I'll Always Love You

I'll Always Love You, Chapter 4

Tiffy missed her bed. Being forced to sleep on a futon, and a hard one, at that, was another reason she was up before anyone else in her parents' house. She blinked at the sliver of light that poked through the blinds, and she took in her dark-haired little boy beside her, fast asleep. She realized some of the discomfort she was feeling was because the bed was wet. Her decision to give in and let him wear his big-boy underwear to bed instead of a pull-up had been exactly the wrong choice.

She rolled off the futon, her bare feet hitting the beige carpet, taking in her brother's big-screen TV and PS4, which now filled the room that had once been her bedroom. Tiffy Jean Cahill had always been strong minded, strong willed, and had a somewhat difficult personality, as her mother put it. She kept so much of what she was feeling and doing to herself. Even her brother, a year older than her, didn't have a clue where her head was at, and that was just fine with Tiffy.

She'd made her own bed, as her dad often said. The result could be either an epic failure or something else, depending on the circumstances she'd created, which she often chalked up to What the hell were you thinking? Her decisions were something she didn't share with anyone.

She pulled at her pajama shorts and the T-shirt she'd slept in before pushing her dark hair over her shoulders as she yawned, taking in the clutter of her open suitcase on the floor and the white garbage bag filled with dirty clothes for her and Brandon. She reached for a pull-up from the package tossed on the open suitcase and knelt on the bed. Without waking her little boy, she peeled off his soaked underwear and slipped on the diaper. He stirred and murmured but didn't wake, and for a second she found herself taking in how he was the image of his father more and more every day.

She reached for the plastic bag and tucked in his underwear, knowing she was running out of clean clothes for Brandon. She would have to wait until everyone was awake before she started the washer, considering it was a twenty-year-old model that clanged and rocked and could be heard everywhere in the house. She let out a breath and pulled open the door, then paused in the hallway of the quiet bungalow, seeing her parents' door closed at the end of the hall. Her brother's across the hall was also closed.

She was first up, and she walked in the bathroom and shut the door. She took her time and then washed her hands, taking in the dark circles under her eyes, the tiny imperfections on her face, and her hair, which needed another wash. First, coffee and some quiet so she could figure out everything about her day and remind herself she'd made the right choice in moving back here. Home was home, and Brandon was at an age where she would need help from her family.

She pulled open the bathroom door and stopped in the open doorway, seeing the futon and a sleeping Brandon in what had been her bedroom until she left almost three years earlier. Her brother, she noted, had wasted no time in taking over, and her parents had let him. She just shook her head again, thinking of the single bed she'd once had, a girl's bed, and here she had returned as a woman, a mother.

Tiffy strode barefoot toward the kitchen, the hardwood creaking with each step. She yawned as she took in the living room, which was open to the kitchen, and froze when she saw the male on the sofa, his chest bare. Good God, was it impressive! He had dark hair and a messy five o'clock shadow, and his arm was tossed over his eyes. He was asleep.

Jeremy Friessen...shit!

She looked right and then left, seeing the kitchen, the door, and the hallway that led back to where her little boy was. She took a step backward and somehow bumped the hall table, and she whirled around, reaching for the vase as it tipped. She righted it and held her breath, mentally kicking herself, trying to be so quiet.