Two Weeks (The Baxter Family #5)(2)

To Austin:

It’s hard to believe you’re almost finished your junior year. One more year and you’ll be a graduate! At Liberty people know you as a very bright light. The friend people turn to for a real conversation and a shoulder to cry on. Always at the center of everything fun that brings people together. You are honest and kind and your heart is deeper than the ocean. Your faith has truly become your own and it’s so authentic and central to your life, it sometimes takes my breath. In addition to all that, you are a most wonderful son—always praying for us and making that random FaceTime call when you’re wide awake in your apartment. I love that. You know how to invest in family and that effort always pays off. Our house is brighter when you’re home. Austin, you will always be our miracle boy. Our overcomer. You are the youngest, and no question the hardest to let go. At times the quiet here is so . . . quiet. Even with your dad’s jokes and little Hudson and Nolan running around. Just know that we have cherished every moment of raising you. I’m confident we will see you on the big screen one day soon! God is opening doors and making a way! We are your biggest fans and always here for you. We always will be. Love you forever, Aus.

And to God Almighty, the Author of Life, who has—for now—blessed me with these.





THIS BOOK IS part of the Baxter family collection, but it can be read as a stand-alone novel. Find out more about the Baxter family at the back of this book. Whether you’ve loved the Baxters for a decade, or you’re finding them for the first time—Two Weeks is for you.





1




The cardboard box sat open on Elise Walker’s lumpy twin bed, a note from her mother tucked inside. Three pens, half a dozen No. 2 pencils, two spiral notebooks and a pale blue binder. Under all that an old, worn red scarf. The tag was still on the frayed end. Goodwill. $2.99.

She picked up the note and read it again.

Dear Elise,

You’re only eighteen, and I know you didn’t want to go. But it’s for the best. Randy’s still mad you left. He tells everyone who’ll listen. I think he would’ve hurt you if you’d stayed. Or worse. He’s crazy, that boy. You’re allowed to move on, baby. Even for a little while.

Your Bloomington school starts later this week. The least I could do is get you a few supplies and something to keep you warm. In case it snows. Plus, the scarf suits you.

Fiery red.

Don’t worry about being at a new place. You’re gonna do great, baby. It’s a good high school. Your aunt told me all about it. Nice part of town. Friendly kids. And they have an art club. Maybe you can join. Anyway, it’s just a semester. You can come home this summer.

I miss you, Elise. Call you soon.

Love,

Mom

Elise ran her thumb over the words, her mother’s writing. Why had she treated her mom so badly? Her mother wasn’t exceptionally beautiful or daring or smart. She had never been married. Elise hadn’t ever met the man who was her father. There had been no sign of him since Elise was born.

Still, her mama loved Jesus and she loved Elise. Loved her enough to work two jobs to pay the bills. The truth was, Elise felt treasured. Always.

You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, baby. The best thing that ever happened. Elise could hear her mom’s voice, hear the love in the melody of her words.

Even now. After all the ways Elise had come against her.

A sigh slipped through her lips.

Everything Elise had, her mother had scraped and saved and worked to pay for. So that when Hattie Walker came home each night at six o’clock between jobs she was exhausted. She had to be.

All for Elise.

The two of them had never been apart. Mostly because Elise hadn’t had the chance to leave. In fact, last summer Elise would’ve done anything to get out of Leesville, Louisiana. Because for all the good Elise could say about her mother, the woman was old-fashioned and out of touch. She didn’t understand real life.

Elise moved the cardboard box to the shaggy carpet and flopped down on the bed. Dinner would be ready soon, but she still had a few minutes. A sigh slipped from her lungs and she looked around. The walls were closing in. A million tiny pink roses wallpapered over every inch. Even worse were the heavy green velvet drapes that covered the only window.

As if light were forbidden here. The way it was from Elise’s heart.

A week ago, on her first day in this house, Elise had dragged a clothes hamper to the window to hold back one side of the curtains. She used the desk chair for the other side. When she saw what Elise had done, her aunt had given the setup a wary look. Under her breath she whispered, “This too shall pass.”

Which Elise assumed pretty much summed up how her aunt felt about having her here for the semester. Elise didn’t care. She felt the same way. She was a senior. She would be out of here soon.

It’s going to be a long semester. Elise relaxed into the bed. She didn’t blame her aunt Carol and uncle Ken for not quite embracing the situation. Elise barely knew them, and still they were nice enough to take her in. Their two daughters—Elise’s cousins—had finished college. Successful. Married. Never got in trouble.

They were nothing like Elise.

She looked out the window. Streaks of pink and blue colored the sky. What about her? What was she doing here in Bloomington, Indiana? A million miles from Leesville? This morning she’d overheard her uncle Ken talking low in the kitchen.