The Homecoming: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 5 Read Online Free PDF

in the corner of the room, sound asleep.
         Linda crept quietly to the bed, where Sara was sitting, propped up by two pillows. Even in the dim light of the night light, Linda could see the tracks of her tears.
         She held Sara and asked, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
         Had it been anyone else, Sara likely would have kept her feelings to herself. But she and Linda had bonded from the beginning. And since Joyce’s death, they’d leaned on each other even more. Linda had told Sara a few nights before that she couldn’t love her more if she were her own daughter.
         “You mean, as opposed to the ditzy blonde your son dragged home like a stray puppy?”
         She’d said it with a smile, and Linda had responded, “Oh, honey, you are blonde, yes. And you can be a little ditzy. But you’re way cuter than a puppy, and you don’t pee on the couch. Not much, anyway.”
         They were comfortable enough now to share their hopes, their dreams, their regrets.
         And the little things that make a young mother sob softly in the night.
         “Oh, Mom, I don’t want to bother you with my silliness.”
         “That’s what moms are for, dear. You’ll find out soon, when Chris starts bringing you his problems. Most of them will be nothing but unfounded fears. But to him you’ll be the problem solver, the one who fixes things for him. And no matter how petty they appear to be to you, remember that to him they are monumental, and he’s trusting you to fix them for him. It’s just one of the many things to being a mom that they don’t tell you about when you go to the Department of Moms to apply for your Mom License. But it’s also one of those things that’ll give you great joy every time his little face lights up because you’ve freed him from his troubles.”
         “It won’t be so easy for you to free me from my troubles. I’m in a quandary, I’m afraid.”
         At that moment little Chris started to stir.
         “Hold that thought,” Linda whispered. She took Sara by the hand and helped her out of bed and into her housecoat.
         The pair tip-toed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind them. Sara carried the portable receiver of the baby monitor out with her, turned it on, and snapped it onto the waistband of her pajamas.
         As they passed the security desk, Linda kissed her son on the top of his head.
         “Jordan, honey, I know you’re working overtime, but Sara and I have something we’re in the middle of. Would you be a dear and man the station a few more minutes?”
         “No, Mom. I don’t mind, as long as the thing you’re in the middle of involves making chocolate chip cookies.”
         Sara rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, brother.”
         Linda said, “Chocolate chip cookies?”
         “Yes. With pecans.”
         “Well, I’ll tell you what. You work the station for another hour and I’ll bake a batch later this afternoon. Deal?”
         “Deal.”
         They went to the kitchen and poured themselves each a cup of coffee. Then they sat facing each other in the breakfast nook.
         “You know, you spoil that boy rotten.”
         “Oh, listen to you. I’ve seen the way you wait on him hand and foot.”
         “Well, he’s my husband. I’m supposed to do that.”
         “Well, he’s my son. I’ve always done it.”
         “Listen at us. I wonder if he realizes how lucky he is.”
         “Probably not. But seriously, you’ll spoil Chris too, as well as whatever other little ones come along later. You won’t be able to help yourself. It’s a mom thing.”
         Linda reached up and brushed aside a strand of hair from Sara’s face.
         “Now then. Enough about cookies and spoiling and yucky old boys. What’s with the tears?”
         “You’ll think I’m nuts.”
         “I already think you’re nuts. So you have