“You’re really going to do this?”
Sitting at the kitchen table that afternoon, a bowl full of string beans between them, Granny’s mouth was open as she heard the whole plan from Rebecca.
Rebecca smiled at her, surprised at the peace she felt. Here she was, risking almost every penny she’d invested since she’d landed her first job, and money was the last thing on her mind. Instead, she was just hopeful she was good enough to do the job right.
“Granny, I am! And I’ve never been so excited in my life.”
Granny shook her head, two bright spots of color on her cheeks as she broke into a grin.
“Girl, I’m—I’m thrilled to death. I don’t know what to say. These last few months, with you here in the house, have meant more to me than you could ever have imagined.”
“It’s meant a great deal to me, too, Granny. In fact, it’s hit me that I’ve spent my entire life chasing a dream when I think maybe I had it all right here in Dahlia, all along.”
Granny’s grin widened, and she gripped Rebecca’s hand now.
“Your Gramps would be so proud. To think our baby girl is going to be part-owner of our town newspaper! You know, he was on the team that hired Ron Stone, back in the heyday.”
“I had no idea!”
“Back then, the paper was run by a volunteer board that reported to the town council. Only later did it become a for-profit operation.”
“So the town’s been involved from the start?”
“Honey, it was the town that started the paper to begin with—a conglomerate of the council, the Chamber, and the churches that all teamed up to grant the initial subsidy. In the fifties, the Rotary Club played a big role in its support.”
Rebecca nodded, a slow flutter filling her chest. “So they’d have an interest in funding things to keep it going.”
Granny grinned. “That’d be grant money well-spent, if you ask me.”
CHAPTER 44
Devon
A week later, Devon and Miss Becca pulled up at the Baptist church in her little gray car. The day was sunny, a pretty August morning. School started back next Monday, and looking around the town, he thought it hardly seemed like there’d even been a storm. Gone were the fallen trees and the mess of branches and clutter on the roadside. The town looked new. A fresh start.
Just like he was getting.
Miss Becca parked the car, sat a moment, her shoulders still.
He leaned forward, put his good hand on her arm. “You’re nervous?”
She ducked her head like she was embarrassed. “Very.” She tossed him a look over the car seat. “Thanks for coming with me this morning. Are you sure you feel up to it?”
“Honestly, I’m fine.”
He was. He still had the cast and a few scratches, and the bruises would take a while to heal, but he felt like a new person. Today, he and Rev and Marla were going to see Memaw in the retirement home. That man Miss Becca knew, Mr. Erik, with the extra-tan skin and extra-extra white teeth, had worked out some reallyneat deal. He’d heard her and Mr. Josh talking it over with Rev and Marla, didn’t know what everything meant, but from what he gathered, Memaw was getting to live in some super-fantastic place, so fantastic she didn’t mind one bit leaving the house she and his PawPaw had bought all those years ago.
They could even keep the house, which Memaw was putting in something she called “a trust” for him till he turned eighteen. They lined up some renters, who were supposed to move in next week.
Memaw’d hugged him at the hospital, right before his release, told him just ’cause he wasn’t living under her roof anymore didn’t mean she wasn’t his Memaw.
“You best still come visit me,” she’d said, elbowing him. “Robinsons stick together. Even across the miles.”
“I promise, Memaw.”
Memaw had gotten quiet then, peered at him hard.
“You know, sweet boy, what happened that night. It wasn’t your fault.”
