Page 4 of Your Soul to Keep

“Positive.” She winked. “I won’t die tonight.”

I knew my lines and recited them with ease. “Tomorrow would be better?”

She grinned. “Infinitely.”

Marlena and Rudolpho walked in just as I grabbed my car keys. Reaching out a hand to clasp my shoulder, Rudolpho gruffly offered, “Take your time. We’ll be here until you get back.”

“Even if it’s in the morning,” Marlena teased.

Hanging his coat on the hook, he winced and grumbled, “Lena, I watched her grow up. She’s like a second daughter to me.”

“And you don’t think our daughter likes to get some?” Marlena handed him a plate of brownies and let her coat fall down her arms.

I caught it and hung it on the hook beside her husband’s.

“Dammit, woman, why do you have to say these things?” Pulling the saran wrap off the top, Rudolpho marched away.

Nan’s thin voice drifted down the stairs. “Don’t you eat my brownies, Rudy!”

“I’ll save you a bite,” he barked as he took the stairs, his long legs eating them up two at a time.

Marlena laughed and winked at me as she held up a sealed container. “I’ll leave these two in the fridge for you.” Her face sobered and she touched my cheek. “Have a good night.”

Guilt, anxiety, and yearning gnawed at my stomach. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

Opening her arms, she drew me in for a brief embrace. “It’s necessary.”

I hung on longer than I should have, closing my eyes and leaning into her warmth. “I’m so afraid something will happen if I’m gone.”

“Sweetheart, it’s going to happen whether you worry or not. You can’t live in the what if.” She rubbed a slow circle over my back. “We have to take each moment as it comes and live in it.” Releasing me, she prodded me toward the door. “Go. As your Nan says, we all have our own stories to live. I’ll lock up.”

The hour drive to Sage Ridge was not yet routine, but it was getting easier. Since Harley came into Ayana’s with Daire, she had pulled me back into the fold. Seeing her after all that time triggered all the memories, both bitter and sweet, that I had buried with my dad.

I drove past my old house, picturing my dad on the front porch.

On Main Street, I saw Quinn furiously peddling her bike in front of mine, trying to get home before the streetlights came on.

When I passed Hugh’s Hardware, I remembered the pup tent Dad bought for Quinn and me to have sleepovers in the backyard.

Everywhere else, I sawhim.

The bridge we used to sneak over to Carousel Island after hours?

Him.

The signpost pointing to Hailey’s Falls?

Him.

The Beanery?

Him.

Everywhere I looked, I saw him.

Yet, there was no sign of him anywhere.

And I didn’t want to ask.

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