Page 127 of Eight Years Gone

Bea was easily in her midseventies with more than a few wrinkles lining her pretty face. Barely five foot two and plump with friendly brown eyes, her once black hair was now silver and tied back in a bun.

“Don’t worry, honey. You’ve had a long drive. Come on in and sit down at the table. Let’s get you warmed up with some tea.”

Grace followed Bea into the entryway, handing over the fall flowers she’d brought. “These are from me and Aunt Maggie.”

Bea took them with a smile. “Aren’t they just lovely? I see you added lilies. You know they’re my favorite.” She brought one of the white blooms to her nose, breathing deeply. “I’ll put these in some water if you’ll pour us both a nice hot cup.”

Grace took off her coat, hanging it in the closet, struggling with a shiver, even when she wore a sweater and jeans. The day had turned out to be overcast and raw when the meteorologist had called for partly sunny skies. “Sure thing.”

Bea headed to the kitchen in the cozy open-concept space, adding water and then the flowers to a crystal vase. “I’m just so happy we could do this today. What a nice surprise.”

Grace moved to the table, pouring them tea from the pretty china pot where a gorgeous fall salad already waited. “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at Dad’s funeral.”

Bea nodded with sorrow in her eyes as she brought two bowls of soup covered in croutons and melty cheese to set in front of them. “It was a tough day. Sit down, sweetie. Be comfortable.”

Grace sat, waiting for Bea to settle.

“Now tell me how you’ve been.”

Grace shrugged. “I’m all right. Mostly, I’m finding myself looking for answers.”

Bea nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. Your father’s passing was very unexpected—very tragic. He came by to take me out for dinner a couple of months ago.”

Grace picked up her cup, holding it in her chilly hands. “He did?”

Bea nodded again. “Your dad often checked up on me. He always took great care of me. When you went on your way and I retired, he bought me this house. He set me up with a generous monthly income for the remainder of my days.”

Grace smiled. “I know he loved you very much.”

“That he did.” Bea added a splash of milk to her cup. “He’d been about to head off to the new clinic in Africa. That was certainly a big passion of his.”

Grace swallowed because she’d had no idea. “I didn’t realize that was something he’d been interested in.”

“Oh, very much so. He’d mentioned that he planned to head over regularly to offer his expertise. There’s a lot of need over in that part of the world.”

Grace sighed. “Yes, there is.”

“I know you two had your troubles, but I also know he was very proud of you.”

Grace hoped that was true. “He and I left things on such bad terms. I regret that I’ll never be able to tell him how sorry I am.”

“He had his regrets, honey. He told me once that your mom would have been so disappointed in him. She’d left him two happy, thriving, wonderful kids and he’d messed everything up.”

Grace set down her cup, stirring her tea, struggling with a new wave of sadness. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything at all. Your father was a good man, but he also had his flaws—just like the rest of us. We all have moments we wish we could do over or take back. I hope someday you’ll be able to remember some of your better days together. I know he loved showing off your work in that magazine you freelance for.”

Grace blinked, surprised again. “He subscribed to Travel?”

Bea nodded. “He brought over a copy when he was here, gushing over your pictures.”

Grace found herself smiling, liking the idea. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.”

They both sipped their tea before Grace set her cup down. “How are you doing?”

“My health is good for an old lady. Jeremy and his family are doing well. But I’m certainly grieving. Steve and you kids were such a big part of my life. And Rose, of course.”

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