Every single guy that worked for me was either an ex-con or an otherwise at-risk individual. I was the captain of the second-chance crew and I couldn’t be happier about it. I wanted all the guys I took under my wing to know that there was life after a major mistake, that making the most of a second chance was the only way to get ahead, and I wanted them all to see how important something like home really could be. I also wanted to give guys the opportunity that they might not get anywhere else to learn a tangible skill they could take with them wherever they ended up in life. There had been a failure or two along the way since I started recruiting the unrecruitable, but for the most part the guys were overly grateful for having honest work in an environment that wasn’t about judging the sins of the past.

I didn’t bother knocking on the metal storm door since the front door was open and I could hear the infectious sound of childish laughter floating from somewhere inside the house. It was the weekend, which meant plenty of family time. We usually all got together on Sundays for either brunch or dinner depending on my work schedule, but Beryl always swung by on the weekends and spent a couple hours catching up with Mom and letting Joss play with the neighborhood kids that made up her circle of friends.

I prowled through the empty house and followed the sounds of laughing and screeching to the backyard. I could see my mom’s dark head bent toward my sister’s as they talked quietly about something while a group of kids including my adorable niece played tag. A grin tugged at my mouth as I tiptoed my way through the kitchen and dining room until I reached the sliding glass door that led to the concrete patio they were sitting on.

Joss caught sight of me and I saw her lift her arm up to wave at me, but I shook my head and put a finger to my lips, indicating she should keep quiet while I crept up on her mom and grandmother. My boots squeaked on the laminate floor that Mom refused to let me rip up and replace, but the noise wasn’t loud enough to draw attention. Joss giggled as she watched my approach, and when I got to the glass of the doors I gripped the metal handle and yanked it open while shouting “BOO!”

I chuckled uncontrollably as the glass in Beryl’s hand went flying and as my mom leaped out of her chair like it was on fire. She spun on me and smacked me playfully in the center of my chest. I rubbed the spot playfully as she scowled up at me.

“Zebulon Fuller! Are you trying to give an old woman a heart attack?”

My mom was far from old. In fact she looked good and young enough that if it wasn’t for the few wrinkles around her eyes she could easily pass for my older sister instead of my parent, so I didn’t bother replying to that nonsense. Instead, I grunted and bent down to scoop Joss up as she ran at me. I wrapped an arm around her as she grabbed on to the end of my beard and pulled. It was something she did every time she saw me and it always made me smile. I gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and made sure to rub my whiskers on her face as she giggled.

“Uncle Zeb, stop!” She wiggled until I put her down and dashed back to play with her friends.

I sighed dramatically and walked over to take one of the remaining seats at the patio set across from my sister. “How quickly I’m forgotten.”

Beryl was still frowning at me and wiping her damp fingers off on her jeans. “She’s almost eleven. Just wait until she’s a teenager and the boys she’s running to hug are the ones she wants to date.”

I let out a low growl at that and jerked when something freezing and slippery suddenly slipped down the back of my T-shirt. I leaned forward in the chair and practically pulled my shirt off over my head in order to fish out the ice cube Beryl had just dropped down the collar.

“You suck.”

“You’re the one that made me spill my drink. Jerk.”

We glared at each other for a second until my mom snorted and had us both turning to look at her.

“I kept waiting for the day when you two won’t argue like you did when you were little, but at this point I don’t think I’ll live long enough to see it. Zeb, it’s Saturday, why aren’t you working?”

I contemplated tossing the dripping piece of ice back at Beryl but instead dropped it back on the ground. I stroked a hand down my beard and looked at both of them solemnly.

“I’m in the middle of a situation and I needed to ask a friend for some help with it, so I took the day off. I also need to tell you guys what’s going on. It’s a conversation we need to have in person.”

My mom put a hand to her mouth and I saw it shake a little. Beryl’s eyes sharpened and she reached out a hand to put on my tense shoulder.

“Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I cringed involuntarily and shifted my gaze to the kids playing in the yard. “Some kind of trouble, I just don’t know what kind yet.”

“What happened?” Beryl kept her voice low and I could see worry filling my mom’s eyes. They were the exact same color as my own so I knew by the way they darkened that she was already expecting the worst and that made my heart squeeze and my breath lock up in my lungs. That was exactly the reaction I was dreading. I was back to having her look past me and seeing only the things I was capable of. I was used to being judged, but it hurt a little more when it came from someone you loved unquestioningly.

“A girl showed up at my jobsite this week and gave me some news that flipped my world upside down.”

Beryl’s fingers curled into my shoulder. “What happened to the lawyer you were all hung up on? The one you worked yourself to death trying to impress by building her your dream home?”

I shook my head slowly and bent to put my elbows on my knees so I could hold my head in my hands. She knew me too well. Sure the house was Sayer’s vision and her ultimate dream, but the work I put into her Victorian, the way I agonized and labored over every part of the remodel, meant I left a part of myself in the structure. Sayer’s home was my dream home and she didn’t even know it.

“This isn’t about some girl, Beryl . . . well, it is but not like that. Sayer is actually the friend I went to see to ask for help. She’s a family attorney . . . which I may need because there is a good chance I might have a family.”

“What?!” The whispered exclamation came from my mother followed by a whole slew of surprised curse words from my sister.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and sighed again. “Like I said, this girl showed up on my jobsite and dropped a bomb. She was pretty shaken but managed to tell me that her friend that had recently passed away identified me as the father of her child. A child that is currently on his way into foster care.”