink, her hands shook to think that deciding to move back might be the most foolish thing she had done in her life.

  Her sister-in-law rambled on. “I’d been so anxious because Tom and I wanted to buy the Steadman home before someone else scooped it up, but we couldn’t until we sold our home. But now we don’t have to worry. We already made them an offer, and they accepted.”

  Allen had been listening. “Why are you buying another home anyway? Isn’t the one you have good enough for you?”

  Mandy had been in the family long enough to take her father-in-law’s outspokenness in stride. She glanced at Kenzie, who commiserated with her eyes, then explained, “We needed a bigger house and more bedrooms, especially with the baby coming.”

  Allen stopped gnawing on a drumstick and frowned. “I had five brothers and two sisters, and we had three bedrooms in the whole house. One for my folks, one for the girls, and one in the basement for the boys. We got along fine.”

  “A lot of things have changed since you were young, Grandpa,” Adam said. “Now we have fire, the wheel, agriculture—”

  Kenzie had been on the verge of telling Mandy she wanted to buy the house, but her father’s comment stopped her. Really, it would be better to wait until they were alone. The last thing Kenzie needed right now was one of her father’s callous comments.

  Dinner went better than expected, and Kenzie was grateful for Mandy’s presence. Even though the children kept the conversation going, there was an underlying tension. Several times when Kenzie glanced at her father, his eyes were on her, and each time their eyes darted away.

  Right at the end of dinner, Tom breezed in.

  Kenzie looked at her watch. “An hour, huh?”

  “Brother Martindale talked and talked.” Tom held out his hands to show how helpless he had been. “He was starved for conversation, while I was plain old starving.” Tom kissed his wife, took a chair beside her, and started dishing up. “How much time do I have?”

  Mandy answered, “We ought to leave in ten minutes.”

  “Ah, well, a two-piece chicken dinner instead of four.”

  “You just eat; I’ll butter a biscuit for you,” his mother told him.

  “Thanks. I’ll shovel fast.” Tom attacked his plate.

  When Elaine asked how Tom’s work was going, he took a drink of water to wash down a huge bite before answering. “Kind of slow lately.” He threw a sly look at Kenzie. “I’m nothing like my sister. Mom and Dad have always been so proud of you, a big-shot executive director, while I’m only a lowly realtor and a colossal disappointment.”

  “I wouldn’t say a colossal disappointment,” his mom said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Tom said wryly. “I feel so much better now.”

  Her father asked Kenzie, “So, how is work going with you? Busy as always?”

  It took an effort not to frown. Her father would have to get in a little dig about her being busy and not visiting often enough. The truth was she had some big news, but now was not the time to announce it, so she kept her answer generic. “There have been a few changes, but it’s always busy.” She’d tell them all about it soon enough.

  Chapter Three

  Kenzie and Sara rode with her parents in their Honda Accord. There was little parking near the elementary school, and her father finally pulled onto a side street to find a spot.

  “We’ll have to walk a ways,” he said.

  After a block, Sara complained, “My hands are freezing.”

  Glancing over at her, Allen asked, “Don’t you have any gloves?” He then gave Kenzie a reproachful look.

  Kenzie gritted her teeth. His intimation was clear. It was a poor mother who let their child go gloveless on a cold December night. Chalk up another black mark against her. What could have happened to Sara’s gloves? Usually she kept them in her coat pockets.

  Inside the school, they found Tom, Hillary, and Adam standing just inside the lunchroom, which was filled with rows of chairs facing the stage. They took their seats, saving one for Mandy, who was backstage helping Brian into his costume. The play started with the audience clapping loudly after each number. It was great fun to watch the children perform and listen to their sweet young voices sing the familiar carols.

  Despite being on hands and knees, Brian managed to give a wave from a black-gloved “hoof” as his group sang, “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night.” As they sang, the shepherds gently herded the “sheep” as they meandered about the stage. One sheep enjoyed his role a little too much, darting here and there with one or more shepherds chasing him in hot pursuit, much to the audience’s delight.

  During the program, the audience was occasionally asked to join in singing, and even if they were slightly off-key, their enthusiasm fit right in with the littler carolers on stage.

  After the program, Brian found them. He asked eagerly, “Did you see me? Did you see me?”

  “We sure did,” his grandmother assured him. “You did an amazing job.”

  “I think we have Oscar material here,” Tom said proudly, throwing a meaty arm around his son’s shoulders. After further congratulations on Brian’s stellar performance, they made for the tables where cookies and punch had been set out. They were waiting in line when Tom recognized the man in front of him. His son was also wearing a sheep costume and appeared to be a year or two older than Brian.

  “Jared! How are you?” Tom shook the man’s hand. “I think you know most everyone, but I don’t believe you’ve met my sister, McKenzie Forsberg. Kenzie, this is Jared Rawlins, and his son, Corey, the amazing sheep.” His brows drew together. “Wait a minute, what’s singular for sheep?”

  “One sheep—two sheep,” Kenzie said. “You did a great job, Corey,” she told the little boy, who had bright eyes and tousled, soft-brown hair like his father.

  “Thank you.”

  “Nice to meet you, McKenzie,” Jared said, his black eyes on her. His smile was warm and friendly.

  He was nice looking, and Kenzie figured he was near her age, perhaps a few years older. “Actually, I usually go by Kenzie.”

  “Sorry,” Tom said to Jared. “I got mixed up—I hardly ever see her, you see.”

  Kenzie dug an elbow into her brother’s side, and he grunted and staggered as if mortally wounded. She shook her head at him as they picked up their cookies and paper cups of punch, then moved off to the side to stand in a small circle.

  Jared nodded toward Sara, and he asked, “And this is your daughter?”

  “Yes, this is Sara.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sara,” Jared said. “How long are you going to be visiting?”

  “Until after Christmas,” Sara replied. “Then we have to go back because I’m going to stay with my daddy for New Year’s Day.”

  Elaine said, “We’re so happy Kenzie and Sara were able to come out for a nice long visit.”

  A woman with short highlighted hair walked by, holding hands with a little girl. The woman paused. “Hello, Jared!”

  He turned and smiled. “Hi, Pam.”

  She flashed him a big smile and came closer. “Great play, wasn’t it? Corey was so cute.”

  “Thanks.” Jared put a hand on his son’s shoulder and spoke to the little girl, who wore a shimmering white gown and had a g
old halo above her head. “You made a great angel, Kaity.”

  “Thank you,” she replied solemnly, pink cheeks showing her pleasure.

  Pam and her daughter left, and Jared explained to Kenzie, “Pam is the assistant manager at my café.” He tilted his head a little. “Tom told me you work at some type of computer business in Chicago. What do you do?”

  She flashed a sideways look at her parents. Once again, this wasn’t the right moment to announce her news. An older couple had stopped to talk to them, Tom, and Mandy. “I’m the executive director at Midwest Computers. I assist other managers and work with clients and the public. Kind of a jack of all trades,” she said depreciatively.

  “I’ve heard of Midwest; they have stores all over. I’m impressed.” His tone was so complimentary that Kenzie came close to blushing. Jared was not only good-looking, there was something about his open, friendly expression that drew her. And she liked the interest she saw in his eyes.

  Without thinking, her eyes went to his left hand. No wedding band. Yet not all men wore them. And he had a son. Perhaps he was divorced as well. Kenzie enjoyed their conversation and was pleased as he listened with real interest and laughed at her little jokes. She felt witty and appealing. And his attention was so different from Matt’s at work—whose bold gaze had become too familiar. Jared’s friendly talk and banter caused no sense of uneasiness.

  Then, afraid she might be showing too much interest, Kenzie spoke to Jared’s little boy. “So, Corey, who made your sheep costume?”

  “It sure wasn’t me,” Jared answered for his son. “I can make a lot of things but not costumes. Fortunately, the school had some extra sheep costumes to lend out.”

  Tom overheard and said, “Jared does a lot of woodworking.”

  “Oh really?” Kenzie said. “What do you make?”

  “Toys mostly. Cars, trains, airplanes, things like that.”

  “Wow, you must be very talented.”

  “Not really, but it does take patience—and a lot of trial and error. If you’d like to stop by sometime, I’ll show you some of the things I’ve made.” Jared’s eyes held hers a moment.

  Now that was an invitation she was definitely going to accept.

  Soon, the children became bored and started punching each other. Holding onto Brian as he tried to punch his older brother, Mandy told Tom, with a hint of desperation, “We need to go.”

  It was with regret that Kenzie told Jared good-bye and went with the others down the polished hallway to get their coats.

  “It looks like you had an enjoyable evening,” Mandy told Kenzie.

  Deliberately misconstruing her sister-in-law’s words, Kenzie replied, “The play was a lot of fun.”

  “You know what I mean. I think Jared was smitten with you.”

  Tom grinned as he shrugged on his coat. “And I detected quite a bit of interest from you on my ‘romance-o-meter.’”

  “Don’t be silly.” Kenzie was glad of the darkness that hid her blush as they went out the heavy metal doors.

  “Jared’s a nice guy,” Mandy continued. “He has his own business too—opened a café in town. He’s a widower—his wife died a few years ago. From what I’ve heard, it was really hard on him.”

  So, he wasn’t married. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. But still—

  The family clustered on the sidewalk, their breath foggy in the cold night air. Mandy gave her a hug. “Thanks for coming. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Wait a minute!” Kenzie interjected. “I thought you guys were coming over to the house.”

  “It’s almost nine. Time for bed,” Tom said. “School tomorrow.”

  Rats. She’d hoped to talk to Tom privately. Oh well, she’d just go and talk to him at his office tomorrow.

  Once they were back at her parents’ home, she and Sara hung their coats in the utility room, then went to the kitchen, where her parents were getting a drink of water. Kenzie was dragging. The long day was beginning to show on her.

  She told her parents, “I’m beat. I think we’ll unpack and go to bed.”

  “Do we have to?” Sara whined. “I’m not tired, and I don’t have school.”

  “But you do have homework you can work on tomorrow,” Kenzie reminded her. She’d gotten homework assignments from Sara’s teacher because she’d taken her out of school before Christmas break.

  “I bet you fall asleep before your head hits the pillow,” her grandpa teased, then he held out his arms for a hug.

  Elaine told them, “If you need anything, just ask. There are extra blankets in the closet.”

  “Thanks.” Once again, she’d have to wait to tell them her news. Her body was screaming for bed.

  She and Sara stayed in the bedroom Kenzie had used after moving so many years ago. The same curtains, splashed with yellow and blue flowers, framed two windows, and her old dresser with rectangular mirrors was against the same wall. The only thing that had changed was the bed. Instead of a twin, it was now a queen. Kenzie put their suitcases on top of the yellow and blue bedspread and began putting clothes away. It didn’t take long.

  Sara changed into her pajamas while Kenzie brushed her teeth in the attached bathroom.

  Sara came in. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been here for Christmas,” she said, squirting too much toothpaste on her brush.

  Kenzie was about to deny it, then added up the months. They hadn’t been back for the holidays since her divorce. Two years. She murmured an agreement.

  But Sara wasn’t ready to let it go. When they were back in the bedroom, she faced her mother, a slight figure in fuzzy pink pajamas. “Why are you mad at Grandma and Grandpa?”

  “I’m not mad at them.”

  Plopping on the end of the bed, Sara said, “You act like you are.”

  “Well, I’m not.” When Kenzie saw her words had done nothing to change Sara’s quizzical expression, she sat and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Well, I guess I am a little mad at Grandpa.”

  “Why?” Sara’s curious, china-blue eyes drilled into her own.

  “Hey, we’ve talked about this.” When Sara first realized something was wrong between her mother and grandfather, Kenzie had talked with her—explaining it on a child’s level. But apparently, being in the same house with her grandparents had roused some of Sara’s old questions and concerns.

  “Grandpa said some things that hurt your feelings.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Sometimes Grandpa says things that aren’t very nice,” Sara admitted. “Why won’t you tell me what he said?”

  “Because it’s between him and me.” Kenzie smoothed her daughter’s hair.

  “Did he say sorry?” When Kenzie shook her head, Sara leaned against her. “You’ve been mad a long time.”

  True. Kenzie was ashamed at how it still bothered her. “I know. I need to forgive and let it go. And I have been trying.” Kenzie held her daughter close, her chin on Sara’s strawberry-scented hair. Two years was too long to hold on to hurt feelings, yet she’d been unable to get past the wave of hurt that stabbed her heart each time she thought about what he’d said. Even now, Kenzie wondered how her father could have said such terrible things. He’d been judgmental, chauvinistic, self-righteous, and—and just plain mean!

  Closing her eyes, Kenzie stopped the internal reverie. She could not—would not—allow negative thoughts to run away with her. She would be understanding and forgiving. Before leaving Chicago, Kenzie had decided to talk to her father, even though she didn’t relish the idea. It was sure to be upsetting. Still, what was more painful? Years of inward seething or a few agonizing minutes of talking? She’d swallow her pride and go to him, even though he was the one who should have been coming to her. And she’d be taking a chance. A heart-to-heart talk might not make things right but result in more hurt—especially if her father remained true to character and spewed forth more poisonous comments.

  Sighing heavily, Kenzie slipped down an
d kneeled beside the bed. “It’s late, so we’re going to skip our scripture reading, but let’s have prayer.”

  Later, as she lay beside her daughter, Kenzie peered through the window. How lovely the pines were with moonlight turning them to silver. Beginning to drift off, Kenzie made plans. First on the list, and underlined twice, was driving to town and talking to Tom about the house. After all, the house was the foundation for all of her plans. If she was to begin a new life—and she was—then she had to have that house. One way or another.

  Chapter Four

  Hanging the sheep costume on a chair in the dining room so Corey didn’t forget to take it back to school, Jared went to his son’s bedroom. Corey was sitting cross-legged on his red car-bed—a special bed his grandfather had made. The sides were cut to look like a race car. Headlights were painted on the front, black wheels on the sides, and the number 87 on the “door.”

  “You did really good in the play tonight, son.” Then Jared teasingly added, “You looked and acted just like a sheep.”

  This was a mistake, because Corey promptly leapt out of bed, got on his hands and knees, and began ambling around the room bleating, “Baaaaaa! Baaaaaa!”

  “Okay, Mr. Sheep, did you brush your teeth?”

  “Baaaaa!”

  Jared eyed his son thoughtfully. “Is that a yes-baaaa or a no-baaaa?”

  Nodding his head energetically, Corey intoned, “Baaaaaa!”

  “All right. Now, do you want to go outside with the other sheep, or do you want to sleep in this nice comfy bed?”

  His son considered a moment, making Jared wish he’d kept his mouth shut. Then with an amazingly nimble leap, Corey soared onto the bed.

  “Wow, I had no idea sheep were so agile,” Jared said, pulling the covers up.

  “Dad, can we get a sheep when we move into our new house?”

  Jared chuckled as he tucked his son in and sat on the edge of the bed. Every day, Corey asked what they could do or get when they moved into their larger home. “I’m not sure the backyard is big enough to handle a sheep. And I’d have to check zoning restrictions.”