At this moment, she recognized that same hand. If she hadn’t spent that time behind a lens, learning techniques for lighting and shadow, she wouldn’t have the skill she needed today. God was good.
A customer approached the counter, her arms full. Valerie stepped out of the way. She smiled at Charlotte and gave a small wave.
Charlotte winked. “Mrs. Tilley, have you seen these organic doggie treats? They’re the perfect gift for Zippy.”
Valerie’s cheeks warmed with a combination of humble embarrassment and joy. Charlotte had a gift to sell products. She couldn’t have trusted anyone better with her first business venture.
Once on the street, she paused to adjust her wrap that had slipped open in the store. Her phone rang, and she answered. “Hey, Uncle. How’s the party coming along?”
“It’s doin’ fantastic, darlin’. Your auntie wants me to ask how the dogs are holding up without her.”
Valerie smiled and started walking as she talked. It was unlikely that Auntie had asked him to call. Uncle was just as invested in the pooches as her aunt. “They miss her terribly–you too–but are putting up with me.”
“Sounds ‘bout right.” He said things in short clips, turning them into one or two syllables instead of the seven it would take an average person. “Listen, little darlin’, I was talkin’ with a gentleman this morning who is putin’ together a fundraising concert in Nashville for Valentine’s Day. They’re raising money for the children’s hospital. It’s somethin’ your mamma sang at when she was alive, bless her soul. Did it every year.”
Valerie slowed her steps. “I remember.” She remembered sitting on the side of the stage and swaying as her mother’s alto filled the Grand Ole Opry. The red velvet seats filled long before showtime because people were excited to sit close to her mom. “Mamma had a soft spot for the children.”
“Her heart was bigger’n Texas,” Uncle agreed. “I got to thinkin’ that it would be a good opportunity for you to sing in her name, honor her memory and help some sick kids in the process. What do you say?”
Valerie dropped her phone. Her ears rang, and she couldn’t move a muscle. Sing? On stage? She’d come a long way in the healing process, but singing in front of people wasn’t something she could bring herself to do.
A part of her blamed her parents' careers for their early deaths. If they hadn’t been in a time crunch to get from one concert to another… If they hadn’t felt pressured to fly in that small plane…
A shiver raced over her skin, waking her up.
She bent to pick up her phone; it was cold against her fingers, and the screen was dark. It didn’t turn on when she pressed the button. With a sigh, she turned around and headed to the cell phone store she’d seen at the end of the street.
At least the accident bought her some time before she had to give her uncle an answer.
Even as she formed her polite refusal, she couldn’t stop the feeling that her mamma would want her to do this from bubbling up.
“Darn it all, Mamma,” she mumbled.
Because if there was one thing she knew about her mom, it was that she would be standing in the front row, cheering her on–it didn’t matter if she was an angel or not, she’d be there.
Maybe that was why Valerie didn’t sing anymore. She wasn’t sure she could say hello and be able to say goodbye again.
CHAPTERSIX
Bang! Crash!
Ethan jolted out of slumber and stumbled into the kitchen. He bounced off the wall in the hallway and slipped on the rug that didn’t have the non-slip backing his mom had said he should get to go under it.
“Collin–what-er-ya-doin’?” He hadn’t opened his eyes more than a slit, and his world tipped precariously, making him grab onto the wall for support.
“Well, it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your looks,” quipped Pearl.
Ethan’s eyes flew open to find his ex-wife standing in his kitchen, wearing a hot pink apron with black polka dots over her skinny jeans and a tight tee shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a Barbie ponytail. She scraped a pancake onto a plate using a metal spatula that ruined the finish on his best frying pan.
The air soured with the scent of burnt pancakes wafting from the garbage can.
“If only you were crazy-rich. You would be the perfect man.” She laughed at her own joke.
Finding Pearl in his house was jarring at best. She hadn’t stepped foot in here since the day she’d walked out. He glanced down at his bare chest and made an abrupt right turn into the laundry room, where he put on a dirty shirt, inside-out.
“How’d you get inside?” he called through the open door.
“Collin.”
