my daughter, I’ll do whatever she’ll let me do. And if that’s to make my famous taco cheese and macaroni casserole, then so be it.”
“What about Mom? Dad’s busy with the harvest. Maybe I should run home first and see how she is. Make sure she isn’t alone.”
“One of your sisters is with her—Kirby, I think. I called from the shop before I came here.”
Karen felt the sun on her face, the wind tangling her hair and the disquiet in her heart. So many responsibilities pulled at her, but she could feel her grandmother’s love. Because they were standing in a cemetery with both life and death all around, she nodded, unable to say the words.
There was never enough time on this earth to spend with loved ones. It was a truth she couldn’t ignore, not after losing Allison. Time was passing even as she let Gramma lead her toward the parking lot where their cars waited in the shade.
“Do you need me to stop by the store and pick up anything?” Karen asked as she opened her car door.
“I already did. No grass grows under these feet,” Gramma answered, her blue eyes alight with many emotions.
Karen’s throat tightened, and she climbed into the driver’s seat. Even with the windows rolled down to let in the temperate breezes, she could still smell the scents of mechanic’s grease and Old Spice, evidence of the man who’d sat behind this wheel only hours ago.
A rumble of a powerful engine drew her attention. In her rearview mirror she caught sight of Zach’s blue-and-white tow truck rolling up the driveway.
She turned the key in the ignition and gave the gas pedal a few good pumps, and the engine started and died. Started and died. Started and coughed to life. Gramma was parked at the edge of the lot, patiently waiting.
Karen put her car in gear and pulled around, having only enough time to wave to Zach as he rumbled into one of many empty parking spots. He lifted a hand in return. The tips of yellow blossoms waved above the dash, and she sped away, somehow touched beyond words.
She knew without asking that he’d brought flowers for her sister’s grave.
“Is this why you asked me over?” Karen turned to her grandmother the minute she stepped foot inside the kitchen door. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken up Mom and Dad’s cause?”
“What cause, dear?” Gramma set her purse and keys on the nearby counter.
“Trying to show me how wrong I am to call off my wedding.” Trying to control her anger, Karen pointed at the sunny picture window. Over the top of the short cedar fence, she could see Jay mowing his mother’s lawn next door. “I’m not going to be pressured about this.”
“I’m not trying to pressure you.” Gramma circled around the polished oak table and headed for the refrigerator.
“No, but silence speaks volumes.” Karen turned her back on the window. She wouldn’t let the guilt in. “You think I’m going to forgive him and marry him anyway, just like Mom does. Like everyone does.”
“I respect your choice, either way.” Gramma set two cans of diet cola on the counter. “Of course, Jay is awfully handsome. He’s dependable and easy on the eyes.”
“He doesn’t love me, Gramma.”
“Then why on earth did he propose to you?”
Karen didn’t answer. She couldn’t admit the truth. If Allison were alive, she would have been able to confide in her, but who else would understand?
Karen watched as her grandmother calmly scooped ice into two glasses. She worked methodically, easily, content with the silence. Tall and slim, she looked comfortable in her usual flowered dress and low, sensible shoes.
“Sit down.” With a clink Gramma set the glasses on the round oak table and looked through her glasses perched on her nose. “Tell me all about it.”
“About what?”
“What’s taken away my favorite granddaughter’s smile.”
“I don’t want to talk about Jay.” Karen pulled out a chair and settled onto the cushioned seat. “Or how I’m looking thirty in the face and don’t have any better prospects.”
“Fine. Then we won’t talk about Jay.” Gramma took a sip of soda, understanding alight in her eyes. “Most of my friends have great-grandchildren by now. Nora was one of the last holdouts. Then her granddaughter married Matthew and got those triplet boys. I don’t suppose I’m going to be that lucky.”
“Don’t count on it. I see where you’re going with this. You’re trying to get me to talk about my breakup with Jay.”
“Not at all. I’m just sharing some of my troubles with you for a change. At my last Ladies’ Aid meeting, Lois had new pictures of her adorable great-granddaughter.”
“You’re feeling left out. Is that it?”
“Yes, but you don’t look very sorry for me.”
“Sure I am. I’m hiding it deep inside.”
Gramma’s eyes twinkled, full of trouble. “If you went ahead and married Jay, then in a year or so I’d have my own great-grandbaby to show off. I’ve got to keep up with my friends.”
“I see. It’s a status thing. Like having a new car or the right house?”
“Exactly.”
Karen ran a finger through the condensation on the outside of her glass. “Jay has one semester left at seminary, and then he wants me to sell the coffee shop.”
“Why is that?”
“He needs me to help him with his career. A pastor’s wife belongs at her husband’s side, he told me. Then he asked how much equity I had in the building.”
“I see.” Gramma nodded sagely. “You and Allison opened that shop together. It would be hard to sell just for the money.”
“I got angry and so did he. He said some harsh things—” She took a deep breath. “He told me the real reason he wanted to marry me. Because I was someone he could count on. I work hard, I know how to run a business and I’m comfortable, like an old friend. He needs someone dependable to help him with his career.”
“I see.” Gramma lowered her glass to the polished table. Ice cubes clinked in the silence between them. “Those words must have been hard to hear from the man you loved.”
“I was in love with him.”
“Not anymore?”
“How can it be love, if he doesn’t love me back?” Anguish filled her. “Everyone tells me I’m wrong. I should be lucky to have a man like Jay who wants to marry me. He’s going to go far, and he’ll be a good husband.”
“They don’t know the real story, do they? You haven’t told this to anyone but me.”
“Not even Mom.” Karen let out a shaky sigh. She’d never
