Page 92 of Call It Love

“Can’t wait. And send me a sample of your soap. I need proof of your transformation into a domestic goddess.”

I grinned and glanced at the package in the passenger seat, which I had already put together with her name on it. “Deal.”

The call ended, and the truck cab filled with quiet again. Outside, the mountains rose steadily in the distance, the summer haze softening their edges. I rolled down the window a few inches, letting in a breeze that smelled faintly of cut grass and honeysuckle.

I turned on Market Street and parked in the first space I could find. For a small town, Sterling Mill was always busy. But unlike where I previously lived, it didn’t matter where I parked. Everything was within walking distance.

As I got out of my car, the door to the general store across the street swung open. My mom stepped out, a brown paper bag tucked into the crook of her arm. She paused, adjusting her grip, her eyes scanning the sidewalk before she started toward the old pickup truck parked further down the curb.

I hadn’t seen her in weeks. Not since Chase and I had our first “date.” She looked the same as always—neat, composed, and with an all-too-familiar tension in her shoulders. She nervously smiled as people offered her a friendly greeting as they passed.

I crossed the street quickly. “Mom?”

She startled, then smiled faintly when she saw me. “Anna. Hello. What a lovely surprise once again.”

“Hi.” I glanced at the bag in her arms. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is. Your father had to come into town for something at the hardware store,” she said, smoothing a hand over her purse strap. “I thought I’d pick up a few things while he was inside. Some more material and a couple of books to read.”

I studied her more closely. She looked tired in a way that went beyond merely being busy. It stirred something protective in me. Apparently, part of Chase’s personality had rubbedoff on me.

I gave a small nod, then stepped closer. “You know, you don’t have to wait until he brings you to town. You can come whenever you want. You have a license. A car. You don’t need a reason or a chaperone. You can even come visit me.”

Her mouth tightened just slightly. “It’s just easier when we plan things together.”

I searched her face, wanting to say more but not knowing how to without making her pull away. “I just… I’d love to see you more. You don’t have to stay tucked away on that ridge all the time.”

Her eyes flicked down, then back up. “He just worries.”

“I know he does,” I said, trying to be firm but also encouraging. “But worrying doesn’t mean he gets to decide everything for you.”

There was a pause. Not long. But something in her expression shifted—just barely.

“I read about the barn dance,” she said, glancing down the street as if she were afraid my dad would come out and scold her for wasting time talking, even to me. “There are flyers everywhere. I saw your name as a contact person. You’re organizing it?”

I felt my posture straighten without meaning to. “I am. It’s a fundraiser for the town. Something fun, yet meaningful.”

Her eyes brightened. “That’s wonderful, Anna. Really. I’m proud of you.” Her eyes lingered on me, softening. “You seem…settled. Happy. Like you’ve found what you’ve always been searching for.”

I was pleasantly surprised by her insight. I hoped it stirred something inside her, too. “I have.”

She nodded once, her fingers tightening around the bag. “Well. I should get back to the truck. Your father doesn’t like to wait too long.”

I smiled, though something in my chest ached. “Okay. But if you ever want to come out to Silver Creek, you’d be welcome. Anytime.” I knew I’d made the offer before, but maybe if I repeated it enough, it would stick.

She looked like she might say something else. But in the end, all she offered was a quiet, “I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t much. But it was more than nothing.

I smiled. “Okay.”

She nodded, then turned back toward the truck she and Dad had driven in, her bag crinkling quietly under her arm.

I watched her go, that ache in my chest twisting a little tighter. I wasn’t trying to pull her away from him. I just wanted her to see there was more; that she could still choose something for herself.

I knew you couldn’t wake up one morning and suddenly live differently. Usually, it took a catalyst. Little or big—a thought you have. An opportunity. A hope you stretch for. A situation that changes or becomes too much. It could be scary. But having someone reach out a hand to steady you could make the difference. I wanted to be that for her.

I knew from experience that beginnings could be fragile. They could break. They didn’t always guarantee happy endings.

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