She texted a short response back. Her phone pinged with another message and she showed it to Nate.Mom didn’t tell you?!
“Aunt Susie didn’t tell you what?” Nate said after he read the message.
“No idea.” She typed back a reply. A half a minute later, her phone rang. “Susie’s calling.” She answered and placed the call on speaker. “Susie? What’s going on? Just got a strange text from Shane. Nate’s here by the way.”
“Hi, Nate!” Aunt Susie’s chirpy voice responded. “How you doing, honey? Dating anyone right now?”
Nate rolled his eyes, his mom laughed. “Hey, so what’s going on, sis? Just got a text from Shane.”
“Oh—” Susie made apshhsound. “He’s all worked up over nothing. I’m having a little procedure. That’s all.”
Nate and his mom both leaned closer to the phone on the island. “What kind of procedure?”
“Just an elective-ish one. It’s going to be fine.”
“Elective-ish?” Nate said. “What does that mean?”
“Yeah, sis. Details. What exactly is this procedure?”
Aunt Susie sighed. “My cardiologist noticed a little something a while back. Not a big deal. She’s been keeping her eye on it.”
“And now all of a sudden she wants to do a procedure on it?” Nate asked.
“Well... I’ve been having a couple of dizzy spells lately. Nothing serious. But we thought we better take care of it before it becomes serious. Trust me, they do this type of procedure all the time. They said the mortality rate is pretty low.”
“Mortality rate!” his mom screamed. “Susie, what kind of heart procedure is this? Are they placing a stent like they did on Uncle Bob?”
“Yeah. Kind of like that. Only they’re not placing a stent. More like fixing a valve. And they won’t be going through a vessel. More like my sternum.”
Nate and his mom stared at each other for two beats. Then his mom picked up the phone and yelled, “Susie, are you having open-heart surgery?”
“Yeah. That’s more like what they’re calling it. And I’m having it this Friday.”
McKenna double-checked that she had everything. Purse. Phone. ID. Wallet. Camera. Keys. Carry-on. Yep, that should be everything. She was only planning to be gone a night or two, so it wasn’t like she needed to pack a whole lot. She didn’t even know why she was bringing her camera along, except that she brought her camera along everywhere, so why not?
She gave the house one last quick walk-through. Bobbi’s room looked like it’d been pillaged by rioting villagers on the hunt for a beast. So... like usual.
McKenna’s bedroom further down the hallway looked like it had been staged by a Realtor trying to make a sale. So... like usual.
Same for Momma J’s master bedroom. Probably because other than the occasional guest, nobody used that room. But once Bobbi and Oliver married, McKenna assumed they’d settle into that room since it was by far the largest. And also because from the time she was ten years old, Bobbi had been stating at least once a month how she wanted to live in this house forever.
Which is why McKenna had budgeted hardcore and worked her fingers to the bone hoarding every penny she made the past dozenyears to keep this white storybook house tucked on the end of a quiet cul-de-sac within their possession. Hadn’t always been the simplest task, especially while paying for all of Bobbi’s extracurriculars, then supporting her through college and grad school.
But all McKenna’s efforts had been worth it. She now hummed with excitement knowing she could leave Bobbi this house as a wedding present once she and Oliver got married. Should help ease the sting about moving away. Oliver obviously wouldn’t care about McKenna leaving, but Bobbi... Well, Bobbi would care.
McKenna closed the front door, locked it, and spun, needing to focus on getting to the hotel for her early-morning flight tomorrow before she got ahead of herself with marriage and houses and future plans.
Shoot. She should’ve watered the potted flowers on her porch steps. Ah, well. She’d be back in a day or two. They could survive. Maybe. She picked off a dead bud from the geraniums as movement approached from the shadows. Her carry-on fumbled to the bottom steps when she recognized the frail, thin figure walking toward her in the early twilight. “Mr. Sullivan? What are you doing here?”
“More people die in vehicle crashes than plane crashes, McKenna. Did you know that?” He bent to grab the rolled-up morning newspaper that she hadn’t brought inside yet. “Just read the obituaries.”
McKenna tossed the paper by the front door and reached for her carry-on. “I’m a very safe driver.”
“I’d still feel better if I was the one who drove you to the hotel tonight. At least then I’d know you had a chance of making it onto the plane tomorrow before you crashed and blew up. Are you absolutely certain you have to find that ring?”
As if on cue, her phone started playing the song “Sisters” fromWhite Christmasas Bobbi’s name popped up on the screen. “I am. My sister is counting on me.” Even if her sister had no idea. McKenna gave Mr. Sullivan’s thin hand another gentle squeeze. “I need to go. But don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
Side note—probably shouldn’t make promises to anxious bosses either.
