Page 2 of Moonlight With Maddox
“That’s the thing,” I smile. “It does. Right here in Maple Ridge.”
2
Leni
I’ve only just ended my call with Frank when a loud crash shatters the quiet in the house.
“Aunt Connie!” I toss my cell on the bed and sprint down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” she calls out to me, though her voice is tight with a strain that makes my stomach clench.
“You are not fine,” I say as I round the corner into the tiny kitchen, taking in the shattered remains of a glass mixing bowl on the aged linoleum.
“Leni,”
“Don’t move.” I hold up my hands to stop her from taking any steps onto the glass shards.
“Melanie Grace, I am not a child,” she huffs.
“I never said you were,” I squat down and start picking up the larger shards. “But youareinjured.”
She absently rubs the sling cradling her broken arm, her face nearly unreadable. But I don’t miss the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. The accident shook her more than she’ll admit. Out here, tucked just beyond the edge of town, it was just lucky herneighbor happened to stop by after she slipped. I can’t even allow myself to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t.
I shake the dark thought away and straighten. “I hardly get a chance to come home. It’s my turn to take care of you for once.”
“You’ve already done so much.” She sighs. “I know that you rearranged everything to be here.”
I toss the large pieces of glass into the nearby trash can and wipe the glass dust off my hands. “If the tables were turned and I was the one who got hurt, wouldn’t you have dropped everything to be with me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Exactly.” I lean down and kiss her cheek, catching the warm scent of her cinnamon perfume. “There is your answer.”
She sits down at the tiny kitchen table I spent all of my childhood eating breakfast at every morning.
“I have to admit,” she says. “It’s been so wonderful having you home again.”
“Yeah, it’s been too long,” I say, sweeping up the remains of glass into a dustpan.
She watches me quietly for a moment. “I know you love your adventures, seeing the world, collecting stamps in your passport, but there’s a kind of beauty you only find by coming home.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “It’s funny you mention that.”
I tell her about the Fall Americana pitch I gave Frank, describing the way the town’s festival can be shared with so many more people through my photos.
“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.”
“I think so too.” Excitement buzzes in my veins in a way I haven’t felt about my work in longer than I’d like to admit. “I think people crave that kind of thing. Not everyone can fly halfway around the world, but anyone can hop in a car and discover a place that feels timeless.”
“I think it will do you good, as well. You haven’t been to the festival in years. Even if you will probably only see most of it behind your camera lens.” She chuckles.
She’s the reason I even picked up a camera in the first place. Back in high school, I was floundering. I was more comfortable in the library than at the Friday afternoon pep rally. When she heard the school newspaper needed a photographer, she signed me up without asking me first. I’d been furious at the time. But looking through the lens gave me focus, and friends, and eventually, a career. The only thing it hasn’t given me is a husband, despite Aunt Connie’s relentless matchmaking attempts.
“I’m good to head into town and check out the festival whenever you’re ready,” I say as I wash my hands in the farmhouse sink.
Aunt Connie’s eyes take on a mischievous twinkle when I look back over my shoulder at her.
“I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight.” She pats her sling. “This arm says it’s time for a rest. But I’m sure Maddox would be happy to take you.”
