“Calista, I gotta go,” I say, my heart beating faster as I pull into the driveway. “I’m here.”
“Okay. Be safe. If there are bad vibes, leave. You can break a promise once in your life.”
“It’s not my promise—it’s my mom’s. My guilt would be much less because of that.”
“See?”
I laugh. “Love you. Bye.”
“Call me?—”
I hang up.She’d go on about this forever.
I park my car next to a small burgundy SUV and turn off the engine. Sun filters through the trees that pepper the property, making it look like a postcard.
As I climb out of the car, Maggie comes rushing down the front steps with a giant smile on her sweet, familiar face. There are a few more lines around her eyes, and her hair has a bit more silver than the last time I saw her—which, come to think of it, was probably ten years ago. Otherwise, she’s the same Maggie.
That’s such a relief.
“There you are,” she says, arms extended. “I’m so glad you made it.”
I let her pull me into a hug and enjoy the warmth of a motherly embrace. “It’s good to see you.”
“You have no idea how good it is to see you, honey.” She releases me. “You look as fit as a fiddle.Look at you. You are as pretty as a peach, Megan Dawn.”
I giggle. “Keep talking like that, and I might not leave.”
She hugs me quickly once more. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. Thank you for coming. We’re relieved that Kennedy will be in your competent hands.”
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried. “Well, I’m happy to be here. I’m not sure how capable these hands are, but I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Just keep her from sneaking out and borrowing her daddy’s truck”—Maggie makes a face—“and we’ll call it a success.”
“Ooh. Okay. I understand where the wholespiritedthing comes from.”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “She hit fourteen, and her sensibilities have gone out the window. Don’t get me wrong. Kennedy’s a good kid. She’s just going through something, I guess.” She grins, shaking a finger at me. “And she better get through it before her daddy drags her through it with her grandma behind her with a broom.”
I laugh.
“This place is gorgeous,” I say, spinning in a circle and taking it all in. “It’s like a postcard from a quaint little bed-and-breakfast.”
She beams. “Let’s go in. I’ll show you around.”
We take a brick pathway to the steps. Solar lights line each side, leading us to the porch. A welcome wreath hangs beside the door.
“I’ve been cleaning all day,” Maggie says, waiting for me to go through the doorway first. “It’s not usually this organized.”
“You didn’t have to clean for me.”
“Honey, it’s the least I can do.”
I’m greeted by the scent of freshly baked bread and the undeniable easiness that onlya homecan deliver. The sensation caresses my frayed nerves.
Hardwood floors extend from the small foyer in every direction. A small, cozy living room with a rock fireplace is beyond an arched doorway on my left. A stack of books sits in the center of a long table through the archway on my right. Stairs rise in front of me, and a hallway stretches beside them, leading to what appears to be a kitchen at the back of the house.
“This is it,” Maggie says, closing the door behind her. “Lonnie and I live just down the road. So if you need something and don’t want to drive to town, feel free to see if we have it. I’ll leave a key with you. Kennedy and Chase each have one too, of course.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”
