Redeeming Us by Ivy James

Author:Ivy James [James, Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Holiday, Military
ISBN: 9781946863379
Google: IKOhDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07V7NWG3W
Publisher: Kindred Spirits Publishing
Published: 2019-07-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“GET YOUR SHOES ON, DORK. We’re going to get something to eat and get away from the bad stuff Pop’s been cookin’.”

“Where are we going?” He looked up and saw a boy leaning against the doorway. The kid had long black hair and was tall and lanky, too thin for his size.

“Does it matter? At least it’s not Pop’s. Boy, I can’t wait for Mom to come home from Aunt Ginny’s. Come on. I call the front seat.”

He tossed the He-Man figure aside and scrambled to his feet. “But it’s my turn!”

The kid rolled his eyes and gave him a glare. “I’ll give you a head start, but first one to get there, gets it. Don’t be stickin’ your head out the window like a dog if you win, though. Somebody might see.”

He grabbed his shoes and pulled them on, forgoing the laces. “Hey, Joe, you think Pop will take us huntin’ for crawdads? He knows how much we like them and Mom’s not here to complain about the mess. Joe? Hey, wait up, Joe! That’s not fair! That’s my seat!”

“Hey. Hey, come on, son, wake up. Food’s on. You got about fifteen minutes to be ready to fight for your share.”

Beau opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, the dream slowly fading away like Pop’s footsteps down the hall. How could he have forgotten to ask Pop about the kid named Joe?

He lifted his hands and rubbed his bleary eyes, blaming his heavily medicated state last time for the lapse. The ever-present headache that came with the memories pounded through his temples and he winced from the pressure.

“Hey, Pop, do you know a—” Stilling, he could hardly believe it when the name formed on his lips the same time an image sprang into his mind. Full-blown, detailed, he’d know the kid if he saw him in a picture. He’d remembered something else!

“What’s that?” Pop called from the opposite end of the house.

Beau hurried out of the bedroom toward the kitchen. He’d worked at the job site, come home to check on Pop and found him holed up in his room, snoring as usual. The late night and hot work had caught up with Beau so he’d decided to sleep while he could, reminding himself that he was still recovering from his own hospital stay. The last thing he wanted was for Pop to wake up raring to go while he was too tired to move.

The E.R. docs had blamed Pop’s asthma attack on stress and fatigue and the grit associated with construction. He couldn’t do anything about the dust and dirt, but he could certainly pitch in more now that he was out of the service and back on his feet.

His physical therapy was doing wonders and his shoulder didn’t hurt that much anymore. He’d have to watch getting up and down and make sure he didn’t twist the ligaments in his thigh damaged by the shrapnel, but if he was careful, he could definitely put in more hours and help his father out.

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