Dad laughed off her concern. “We’re better than okay. We’re headed off on a second honeymoon tour. Didn’t your mother tell you?”
“Umm. No.” Maggie bit her thumbnail.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I would have remembered termites and a second honeymoon.” Sheesh. She wasn’t that busy. And she’d had a convo with her mother not three days ago … or was it five?
“I’m sure she would’ve called on the way to the airport. We’ve been really busy getting everything ready.”
“I totally understand.” Hadn’t she just handed the same line to her agent? At least she knew where she got her ability to be busy from—both her parents.Oneof them could have texted. Maggie always sent a text with the name of the city and the hotel she was staying at just in case.
“Is that Maggie?” her mother said in the background.
“Yeah.”
There was a scuffle, and then suddenly Mom’s voice was strong on the line. “Maggie? Sweetie, things are nuts around here. You wouldn’t believe the chaos termites can cause.”
“I can imagine.”
“They ate through my table leg. That’s how we found them. The whole thing went kerplop in the middle of breakfast.”
“That’s horrible.”
The attendant announced the last group. Maggie stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. She might as well head out to Moose Creek for her appearance on the morning show. Then she’d double down on finding a place to rent so she could focus on the book. It wouldn’t take that long … would it?
“Well, we’re off tomorrow. The second honeymoon. Which is about time, because our first one was not that great,” said Mom.
Maggie laughed. Dad had thought camping was the ideal honeymoon. He hadn’t counted on his new wife never having stayed the night in the woods before. Mom had been scared out of her mind at every hoot and rustle.
“I’m sure glad you called. I’ve been so frazzled, my to-do lists have to-do lists. Are you at your next stop?” asked Mom. “Can you text me the info so I can find it? I’ll never remember.”
Mom was never stressed. Mom was the one with a fresh batch of cookies in one hand and a Band-Aid in the other when the world fell apart around her.
“I’m boarding the plane now. I’ll text you the info. And I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
“Thanks, sweetie. We’re making the best of it.”
They chatted for a few more minutes about the damage to the sofa before hanging up. Maggie rushed to get on the plane, the last person to walk down the middle aisle. She groaned, thinking that there wouldn’t be any room left in the overhead bins for her carry-on, but there was one bin open at the back of the plane. When she finally got to her seat in the middle, the balding man next to her glared as if she were the reason they hadn’t taken off yet. Right. Because the pilot didn’t have a preflight checklist to go through.
She ducked her head and opened the Kindle app on her iPhone so she could ignore the silent seething next to her.
As the plane took off, she contemplated her mother’s attitude about having her world turned upside down—or being eaten away from the inside out. Most people would be overwhelmed, but Mom turned it into an excuse for a vacation. Why couldn’t Maggie do the same thing? Being in the kitchen was her calling in life, though she’d spent more time over the last six months in front of the camera than in front of the stove. Sammy’s call was a reality check—that was all. He was right. She needed to set her priorities in place, and doing what she loved should be at the top.
Now all she had to do was find a place to call home. How hard could it be to rent an apartment for a month?
Chapter 3
“Hello, Preacher. Thanks for seeing me.” Cash walked into the small church office and shook Seth Powell’s outstretched hand.
The church had gone through a revival period over the last year—headed up by the man behind the desk and his sweet wife, Evie, who was currently tutoring a group of kids in the kitchen. Her after-school homework program for teens was one of the most popular in the state. Cash would bet a thousand bucks it had a lot to do with the fresh-baked goodies that flowed from the oven during the meetings.
Cash might not look like the kind of guy who went to church, but this was the place he felt closest to Jesus. The preacher mixed modern Christian songs with his sermons and shared God’s love with one and all. On Sundays, the pews were a patchwork of people. Silver-haired women in fancy hats and bikers mixed with young families, broken families, and singles alike.
A beat-up guitar rested against the wall, and near it was a baby swing. Inside, rocking away while he slept, was Gabriel, the preacher’s son. He was a chubby-cheeked baby with thick lashes and a head full of hair. Seeing the little tyke stirred a longing in Cash’s chest. He might not have had the best father in the world, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to try his hand at it one day.
“You sounded frazzled on the phone. What can I help you with?” Seth prompted.
Right. The man was busy. New family and a church to run. Cash pulled his eyes away from the bundle of joy and settled into the seat across from Seth. “I need your prayers and a little counsel.”
