One More Summer
Page 28
“And if I hadn’t loved Michelle and if Robert Elliot hadn’t been such a bastard.”
“Remember the ‘hidden paths’ Jonah and Maxie had in their marriage ceremony?” she said. “I think all of life’s going to be that way. The paths will be curvy and maze-like sometimes, and even if you walk them two-by-two, there will be other people on the walk with you.”
“You’re probably right.” He held her gaze. “But do you want to stay on that two-by-two walk with me? I’m talking a lifetime here. No time-outs for good or bad behavior. If I have to concentrate on being your brother’s best friend for a while, you have to come with me. If Faith needs you more than I do, I’m coming along.” He looked around the room. “We come out of the attic together.”
“I’d like that more than anything.” The expression in her eyes reminded him that he only needed to be with her to find sunlight. “And I do love you too much to live without you.”
He kissed her, tasting the tangy sweetness he loved, smelling the soapy scent that was hers alone, feeling the softness of her straight up and down body in his arms. Not only sunlight, but a piece of heaven too. He lifted his head to smile at her. “Same goes.”
Epilogue
Two years later
The big white house on Lawyers Row never became a bed and breakfast. It was simply Elliot House, an assisted living residence, although Jonah had tacked a sign above the back door that proclaimed it the Peacock Old Farts’ Home. Mrs. Rountree hadn’t liked that at first, but it had grown on her. She now referred to herself as the Senior Fart.
The house was watched over by a caring staff and numerous volunteers, but Grace still came to do the laundry, drying the sheets in the night air. Louisa May and Rosamunde still sunned themselves on the stoop and scratched the wooden screen door when they wanted in.
Grace and Dillon hadn’t bought a house in the suburbs. The Victorian they lived in was the one Mrs. Rountree reluctantly relinquished when she admitted she could no longer care for herself.
Steven remained in Knoxville, still operating on peoples’ hearts though his own seemed irreparable. He came back to Peacock often, staying in the guesthouse at Dillon and Grace’s. He shot baskets with Dillon and Grant, teased Faith and argued continuously with Grace. He visited the cemetery each time he came, returning to the house with hollow eyes to sit on the porch with Rosamunde’s daughter, Lucy Maud, in his lap.
Grant and Faith remained unchanged by time. They were still devoted to each other and Faith was still teeth-grindingly perfect—except for a growing outspokenness and a tattoo on her backside.
No one ever mentioned Robert Elliot’s name anymore, and Grace seldom thought of either him or The Other. When she went to the cemetery, she placed flowers on Promise’s and Debbie’s graves and stood back and admired the angels Dillon and Steven had had carved into the headstones.
Her grief over Promise’s death had eased with time, but the loss still hurt, still sent Grace to the attic sometimes to mourn in solitude. If she stayed too long, Dillon came and got her.
On Promise’s birthday, Grace went from the cemetery to the Cup and Cozy. She’d been sitting in their old booth with a mug clasped between her hands when Faith slid into the seat across from her. They’d talked and laughed and told stories and cried until Grace realized the ache was gone. She had finally, as Promise had wanted, given Faith a “bigger place.”
Sometimes—especially if they were visiting New York and saw little Noah—Dillon got a faraway look in his eyes, and she knew he was thinking of John.
At the library, she told a story about Little John Magpie, having Faith write it down in shorthand. Maxie typed it on Dillon’s computer and Jonah illustrated it with bold, colorful drawings. Grace wrote at the bottom of the title page, “In loving memory of Little John,” and gave the story to Dillon.
He’d read it in silence, silver coming and going in his eyes, then pulled Grace into his arms and held her for a long time.
Their dragons, if not slain, were at rest.
The residents of Elliot House, from Mrs. Willard in her wheelchair to Mrs. Rountree in Grace’s old room to Jonah and Maxie in the guesthouse, always celebrated all the holidays. You never knew, Jonah was wont to say, when it might be your last one. This Fourth of July, they were also celebrating the arrival of Heart of the Hero to a nice, cozy spot on the bestseller list.
“It’s going to be a good one.” Jonah looked up at the cloudy sky. “No fireworks tonight except those the Lord puts on.”
“It’s been a lovely day anyway,” Maxie said.
“It has.” Grace looked around for Dillon, then squealed when he hugged her from behind, his arms crossing inside the bib of her overalls. “Everything all battened down?”
“Uh-huh. Faith’s in the house lighting candles because Mrs. Rountree insists there’s going to be a power outage.”
“Where are…” Grace allowed the question to go unasked when she heard the basketball pounding on the driveway. She turned, still in Dillon’s arms, to see Steven and Grant playing Horse. “Damn,” she said softly.
“He’s better,” Dillon promised.
Thunder punctuated his words as Steven landed on his backside. He glared up at the sky. “So you think that’s funny, do you?” he called. His gaze veered toward Dillon and Grace. “She forgets that I’m a doctor and tall and deserve respect.”
“She always did forget that,” Dillon said. “I think it’s shameful.”
Steven pushed himself to his feet and came over to them, his arm slung over Grant’s shoulders.
Faith walked across the yard to stand in front of her husband, leaning back against him and linking her arm through Grace’s. Steven stood close enough to Dillon that their shoulders touched. Thunder rolled almost gently through the sky.
The connection was complete.
About the Author
Liz retired from the post office and, for the first time ever, has all the time for writing she wants. It’s every bit as cool as she thought it would be. There are stories hidden in her computer keyboard, and she’s having so much fun dragging them out word by word.
When the words are being stubborn, Liz enjoys quilting; she’s three down on her quest to make a queen-size quilt for each of her grandchildren.
She and her husband, Duane, share a farmhouse at the end of a dusty lane where they’ve lived for over thirty years, taking time out for trips several times a year. Her favorite was to Ireland.
One More Summer is Liz’s fifth book, though her first with Carina Press. The Debutante’s Second Chance, a Silhouette Special Edition novel, was nominated for an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award. Because of Joe was a LASR Best Book choice from Long and Short Reviews.
Liz can be reached at lizkflaherty@yahoo.com. She’d love to hear from you.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9301-8
Copyright © 2012 by Liz Flaherty
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