Page 9 of My Mistake To Make

‘You upgraded us?’ I squeak as I follow her onto the plane, and she chuckles.

‘Well, I upgraded you. I was already in Business Class.’

‘Why?’

Doris doesn’t answer as she allows the steward to settle us into our neighboring seats. When we’re alone and seated, she turns her body toward me and smiles.

‘I figured I could spend the next eight or so hours next to a complete stranger, or I could spend it next to my new friend. I love traveling solo, Cara, but it can get a little lonely at times.’

Oh, Doris. This sweet woman.

‘Thank you. This is incredibly kind of you.’

‘Oh, it’s no bother, really. Now, tell me more about what’s next for you. What are you going to do with the house?’

‘Honestly, I really don’t know. I’ll be okay financially for a bit, but I have no idea how much work it’s going to need or what it’ll cost.’

‘And are you planning on staying in town?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve hardly ever even left my wee village, let alone moved my entire life to another country. I’m not sure I’ll be cut out for a life in the States.’

‘Forest Falls is a beautiful little town. I bet you’ll fit right in.’ I snap my gaze to hers. ‘Oops.’

‘You know Forest Falls?’

‘I do, sweetheart. I lived there once upon a time.’ She smiles and my lips part in surprise.

‘Doris, why didn’t you say?’

‘Well, I didn’t want you to drill me for information. You have to figure it all out for yourself, Cara, and I think you know that.’

I nod. I do know that, but still, small bloody world.

‘So, I can’t ask you anything at all?’

‘You can ask, don’t mean I’ll answer.’ She winks, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Now, buckle up and get ready for take-off, and think about what you want to ask. I’ll give you one piece of information, so make sure you ask the right question.’

She sits back in her seat, looking smug, and I consider what she said. What do I really want to know? Until I get there, I can’t really know what my questions are. No point asking about the nearest supermarket or hospital, what the weather is like in June, or if it snows at Christmas. Besides, she doesn’t live there anymore, so her information is probably out of date. Then it hits me,out of date, she used to live there,used to… just like my mum.

‘Did you know my mum, Charlotte Reynolds?’ I ask once we reach altitude and the seatbelt lights turn off. Doris turns to me, gifting me a soft smile, and I know the answer before she voices it.

‘I did, sweetheart. I knew your grandparents and Charlotte. I left town when she was young, thirteen or so, but I did know that she had left town—gossip travels on the wind, you know, and I heard that she passed away. I’m sorry that you lost her, Cara. That was so unfair.’

Tears prick my eyes at the reality that this larger-than-life woman, who I met on a flight from Glasgow, knew my mum. I can’t believe it. I can’t speak. Doris reaches over and takes my hand.

‘The world is a lot smaller than we realize, sweetheart.’ She squeezes my hand. ‘I haven’t lived in Forest Falls for over thirty years, so I can’t claim to know much about the town these days, but I know you’re going to be fine, honey. You’re one of theirs, and they’re going to love you.’

One of theirs. The thought feels strange, like wearing shoes that are too big. They do the job—keep your feet warm and dry, but they’re not quite comfortable, and you keep slipping out of them. One of theirs; in my heart, I hope that’s true. It’s comforting to hope they open their arms to me, but somehow, I’m not sure it will be that simple.

Doris gave me hernumber. She had a layover before her flight to Charleston, so we said goodbye in Chicago with her advice about finding what I’m good at and making it a job and her promise that she would only be a call or a three-hour drive away if I needed her. It was nice to have a friend, albeit one who was older than my dad; beggars can’t be choosers.

Now I’m walking through an airport I don’t know, laden with bags, and looking for a woman I’ve never met. Not to mention, I’m exhausted. I tried so hard to take advantage of the lay-flat seat bed thingies on the flight to Chicago, but I was so nervous, full of all this anxious energy, and so many questions I wanted to ask the sleeping Doris, that every time I closed my eyes, they sprung back open.

‘Cara?’

My heart leaps in my chest as I lay eyes on the woman smiling wide and waving frantically at me.

‘Marissa?’

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