Page 51 of In This Moment

“Fine. I’m sure you can hear him snoring all the way down there.”

He laughed, swiping a hand across his face. “And here I thought it was the pet rhinoceros.” When he was a kid, his father had Graham and his siblings convinced a rhinoceros lived in the backyard, and that was the noise they’d heard at night, not Dad snoring.

She laughed, and the sound smacked him with fond memories. “How’s work? Is that new hire panning out?”

Ah, Rebecca. “Actually, I think she saved my ass.”

He took a moment to tell her all the things Rebecca had done and how subscribers had risen as a result.

“Sounds like she’s a keeper.”

“Yeah,” he said through a sigh, absently petting Twain’s ears. In more ways than one, Rebecca was irreplaceable. He’d yet to meet a soul more genuine and honest. “She’s pretty, too. Kind. Funny.” He hadn’t so much as hinted to his mom that he had romantic interest in Rebecca, but now that they were dating, he figured he should.

Except Mom didn’t mutter a sound.

“I’m being careful and she’s not the type to throw me under the bus. We’re keeping work and personal separate.”

“Okay,” she said at length. “You’re a smart guy, Graham. We raised you right. What happened at the newspaper here wasn’t your fault. I’d just hate to give your new boss reasons to fire you.”

“Agreed.” He rubbed his jaw. “It’s weird, but I swear the town is rooting for us as a couple, my boss included.”

Actually, now that he’d said it aloud, it sounded even crazier than in his head.

“My, my. You are living in a Hallmark movie.” She made a sound of amusement. “My folks grew up in a small town like Vallantine. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the concept, but I’m glad you’re fitting in. It sounds like an ideal place.”

Ideal. Definitely the proper term for Vallantine.

“I think we will come down and visit in a couple weeks, after all. It’ll be good to see Forest. I’d like to check out this ideal town of yours and meet your Rebecca.”

His Rebecca. Just a phrase, but the possession behind the meaning should raise his hackles.

It didn’t.

“Okay, Mom.”

Chapter Thirteen

At her kitchen table, Rebecca sat with her knees to her chest, cradling coffee in her hands. Scarlett and Dorothy were still asleep, as it was barely dawn, but Rebecca couldn’t fight slumber any longer. She’d done it half the night.

A pinkish yellow glow floated from the open window, bringing the scents of freshly cut grass and spring blooms. She stared idly at the rays and dust motes, fighting dregs of tightness in her neck and shoulders. One of the worst things to set off her fibromyalgia was lack of sleep.

After they’d gotten home from Backwater, her besties thought it a good idea to bag up Gammy’s clothes for donation. They were currently on the kitchen floor, staring at her. All of her grandmother’s cosmetics and toiletries were tossed in the trash, and certain knickknacks that weren’t Rebecca’s style were put into boxes. That’s as far as they’d gotten, besides discussing redecorating suggestions.

It had to be done. She knew that. It had been her idea. Yet, she couldn’t rid herself of the guilt clawing at her belly or swallow the lump in her throat. Gammy was gone. She wasn’t coming back. People in need could use the clothing donation, and it did no good sitting here. Repainting or shifting things around would make the house more Rebecca’s and less Gammy’s. Which she sorely needed in order to remain here. The contradiction kept eating at her, though.

Footsteps padded from the hallway, so she took a sip of coffee to collect herself.

“She’d want you to move on.” Dorothy stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, and wearing an oversized tee she’d slept in. Messy auburn hair was piled on her head in disarray. Her solemn expression indicated she knew where Rebecca’s thoughts had been directed. “I know it’s hard, but she left you the house for a reason.”

Rebecca choked on a sob, covering her face with her hand. Her chest cavity cracked open, and insipid darkness poured from the gaping hole. Months of remorse and gutting anguish pressed against her skull. The grief was so profound it strangled her. Paralyzing.

Dorothy took the mug from her shaking hands and wrapped Rebecca in a hug from beside the chair. Enveloped her, not as a barrier, but as a crutch, like she’d done countless times in their lives. “Let it out. It’s going to be okay.”

Sometimes, it just didn’t seem like anything would be okay ever again. Chest tight, throat raw, she clutched Dorothy’s arms, body shaking with a torrent of tears.

After long minutes, she stroked Rebecca’s back. “We can wait if it’s too soon. There’s no rush.”

“No.” Rebecca sniffed and straightened, wiping her wet cheeks while blowing out a watery breath. “I can’t hold onto her things as if she’ll come back.” They’d kept many mementos, and the house was a reminder of Gammy’s life. It would be enough. Rebecca couldn’t keep existing in stoic idleness, waiting for something to happen. It was getting to the point where she loathed coming home. “The changes will help to make the place mine, while respecting Gammy.”

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