Her parents.She still missed them, and yet it was becoming harder and harder to remember her childhood with them.She had those memory fragments, little things that stayed with her, but most of it was fading.The one thing that didn’t fade was the day of the accident.That was as clear as if it had happened yesterday.
Ten years old, sitting in a too-bright office, while a stranger in a dark suit explained that there’d been an accident.Ten years old, too shocked to cry, certain there had been a mistake.Ten years old, waiting for her grandmother to arrive and fix everything, because of course Grandma Betty would.
And then, being eleven and twelve and realizing that her grandmother, who tried so hard, couldn’t fix everything.
A lump rose in Cat’s throat.She pressed a fist against her chest, pressing back against the ache.She missed all of them… Mom, Dad, Grandma.She missed how they loved her without question, missed having a home somewhere, missed belonging to someone.But missing didn’t help.It never had.It never would.
She drew a deep breath and forced herself to stand straighter.The world didn’t stop for anyone.It hadn’t stopped for her then, and it wouldn’t now.It was time to begin filling out the job applications.Time to create a new life for her in Michigan, and one day, God willing, it would feel like home again.
*
By the timeRhys pulled into the lane leading to the cottage, darkness had settled thick over the valley.The headlights swept across the low stone walls and the glittering fields beyond.Snow clung to the trees like frost on glass.
Olivia hummed while Rhys parked and then climbed quickly from the passenger seat, carefully carrying the takeout bag.
Cat met them at the door, long hair drawn back in a clip, a wool shawl around her shoulders, and cheeks that looked pink from the fire.
“You’re back,” she said.“How was everything?”
“Good,” Olivia said firmly, nodding her head for emphasis.
“Traffic wasn’t too bad,” Rhys said, deadpan.
“Daddy, there’s no traffic.This isn’t London,” Olivia said, as if trying hard not to be exasperated before handing him the paper bag so she could slip out of her coat.
“That’s right,” he teased.“I forgot.”
“We brought home pudding,” Olivia said, now giving her dad her coat and taking the bag back.“Chocolate fudge cake for Jilly and apple crumble for you, Cat.Is that okay?”
“That sounds so good,” Cat answered.“And crumbles are my favorite.”
Jillian appeared on the stairs.“Did you get anything for me?”she asked, sounding hopeful even as she was prepared to be disappointed.
“Chocolate cake for you,” Olivia said proudly.
“I said no,” Rhys added, “but Olivia insisted.”
Olivia gave her big sister the sweetest smile.“Because you’re my favorite.”
*
Cat ate hercrumble in her room right out of the box with the plastic fork provided.She’d opened her laptop on her bed and sat cross-legged with the laptop propped up on pillows.
The search bar blinked at her, waiting.She hesitated for only a moment before typing into the search bar:Teaching positions Michigan January start.
Dozens of listings appeared—high schools, community colleges, one small university north of Detroit.She scrolled through them, reading through each.
Required: Master’s in history or related field.Check, she had that.
Experience preferred.She had been teaching sessions for the last two years.
Apply immediately.
Cat felt a huge wave of relief.She could do this.She was qualified.She had the degrees—not one master’s but two.She had the discipline.She could definitely support herself.
But the thought of it—of going back to Michigan, knowing virtually no one now, not when all her school friends had moved and married and settled somewhere in their own adult lives—left her cold.
But what were her options?Stay in England and pretend she didn’t have two houses in Michigan to make decisions for?Keep paying the property taxes and insurances when no one lived at either?
