Page 14 of Steadfast

Maeve took a seat at the dining room table.

Grabbing a bag of chips off the kitchen counter, Oakleigh plopped down at the table next to her. She pulled the top of the bag open with a satisfying pop. Plucking out a single chip, she crunched it in half with her teeth.

“Want one?” She pushed the open bag to Maeve, who respectfully declined.

“You know what would make my followers go wild? A puppy! We need a ranch dog, Maeve.” Oakleigh popped another chip in her mouth as she made light small talk. “We could even let them decide the name. It would be trending for sure. It might even be the biggest vote of the whole year.”

Maeve sat back and crossed her arms as she considered. “I’m just not sure yet.” The truth was, Abel always picked the dogs around the ranch, and lately, it felt as though his imprint was fading more every day.

She quickly changed the subject to the recent conflict brewing within Oakleigh. “Where’s Mia tonight?”

Oakleigh shrugged, “She knocked out early I guess, all that stress of commercial travel.”

Maeve paused to gauge whether Oakleigh was joking, she really wasn’t sure. “Everything okay with you guys?”

“I don’t know,” Oakleigh answered distractedly, crunching into another chip. “Someinfluencerposted a weird video this morning, and it’s throwing me off.”

“You know better than to put stock in all that, right?” Even as she said it, she knew she was probably giving Oakleigh a little too much credit in that regard. She held on to hope that the young woman was growing past the constant need for validation from her followers and fellow influencers that resided solely behind her screen.

“That’s the thing, Maeve,” Oakleigh said. The pent up thoughts had started rolling, and there was no holding back now. “Mia was with mymomlast week.”

Maeve let out a short exhale. It had been some time since Oakleigh had brought up Harper, but Maeve knew better than anyone that the lack of closure from broken relationships often erupted back to the surface.

“You’re sure?”She asked, feeling skeptical about anything promoted on social media.

Oakleigh nodded as she pulled out her phone. She scrolled until she found the screen grab of the picture.

Maeve picked up her reading glasses, which she had recently noticed an annoying need for. She slipped them on, took the phone from Oakleigh’s hands, and examined the image closely. Even though many years and multiple cosmetic procedures separated Maeve from the women in the picture, she could clearly recognize Harper alongside her lifelong best friend, Delia.

Sure enough, Mia was walking alongside them both.

There was a time when seeing the ones who had played a role in her own personal tragedy would have brought on a wave of painful grief. Long talks with Ruth, time with the Lord, and the buffer of decades between them had softened the hard feelings she had once felt toward her sister.

“Delia and Harper have been friends for a long time, Oakleigh. They were practically attached at the hip when we were kids,” she said, hoping to offer her a deeper perspective as she returned her phone. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I guess you would know Delia,” Oakleigh said, with a touch of surprise in her tone, “I didn’t think about that.”

Honoring the hurt radiating from Oakleigh’s expression, she reached over and gently squeezed the young woman’s hand.

“I wasn’t ready for Mia to just show up like this practically unannounced,” Oakleigh said, crossing her arms with a calloused look edging into her gaze. “We hardly have anything in common anymore, and she’s probably just going to get in the way.”

Maeve attempted to stifle the amusement that threatened to escape at Oakleigh’s expense. “I guess I’m just getting used to people showing up on my doorstep.”

At that moment, Maeve had a brilliant spark of an idea. She pushed her chair out from the table and went to the foyer. Grabbing the white binder off the shelf, she returned with it in her hands.

“Maybe this is something you two can work on?” Maeve’s eyebrows raised as she gave a weak, desperate smile. “I need help.”

“What is this?” Oakleigh asked as she flipped open the cover. Her eyes brightened as they connected with the seemingly innumerable options presented there.

“All I see is white, white, and more white,” Maeve admitted, throwing her finger in the air as she remembered. “Oh! And beige.”

Oakleigh scoffed at Maeve’s lack of knowledge. “It’s not justwhite, Maeve. It’sWinter Cotton,Alabaster Lace—”The tone of Oakleigh’s voice rose with excitement.“Swiss Coffee.”

“That one sounds interesting,” Maeve commented, picking up her mug and taking a sip of her coffee, which was now ice cold. “You two just figure that out so we can move White Bridge Community Church out of the shop, for your sanity and mine.”

“Maeve, I’m going to be so good at this!” Oakleigh clutched the binder to her chest.

Maeve gave her a wink. “I had a hunch you would be.”

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