At the mention of that name, it felt like a hole opened up in the bottom of her stomach.She struggled to find her voice.“Oh?”she asked, trying to sound casual.
Mae inclined her head.“He lives up in the hills near the winery and golf course.Runs a finish carpentry business out of his property.”
Her feelings about that, and him, were all jumbled together in a confusing mess.The last time she’d seen him and Rafe was at Carson’s funeral four years ago.And out of respect she wouldneverbring that day up in front of Mae.
But that was before the tragedy in Syria two years ago had cast a permanent shadow over her family.Her life.
“Is he...better?”she asked, curious and feeling slightly guilty for not knowing the answer.
“In some ways.Others, no.I doubt you’ll see much of him though.He doesn’t come into town that often, prefers his own company and to stay up island.Just thought I should warn you so it’s not a shock if you bump into each other.”
“Yeah, thanks.”She’d known coming back here would be a challenge emotionally.But finding out Tripp was here added another layer of conflict she hadn’t expected to have to confront.
“Of course.”Mae closed the bottom drawer and stood, her knees cracking.“Anything else, or should we tackle your art supplies next?Get your studio set up.”
“I love that idea.”And the abrupt shift in topic wasn’t a coincidence.She knew Mae had suggested it to redirect her thoughts to a happier task.
Two hours later her car was empty, almost everything was put away and organized, and the empty boxes had been folded flat in a pile on the porch for her to take over to the recycling depot.“You’re a lifesaver, Mae.This would’ve taken me all day by myself.”
“You’re welcome, honey.Oh, I put some things in the fridge and pantry for you.Just a few essentials so you don’t have to go into town for a day or two if you don’t feel like it.”
Willow sighed and pulled her into a hug.“You’re the most wonderful human.”
Mae patted her back.“No, that was your darling angel of a grandmother.We were neighbors and friends for fifty-two years.I never dreamed I’d have another one I’d love half as much, but now here you are.I’m really glad you’ve come back where you belong.”
“Don’t make me cry, Mae.I just got here.”
Mae chuckled and grabbed another empty box on her way to the door.She was the definition of a workhorse.“I’m gonna go home and get some chores done.Dinner’s at six.Don’t bring anything but you.I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to for the past four years.”
She was out the door before Willow could even form a reply.The invitation was more of a summons, but it was classic Mae.And there was zero chance Willow would pass up one of Mae’s fabulous home-cooked dinners, summons or not.
She automatically locked the door behind Mae, feeling strange because nobody around here did that still, and turned around to survey her new home.The memories filling her head were bittersweet but not unwelcome, and her grandmother had left the house to her for a reason.Willow wouldn’t put it past her to have sensed that she’d needed to start over, and that coming back here might allow her to heal.
In her bedroom, she opened the final box she’d left on the bed.Books, toiletries, and some personal items, including a few framed photos.One of her family together here the summer she’d turned sixteen.Another of her and Peyton at his army grad.Him in his dress uniform and her in a red dress, arms across each other’s shoulders, huge grins on their faces.
Neither of them had a care in the world back then.No clue that his life would one day be cut tragically short in a Syrian desert.
She carefully set it beside the other on her bedside table.And finally, the lid on her emotions cracked open.
A rush of hot tears stung her eyes.
She bent her head, let the sobs break free in the privacy of her childhood bedroom.Surrounded by ghosts while desperately hoping that on the other side of all this pain and loss, a brighter path lay ahead.
