Chapter 1
Hallie
“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
“Mommy! Are we still in Maryville?” Mia shouts from the back seat, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.
I glance back at her, sitting high in her booster seat, eyes wide, taking it all in. She woke up from her car-induced nap when our speed slowed as we entered town.
“No,” I say, smiling at my daughter and then returning my attention to the road in front of me. “We’re in Waterford.”
“It looks the same like Maryville,” Mia says, her face soft with that just-woke-up glow.
I turn down a street that curves into our neighborhood, dipping and rising before the stop sign. I turn left and drive past the staggered houses, separated by driveways and grassy lawns—most of them on lots without any fencing, but a few have low pickets.
Waterford could nearly be a twin to our hometown. Ithought the same thing when I drove through on my first trip here to interview for my position at the fire station. The historic brick buildings downtown and tree-lined streets feel similar, even though the surrounding hills and low mountains aren’t as pronounced as the Smokies.
“This little town’s adorable,” Mom says from her spot in the passenger seat. “And I need to pee somethin’ fierce.”
“Nana, you can sayuse the restroom,” Mia corrects Mom. “It’s more polite.”
Mom tries to keep from laughing, but a snort escapes as she shoots me a look that says,Are you kidding me?
I shrug. Some days it’s as if someone tipped our family structure on its head and our roles started sliding in the opposite direction.
I blow out a breath.
“Okay, Miss Queen of England,” Mom says. “I’ll get you tea and crumpets as soon as I set my hiney on a toilet.”
Mia’s eyes go wide and I stifle a smile.
Mia recovers quickly, though. “You can call me Spike. I’m not the Queen of England. I’m going to be the next queen of baseball.”
“Don’t you know it!” Mom says with a laugh. “And I’m going to be the queen of the Depends!”
We pull up in front of the folk Victorian home we’re renting with an option to buy. The wide porch looks as welcoming as I remember, a fresh coat of light-green paint and the white trim with Queen Anne details giving it the appearance of a cottage or dollhouse.
“This is it!” I say just before the moving van pulls up behind us.
I park across the street, leaving the movers room to take the space in front of the house.
“I hope your plumbing works!” Mom says, hopping out of the car and speed-walking to the front door.
“Keys, please!” Mom shouts when she jiggles the doorknob and finds it locked.
She’s stopped just short of crossing her legs, but she’s still bouncing impatiently.
I tell Mia, “Wait here,” and jog across the street to Mom while the silver-haired man next door watches on from his porch with a wry grin on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Never seen a woman who needs to use the john?” Mom shouts over at him. “We’ve been on the road for two hours straight and my bladder’s as old as I am!”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
“Nice to meet you!” I yell across the long driveway that divides our two properties, practically shoving Mom through the door after I unlock it.
Mom darts down the hallway, scolding me. “Next time I ask for a pit stop, for the love of Dolly Parton, listen to me!”
