“Well, maybe it’s time to start.” Carmen set down her fork, and June recognized the look that meant her sister had an idea. “What if you went to stay with Willa for a while? You couldrecover somewhere beautiful, spend time with your daughter and grandchildren.”
“Carmen, I can’t just impose on Willa’s life—” June began to argue.
“Who says it would be imposing? When was the last time you spent more than five days or a long weekend with them?” Carmen’s one brow arched questioningly.
June felt a familiar stab of guilt. Between her demanding career and the geographical distance, she saw Willa and the children far less than she wanted to. Phone calls and holiday visits weren’t the same as being part of their daily lives.
“Besides,” Carmen continued, “we were already planning to go to Sandpiper Shores next month for the anniversary.”
The anniversary. June’s chest tightened as she thought about what that meant for Willa. Ten years since Shaun had died in that terrible fire, along with three other firefighters. Every year, the town where her daughter lived, Sandpiper Shores, held a memorial service at Ember Lake, where the tragedy had occurred. June and Carmen made sure they went there every year. Her heart always broke as she watched her daughter’s carefully controlled composure during the community’s honoring of their fallen heroes.
“You could go early,” Carmen suggested. “Stay for a few months. I know how much you love that small town.”
“What about you?” June turned the tables on her sister. “You need a vacation just as much as I do. In fact, I’d say you need it more.”
“I can’t leave right away anyway,” Carmen explained. “I need to find coverage for the bakery, and I promised to work a few more shifts at the fire department until they get fully staffed again.”
Before June could respond, her phone rang. Willa’s name appeared on the screen, and June felt the familiar flutter of maternal concern that seemed to activate whenever her daughter called.
“Hi, sweetheart,” June answered, putting the phone on speaker so Carmen could hear.
“Hi, Mom. How are you feeling today?” Willa’s voice carried the warm concern that always made June’s heart swell. Even as an adult, even living her own life hundreds of miles away, Willa still checked on her mother with the dedication of a worried daughter.
“Better every day,” June said, which was mostly true. “How are you? How are the kids?”
“We’re all good. Grace is excited about starting her senior year, Andy’s building some kind of robot in the garage, and Becky is convinced she’s going to train every stray animal in Sandpiper Shores.” Willa’s laugh was light, but June could hear the undercurrent of something else in her voice. Stress, maybe, or exhaustion.
“Speaking of Sandpiper Shores,” Willa continued, “I was wondering… Would you like to come stay with us for a while? I know you’re stuck at home recovering, and I thought maybe a change of scenery might be nice.”
June met Carmen’s eyes across the kitchen table. Her sister wore a look of guilt, and suddenly June felt like she was in the middle of an intervention.
“I don’t want to be a burden…” June began.
“Mom, stop. You could never be a burden. The kids would love to spend more time with their grandmother, and honestly?” Willa’s voice softened. “I could use the company. Especially with the anniversary coming up and the kids on summer vacation.”
June’s heart clenched. She’d been so focused on her own recovery that she hadn’t fully considered what this time of year meant for Willa. The annual memorial service was always difficult, but the ten-year anniversary would be especially hard.
“Are you sure?” June asked. “I mean, I’d love to come, but I don’t want to disrupt your routine or get in the kids’ way of their summer vacation.”
“Mom, I’m sure. Please come. We have plenty of room, and it’ll be good for you to get away from the city for a while,” Willa insisted.
June looked around her kitchen, at the empty chair where Trevor used to sit reading the morning paper, at the too-quiet house that felt more like a museum than a home. The idea of waking up to the sound of her grandchildren’s voices, of being useful and needed instead of just sitting around healing, was suddenly overwhelmingly appealing.
“When were you thinking?” June asked.
“Whenever you’re ready. This weekend? Next week? I can drive down and get you, or send Ace to fetch you in his light aircraft?”
“I can drive down,” June said slowly, trying to quell the sudden fear that spurted through her at the idea of being behind a car wheel again. Something she hadn’t done since the accident.
Carmen reached across the table and squeezed her hand, approval shining in her eyes.
“Really?” Willa’s voice brightened perceptibly. “Oh, Mom, that’s wonderful. The kids are going to be so excited.”
As June listened to her daughter’s excitement, she felt something loosening in her chest that had been tight for weeks. Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe what she needed wasn’t to get back to work as quickly as possible, but to remember what she was working for in the first place.
“I’ll make all the arrangements and be there in five days,” June said, meeting Carmen’s eyes. Her sister nodded approvingly. “I just need to schedule a few follow-up appointments at the hospital to check how my stomach is healing.”
“That’s perfect, Mom!” Willa’s voice bubbled with excitement. “And don’t worry about the medical stuff. Dr. Tanner here is wonderful. She can handle any follow-up care you need. Is Aunt Carmen there with you?”
