Survive the Night (Lost, Inc.) by Hinze Vicki

Author:Hinze, Vicki [Hinze, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love Inspired
Published: 2012-10-01T05:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

Paul’s sprawling house wasn’t the swanky bachelor pad Della had expected to see before her first visit here. It was a two-story, white-clapboard home, perfectly maintained and well furnished in warm tones and oversized furniture that invited guests to make themselves comfortable and to feel at home.

Della walked into the living room and couldn’t help mentally comparing its welcome to her own living room’s barrenness. “It’s not human for a house to have this much stuff in it and still be this clean.” She smiled over at him.

“It’s been home for a long time. You accumulate stuff.” He blinked. “Well, most people do. It’s an unspoken rule, like the washing machine eating socks.”

“So that’s where they go. Finally the mystery is solved.” She laughed because she was supposed to do so, but her cheeks went hot. In three years, she hadn’t accumulated more than a couple of spare towels. Walking closer to the piano in the corner, she studied the photos atop it. There were dozens framed of Maggie and two of Paul, both taken when he was in his teens. Oh, there was a third one in back, buried in with Maggie’s. His military photo, the kind taken with the flag after basic training. “Where are your other photos?”

“There aren’t any.” He didn’t seem at all bothered by that. “Maggie wasn’t old enough to handle the camera.”

“What about your folks?” Their first child and they never held a camera? She’d taken hundreds of photos of Danny—and didn’t have even the one in her personal effects that had been lost in transit along with her bags when she’d returned from Afghanistan. She’d kept it in her Bible, had studied it and the Word every day. Her heart twisted. Della wrapped herself with her arms. “Didn’t they take pictures of you guys?”

“Not that I recall.” He started toward the back of the house. “I’m starving. Want some lunch?”

Her heart hitched. He seemed so unaffected, so matter-of-fact about his distant parents. He loved them, and he absolutely loved Maggie to distraction. But when he was a boy, had anyone loved him? Had anyone loved the man?

The reason having a family was so important to him grew clear. A little sad for him, and still woozy from the shot she’d been given before leaving the hospital, she followed him into the kitchen.

It was a long room. White cabinets and granite countertops littered with small appliances, a bowl of fresh fruit, a candy jar with what looked like a musical top—no snitching undetected from that one. Stainless double sink, double wall ovens and three wide windows behind the table. There was a gourmet center behind louver doors that stood open. “Your mother must have enjoyed cooking.”

“She hated it more than you do. But my grandmother loved it.”

He thought she hated cooking. Reasonable deduction, considering she ate every meal out. “So your grandmother designed this space?”

“She and my grandfather built it with lumber off the land.” He was proud of his heritage, and his family. Odd, considering.

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