Rebecca met Granny’s eyes, tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. Sighed instead.
“I loved it, too. And you—Granny, I loved being here with you, too. I hope you know that.”
“Ah, girl, I know it.” The light tone was gone now. Silence fell, heavy as night.
To think she’d almost let it all go. Given up. Guilt swirled—for Sarah finding her, for Granny dropping everything and coming to her. Rescuing her. Tears pricked.
“Granny … thanks.” Her words came out in a tumble, and she swallowed thickly. “For letting me come here, for getting on that plane with me this morning, for making me leave all that mess behind—”
“Sweet girl, I’d do it a thousand times over.”
She would. Rebecca knew that without question. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was sleep.
A moment passed, then another. Granny motioned to the staircase.
“Why don’t you take your bags up to your old room and get settled. I’ll see what’s in the icebox for supper.”
“You’re sure? I can come right back down and help.”
Granny waved a hand like she was shooing a fly. “I have so many premade suppers I’m swimming in them. Go on.” She waved again. “Get settled and I’ll get things started.”
Shouldering her handbag, Rebecca started up the stairs with her first suitcase. Her legs felt like lead—no, rubber—as she pictured the bed in the guestroom at the end of the hall, imaginedherself rolled up in the soft summertime quilt. Alone and still.
She stopped after a few steps, gazing up at the embroidered scriptures above. “Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near—Isaiah 55:6,” read one. At the landing, she read another: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go—Joshua 1:9.”
For as long as Rebecca had remembered, Granny’s faith had been a cornerstone of her life—and, judging from the décor, a tangible part of this house. Even when Gramps had died after a short battle with cancer, Granny had seemed to wear her faith like a suit of armor.
Years later, Rebecca still marveled at her strength—the same kind of strength and determination she’d shown propelling Rebecca to Dahlia, from lining up job prospects to booking their flight. Granny liked to call it gumption, and Rebecca knew her dad, Granny’s only son, had it too. It served him well in the courtroom and even stronger behind the scenes, working the system, climbing the ladder.
Her parents thought her coming to Dahlia and taking the newspaper job was a good idea. Sarah and Marisol thought so, too. After all, Granny seemed to have it all worked out. In no time, she’d lined up a tenant for Rebecca’s apartment and, perhaps most remarkably, the job in Dahlia. It turned out the former editor of theDahlia Weeklyhad stepped down due to heart issues, and the local newspaper needed someone pronto. Granny called it a “God thing,” pulled a few strings, and lined up a phone interview.
Rebecca just called it coincidence. But she’d aced the interview, and with a glowing recommendation from her former boss—Ed owed her that much, after all his broken promises—and a portfolio of award-winning articles to her name, not to mention a willingness to work for the ridiculouslylow salary they offered, Rebecca had the job.
It was almost too easy. Scary-easy.
“Take it, work your magic, and enjoy this time with your Granny,” Sarah had told her in the hospital room as they were waiting for Rebecca to be discharged, her blue eyes sympathetic. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but after everything … well.”
“Yeah. I know.” After everything, indeed.
“We’ll get you back to normal soon. This will open doors. It has to.”
As she reached the top step, Rebecca had the sinking feeling nothing would ever be quite normal again. Her stomach churned, and she shook her head, steeled her jaw.
Swallowing hard, she headed down the hall to her room.
???
The next morning, she woke in a tangle of bed sheets, one sock on, the other who knew where. She lay still a moment, listening to the steady tick of the clock, which felt off-kilter with her own heartbeat. The smell of bacon and coffee had her pulling on a robe, padding downstairs.
Granny was nowhere in sight.
A note beside the coffeemaker caught her eye.
Louise drove me to church for the knitting circle. Bacon and eggs warming in the oven, keys are on the hook. Can’t wait to hear what you think of theDahlia Weekly. Love you. Granny
Rebecca clenched her stomach, her chest tight and itchy beneath the light cotton. Today was meet-the-staff-day, always awkward anywhere, but especially here, where she barely knew the dialect, let alone what to wear. She pictured her closet full of suits and wrap-dresses, the labels that used to mean so much. Somehow she doubted they’d matter one bit here. Granny was letting her borrowthe Buick. Car shopping would come later in the week, after she had a day or two to get her bearings. All she needed to do now was muster the get-up-and-go.
Except she had no get-up or go.
