Where Azaleas Bloom Read Free

with them. It was pitch-dark outside and there was no
light burning at home.
    “Why don’t I walk up the path with you?” he suggested. “It’s
pretty dark out here.”
    “Oh, I just forgot to leave on the outside light,” Lynn said,
but the embarrassed nervousness in her voice suggested otherwise. “I think it’s
burned out anyway.”
    “Let me check it for you,” Mitch offered.
    “That’s okay. I know I’m out of spare bulbs. They’re on the
shopping list, but I keep forgetting them.”
    He heard the claim for what it was, another face-saving
lie.
    “No problem. I always have extras in the truck.” He walked over
and grabbed one out of the back before she could object, then crossed the yard.
“If you’re going to be out at night, you’ll need this,” he said as he quickly
removed the old bulb and screwed in the replacement. “Even in Serenity, it’s
important to take safety precautions.”
    “I know,” Lynn said. Then, as if it were costing her
considerable pride, she managed to mutter, “Thanks.”
    “Not a problem. If you ever need anything done around here, let
me know. For the next couple of months or so, I’ll be at Raylene’s every day.
I’d be happy to help out. No charge, of course. Just a neighborly gesture
between old friends.”
    Lynn gave him a wan smile. “I appreciate that, but we’re
managing okay.”
    Mitch understood pride all too well. He merely nodded. “Well,
the offer’s on the table, if anything comes up. Don’t hesitate, okay?”
    “Thanks. Good night, Mitch.” She hesitated, then added, “I know
I should have let you know when the accident happened, but I was real sorry to
hear about Amy. Losing her must have been hard for you and your sons.”
    He nodded. “She was a good woman. Not a day goes by that I
don’t miss her. It’s been a year now, and I still walk in the house some nights
and call out to her.” He shrugged. “They say that will pass.”
    She touched his arm briefly. “ They, whoever they are, say a lot of things, but I think it’s mostly because they
don’t want to say that loss of any kind really sucks.”
    “Yeah,” he admitted, “it really does. Good night, Lynn.”
    The kids had gone inside right away and now she hurried after
them. Mitch stood where he was, staring after her.
    Something wasn’t right here. Anyone could see that. But he
understood the need to reclaim independence after a blow. He also knew that it
was a woman’s natural tendency to protect her kids at all costs. If Lynn needed
help badly enough for their sake, she’d turn to anyone who offered a helping
hand. And if she ever asked, he’d be right there. Somebody needed to fix the
unmistakable sorrow and fear that never seemed to leave her eyes.
    And he, more than he’d realized, needed a project. Maybe, he
thought, they might actually need each other.
    * * *
    “Raylene’s lasagna is the best,” Jeremy murmured
sleepily when Lynn went to check on him before bed. “How come you don’t cook
like that anymore?”
    “There’s not enough time in the day,” Lynn told him.
    “But Raylene works, too, and she does it,” he persisted.
    She knew her ten-year-old couldn’t possibly understand how
uncomfortable this entire conversation was making her, but it was hard to resist
the desire to snap. “Tell me what you miss most and I’ll make it for you soon,”
she promised.
    “Steak and baked potatoes,” he said at once. “That was Dad’s
favorite, too.”
    And way beyond their current budget, Lynn thought wearily.
Somehow, though, she would make it happen.
    “I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Tomorrow?” he pressed excitedly.
    “Not tomorrow, but soon,” she said firmly, sighing at the
unmistakable disappointment in his eyes. “Now go to sleep. You have school in
the morning. Did you study for your history test?”
    He gave her a shrug. “Enough.”
    Which meant, she feared, not at all. Why hadn’t she sat down
with him immediately after dinner and gone