The Passenger by Jacqueline Druga (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📗

might be too much; he may not trust it. Are you prepared for that reaction?” he asked Grant. “It might be painful he doesn’t know you.”

Grant nodded. “I can handle it. I can handle anything because he is alive.”

“Good.” Marge extended her hand. “Let’s go see your son. Did you want to call your wife first?”

“No.” Grant shook his head. “Not until I see him with my own eyes. Then when I do, I’ll let her know the good news.”

“As a mother myself I can tell you,” Marge said. “It will be the best news of her life.”

◆◆◆

Haley was hesitant at first. She took a bite under pressure, chewed apprehensively for a second, then she stopped. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness, Chip.” She brought her fingers to her mouth to catch the crumbs and she chuckled. “These are amazing.”

“You think?”

“Yes!” She took another bite, closed her eyes and leaned against the wall in the back hall as she enjoyed her treat. “They melt in your mouth.”

“They’re just butter cookies, that’s all your dad had the ingredients for. He doesn’t really make anything from scratch."

“No.” Haley smiled. “No, he doesn’t. You aren’t gonna happen to discover you sew, are you?

Jonas laughed. “I don’t think so. But who knows. Wait, you have …” he reached her chin, and using his thumb he brushed away crumbs.

Haley paused, looking at him as he did so. “Thank you.”

There was a moment there, just a brief moment of quiet.

Haley cleared her throat. “So, did you find a recipe for these?” She finished the cookie.

“No, I didn’t. It just came to me.”

“Wow. That is crazy how the mind works. I think someone totally domesticated you and you …” she stopped.

“And I what?” Jonas asked.

“Chip,” her voice dropped. “What if you’re married?. I didn’t even think about that”

“I don’t think I am. I don’t feel like I am.” He lifted his left hand. “Wouldn’t I wear a ring?”

“You may not. But … okay, we need to get back to the kids. They are waiting for us to take them outside.” She reached over and secured the lid on the tin of cookies. “They will enjoy these.”

“They are going to tease me. They’re teenagers.”

“It’s a chance you have to take.”

“Oh. Wait. I forgot the game pieces. Here.” He handed her the tin. “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t take long.”

“They’re right in the office.”

Tin of cookies cradled in her arms like a baby, Haley stepped into the church.

Grant stopped walking on the pathway. “A church? My son is in a church? I thought maybe a hospital or institution with the amnesia.”

Marge shook her head. “No one wanted him to go to an institution. Not when he was still learning about himself.” She and Joe led him to the doors.

It baffled Grant, it truly was the last place he expected to be taken.

When they opened the doors, he heard laughter and a woman’s voice saying something.

He was so nervous, his heart beat so strongly, everything sounded muffled and felt dreamlike.

It was a beautiful church. Old fashioned with old style pews on both sides. The walls were a pale blue. They attempted to modernize; Grant could see that.

There was a large altar with a choir section in the back. A stage was built on the left side with steps that led down behind the pulpit.

A group of teenagers were on the stage, a young woman with them.

She walked down the steps to the altar and the teens followed her.

Marge whispered in Grant’s ear as they neared. “That’s Haley, Pastor Rick’s daughter.”

When Haley reached the bottom step, she looked over and smiled. “Hey, Maw-Maw, Joe.” She turned to the group of teens and instructed them to hang tight, then made her way to the aisle. Her hand extended to Grant. “How do you do, I’m Haley.”

“Grant. Grant Truett. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you new in town?” Haley asked.

Old Joe answered. “He’s in town for a spell. Not sure how long.”

“He wanted to see the church,” Marge said. “Is Chip around?”

“Oh, he just ran to the office. We’re taking the teens outside for group today. He came up with a game. You know how kids like to compete.” She crinkled her nose. “He promised he’d play for them after the game. Look.” She snickered and held up the tin. “He made cookies.”

Marge immediately looked at Grant and placed both her hands around his.

Grant conveyed an ‘I told you so’ look and then all expression dropped from his face. He felt the blood form a ball and shoot straight to his gut when he saw Jonas step on to the stage.

“Okay, I’m back,” Jonas announced. “We can go outside, let me grab a guitar.”

“Chip,” Haley called him. “Can you come here?”

Grant couldn’t blink, he couldn’t move. Every bit of his insides trembled, and his mind repeated over and over, ‘Look at me. See me. Know me. Please.’

Jonas trotted down from the stage and across the altar to join them.

“Chip, this is Grant Truett,” Haley introduced him.

“Nice to meet you, Sir.” Jonas extended his hand.

Grant felt like he was frozen in a surreal moment, stuck somewhere in a dream, shaking his son’s hand in what seemed like slow motion. Looking into his eyes.

His stomach flipped a little with the slight disappointment Jonas didn’t know him. But it was brief, because he was astonished when he looked at Jonas.

Was he the same guy? What happened to him?

He had a couple scars on his face, tiny ones, but his face was fuller and had color. No longer was his hair long, it was short and looked clean. The biggest thing of all … was the way Jonas smiled. He smiled widely and genuinely.

“Nice … nice to meet you, too.” Grant felt Marge squeeze his hand for support and he also felt Joe put a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Truett is in town for a spell,” Haley said. “He’s not sure for how long. He wanted to see the church.”

“Cool,” Jonas said. “Everyone finds a home