“There’s pure maple syrup for those hotcakes.” Bea’s extra-wide grin had a nervous edge to it.
Guilt broke through her numbness. Obviously, her presence upset Bea, even though she was trying to hide it under Southern hospitality and rich cooking. Riley cut into the eggs, both scrambled and sunny side.
She’d made plans to stay with Harper tonight, and Harper had also agreed to take her to the airport. Funny that out of the group of three friends, Riley had formed a bond with the one who couldn’t be more opposite from her. But since the first time they met, Harper was the one to reach out to her. They had clicked somehow, and while she liked Anita and Olivia, too, she would miss Harper the most. She also knew Harper would probably ask her a million questions, but she would handle them when they came. Right now she needed to focus on eating enough food to make Bea happy.
“Remember, honey, today’s the day I have lunch with Pastor Jared and the men’s ministry,” Billy said, already half finished with his meal fit for two.
“Oh good, because I have plans for lunch too.” Bea poured syrup on her hotcakes. “I’ve already got a ham cooking in the oven.”
Riley blanched. “Harper’s picking me up at eleven,” she said. “I’m staying with her tonight.”
Bea set the syrup on the table with careful, slow motions. “I see.”
“But I appreciate you letting me stay last night and the wonderful meals.”
Bea nodded, but she still wasn’t looking at Riley. Instead, she was slowly cutting her hotcakes into tiny pieces.
“When I get back to New York, I can send you some money for the food and lodging,” Riley said.
“Uh-oh.” Billy wiped his mouth with his napkin. “That’s my cue to leave.” He got up and kissed Bea again. “Go easy on her, dear.”
Riley looked at Billy, then at Bea. Her stomach sank at the sight of Bea’s red face and narrowed eyes. After Billy left, she said, “Bea, I—”
“Now you listen to me, young lady. First of all, I take offense that you think I would accept a single penny from you for keeping you here and feeding you. Do you think Erma paid me when you stayed over all those times?”
“I—”
“No, she did not. And secondly”—she held up two plump fingers—“you are part of my lunch plans today. Call Harper and reschedule.”
“But . . .” Riley didn’t have the strength to argue with her. Besides, Bea kept her attention on her food and didn’t spare a glance for Riley, even when she finished her meal and got up from the table. “Can I help with the dishes?” Riley asked meekly.
“No.”
Riley shot up from the chair and went to brush her teeth in the spare bathroom, which was next to the spare bedroom down the hallway. She ran her fingers through her hair, then sighed as she peered at her reflection in the mirror. She looked nearly as bad as Tracey, minus the almost emaciated frame and missing teeth. But the dark circles beneath her eyes and her pale complexion revealed that all was not well within her. And it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
She holed up in the guest bedroom, not wanting to risk Bea’s wrath, for the rest of the morning. Harper had been fine with picking her up later that day. All Riley had to do was kill a couple of hours, have lunch with Bea, and then head back with Harper. By tomorrow evening she would be back in New York, where she belonged.
It wasn’t long before she grew bored, and she pulled the sketchbook out of her duffel bag. She quickly moved past her drawings of the shop, ignoring the pang in her chest, and the renderings of what would have been her first piece of original art for Knots and Tangles.
Then she landed on Hayden’s portrait. It was almost finished, and he’d even posed for her, in a joking way, one time. She touched the corner of the page, ready to rip it out. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The drawing wasn’t a masterpiece, but the subject was as close as anyone could get to being one. Riley felt a tightness in her chest, and she slammed the book shut, shoving it back into her bag. She spent the rest of the time playing pointless games on her phone until Bea called her into the kitchen.
When she entered, she had expected the expansive meal taking up almost every inch of table space—and Bea didn’t have a small table. What she had not expected was Peg, Madge, Viola, Myrtle, and Gwen sitting around it, all with their arms across their chests as if they had choreographed the position. Their furious expressions could burn a block of ice. Behind them were Harper, Anita, and Olivia, who appeared just as upset.
She froze. She was in big trouble now.
Chapter 17
“Sit down, Riley Jean.”
Riley nodded at Myrtle’s command and sat in the lone empty chair on the other side of the table from the women. She folded her hands in her lap, unable to bring herself to look at any of the Bosom Buddies.
Bea started to get up. “Let me get you some tea—”
Gwen put her hand on Bea’s forearm and shook her head. Bea remained in her chair.
Finding her steel, Riley lifted her chin. “I guess Mimi called you all and blabbed everything. Say what you have to say, and I’ll move on.”
“You will move on when we tell you to, young lady.” Madge’s razor-sharp tone could’ve sliced through diamonds. “And for your information, Erma didn’t call any of us.”
“I called her.” Bea fidgeted with the butter knife next to her plate. “I knew something had to be seriously wrong for you to want to stay here. But she refused to talk to me. That’s when I called everyone else.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Riley stared at them. Her friends hadn’t said a word, but they were still watching her with a mix of incredulity and betrayal. Riley hoped she came across as cool on the outside, because inside she was a shaky mess.
“How can you treat your grandmother this way?” Viola burst into tears. “She’s the sweetest, kindest, most loving, most sacrificing, saintly person I know.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick,” Peg whispered.
It wasn’t empty flattery to Riley. Her grandmother was all those things, despite the hurt and anger coursing through her.
“You’re breaking her heart.” Viola sniffed. “After everything she’s done for you.”
“I never said I was staying here permanently.” Riley hated the tremor in her voice, but she couldn’t stop it. “She always knew I was going back to New York.”
Harper’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know that.”
“Me either,” Anita added, her eyes growing wide.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Olivia said, holding out her palms.
Riley couldn’t face any of them right now. She was the one who was hurt, but they were making her feel like the bad guy.
“We saw Tracey at church yesterday,” Myrtle said. “We know she’s a part of what happened between you and Erma.”
Riley glanced away. “I’m not gonna talk about her.” For some unknown reason she again slipped into the Southern accent she’d tried so hard to get rid of when she moved east.
“That’s good, because we’re not discussing her either. She’s done enough damage to you and Erma over the years.” Gwen’s words were strong, but her tone held compassion. “And I’m sorry about that.”
“Me too,” the BBs all said in unison.
“It doesn’t matter,” Riley said. “The past is the past.”
“If that’s the case, then why aren’t you leaving it there?”
Riley glowered at Peg, who had removed her bright-red-framed glasses. Riley could see tears in her eyes too.
“Why are you punishing your grandmother?” Bea moaned.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t her fault,” Viola mumbled. “I’m sure Tracey boxed her into it. She’s always made trouble for Erma, even though Erma always tried her best.”
“Shh,” the BBs chastised.
“Right. No Tracey talk.”
The ever-present shame Riley tried to keep at a distance her entire life was filling her once again. Suddenly she burst into sobs
—deep, soul-crushing sobs, as every bit of her inner strength left her.
“Oh, honey.” Bea got up and put her arms around Riley, who in turn wrapped her arms around Bea’s thick waist. “It’s all gonna be okay.”
Riley barely heard her as she cried oceans of tears that had been trapped inside far too long. Painful memories surfaced, things she had witnessed in childhood and never told anyone. The horrible things Tracey would say to her when she was drunk or high. The times she wondered if she’d ever eat again. The prayers she’d said over and over that Mimi, or anyone, would take her away from her mother forever—and the guilt she felt every time she’d uttered that prayer.
Soon all the BBs were crowding around her. One stroked her hair. Another patted her back. Yet another grasped the fingers of one of her hands on the back of Bea’s waist. Myrtle cooed that they were there for her and Mimi, that they wouldn’t let Tracey hurt them again. The love she had craved for so long from her mother, but never received, was being poured into her by these lively Southern ladies, and Riley suddenly realized that they were her family too. She saw her own buddies, all three of them, standing behind Erma’s friends, nodding in agreement.
When she didn’t have a tear left to shed, she lifted her head. “Can I have a tissue?”
“Of course, honey.” Peg snatched a napkin off the table. “Use this.”
Riley blew her nose as they all returned to their seats. She knew she needed to apologize, but all she could say was, “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Riley.” Bea smiled, her double chin quaking. “We’re here for you.”
“And Erma,” Madge added.
“We’re here for both of you,” Harper said. “You need to remember that.”
She looked at each of the women as she gripped the napkin, now damp from her tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “All of you are right.” Then she realized the full extent of what she’d done to her grandmother and wanted to crawl into a hole. “I hurt Mimi, and I shouldn’t have.”
They all nodded, and then Myrtle said, “You know what you need to do, then.”
“Yes.” Riley said, starting to get up from the table. “I have to talk to her.”
“You should have a bite to eat first,” Bea said.
“Bea!” all the Bosom Buddies said in unison.
Riley held Bea’s hand. “Thank you, but this can’t wait.”
“I’ll drive you over,” Myrtle said, rising from her chair.
“I’ll drive her,” Harper said.
“We’ll go with you.” Anita grabbed her purse off the one vacant space on Bea’s counter and put the short double strap on her arm. Olivia also stood.
Riley nodded, overwhelmed with emotions she’d never felt before, but that her soul desperately needed.
“I’ll get my stuff.” Before she left the kitchen, she paused, looking at each woman in front of her, old and young. “I love you all,” she said, her voice thick.
They all smiled. “We love you too.”
* * *
Although she was defying her doctor’s orders by not resting and elevating her leg, Erma continued pacing back and forth in the living room. She hadn’t slept a wink last night, and even though she knew Riley was safe and well taken care of at Bea’s, it didn’t ease her mind. Despite Riley’s upbringing and her habit of separating herself from others to keep from getting hurt, she had never been rebellious. In fact, Erma had never had a bit of trouble from her, other than the typical teenage pouting and moodiness, a welcome respite from the difficulties she and Gus experienced raising Tracey. She’d hoped Riley would find her place in Maple Falls, but she couldn’t blame her that she hadn’t. Some obstacles were too difficult to overcome, and she had to acknowledge that she was a part of them. If she had been honest with Riley to begin with, they might not be in this situation now.
Erma pressed her hand to her heart. Her ticker was fine, but the pain she felt in her chest was almost too much to bear. Riley had the right to be angry, considering what Tracey had put her through, and Erma only knew about a few things. She was sure her granddaughter had witnessed and endured many awful things that she hadn’t said a word about, not even to the counselor Erma had taken her to when she first started living with her. When Riley turned fourteen and said she didn’t want to see the counselor, Erma had acquiesced. Over the years she questioned that decision, along with so many others.
Her leg was on the verge of giving out and she finally sat down. Her thoughts raced. Would she ever see Riley again? Had she committed an unpardonable sin? Perhaps she had. But she couldn’t change that now, just as she couldn’t change Tracey. Riley was an adult. Erma had to respect her decision, and part of that respect was not chasing her down and begging her to come back.
She closed her eyes, nearly breathless from the ache in her heart. How could she go on without Riley?
A knock sounded at the door, but Erma ignored it. She knew it had to be Bea. Or possibly the whole BB group. She didn’t want to see them right now. At some point she would apologize to Bea for being rude last night, but not now. The only person she wanted to see was Riley.
The front door opened, and Erma steeled herself for the onslaught of her friends, who always meant well. Instead, Riley walked through the door, her duffel bag over her shoulder.
Erma jumped up from the chair, hiding the shooting pain in her leg. She wanted to run and take her granddaughter in her arms, but she held her ground.
“Hi,” she said softly.
Riley stayed in the shadows of the alcove. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Erma wished she’d grabbed her cane to hold on to, because she could feel herself starting to sway.
Riley walked into the living room but kept her distance from Erma. “I’m sorry, Mimi,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”
Relief flooded Erma, nearly knocking her over. “It’s all right, sugar,” she said. “I understand why you did.”
“But I don’t.” She set her duffel bag on the floor, walked over to Erma, and hugged her. “I don’t understand anything anymore.”
“Oh, sugar.” Erma held her tight. “That’s my fault.” It would be easy to lay all the blame at her daughter’s feet, but she couldn’t do that. “I should have done things differently.” She smoothed back Riley’s mussed hair. “I should have told you the truth about everything. I should have let you know Tracey was adopted. I never should have listened to that lawyer. I should have held my ground and taken you out of Tracey’s care years before I did. I was a lot stronger when your Poppy was alive.”
“You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“Not strong enough. Not then.” She reached for Riley’s hand. “I’ll answer any questions you have, but I need to tell you everything first.” She explained the circumstances around adopting Tracey, the difficulty she and Gus had raising her, and then about the money. “Tracey was right about one thing. The money I gave her was hers. Your Poppy had always been frugal, and I was never one to need very much in the way of material things. Not only had he left me well taken care of, but he’d also put aside a good amount for Tracey.
“I kept that money from her for years, thinking I would give it to her when she was well enough to handle it. When you were thirteen, I thought that day had arrived. She had gotten sober, remember?”
Riley nodded. “It didn’t last long.”
“No, it didn’t. But when she was off the booze, I told her about her inheritance. Shortly after, she stopped by with you.” Erma took a breath. “There wasn’t a deal. If there hadn’t been any money involved, I would have told her the same thing—she wasn’t welcome to come back here. Not until she straightened herself out for good. I’ve stuck to that promise to this day.” She gripped Riley’s hand. “As you can see, she still hasn’t done that, even after all these years. I’m not sure if she ever will, and it breaks my heart. I still love her, despite everything.”
Riley nodded, her eyes filling with understanding. “I can’t
believe I’m saying this, but I do too. Chalk that up as another thing I don’t understand.”
Erma stood on tiptoes and kissed Riley’s cheek. “You might not be my blood kin, Riley, but you are my granddaughter. You are my real family. Don’t ever, ever doubt that.” She wiped away the tears that had spilled down her darling girl’s cheek. “We have a lot to work through, you and I. Eventually I’m sure we can figure it all out.”
Riley clasped Erma’s hand with her own. “Together.” She touched her forehead to Erma’s.
“Together.”
* * *
On Tuesday afternoon, Hayden was still in the back office of Price’s Hardware. He’d spent yesterday and most of today going through all the paperwork, procedures, and anything else he could find to keep himself occupied so he didn’t have to deal with customers. Fortunately he had the excuse of wanting to go over every single thing in his father’s desk and filing cabinets. He would have done it anyway eventually. Right now he just couldn’t fake enthusiasm about nuts or bolts or paint or anything else—inside the store or out.
His father and mother must have sensed something was wrong, because both had expressed concern about his mood since he’d returned home Sunday afternoon. When he snapped at them that he was fine, they kept their distance. He wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not them.
He tried to focus on the stack of paperwork in front of him, but all he could see was Riley’s face, and all he could do was kick himself for being such a jerk. So much for earning her trust. For being patient. For not pushing. He’d even argued with himself for falling for someone who clearly had a lot of stuff in her past. Pot, meet kettle.
Hayden sat back in the creaky, green office chair that had seen better days and sighed, then leaned forward and pounded his fist on the desk in frustration.
“Yep. You’re fine all right.”
Hayden turned and looked at his father, who was standing in the doorway. “Sorry,” he said, then started nonchalantly shuffling the papers as if he hadn’t used the desk as a punching bag.
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