A Family to Cherish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  Evelyn’s head shifted right. Their conversation had drawn her attention. Meredith winked across the room and said, “Hey, Grandma’s here with me. Tell her about it.”

  She didn’t wait for permission, but handed Evelyn the phone. Flustered, Evelyn studied the small cell phone, and then held it to her ear. “Hello?”

  Meredith cringed inside, understanding the sensitive microphone feature, and hoping Rachel’s hearing would withstand the onslaught. Evelyn repeated the word, then frowned and wagged the phone. “I can’t hear a thing.”

  “Try this.” Meredith turned on the speakerphone feature. “Is that better?”

  “Hi, Grandma!”

  Evelyn brightened. Meredith decided to jot down the day and the hour for posterity.

  “Rachel. Are you having fun?”

  “So much! We got stolen by pirates and we almost had to walk the plank!”

  “Well, good thing Daddy got you those swimming lessons when you were little.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.”

  Meredith moved out of earshot to allow Evelyn some private time with the girls. True, they’d called to talk to her, but helping them bridge their relationship with their Grandma Calhoun seemed like a good thing. And if Evelyn’s attitude continued to improve, well…she might enjoy having the girls around more often.

  Evelyn held up the phone. “They had to go have lunch.”

  “Awesome.” Meredith pocketed the phone with a smile. “They sound like they’re having a great time.”

  “The DeRoses can afford to do things like that with them.”

  Meredith waved that off as inconsequential. “They can’t teach them to draw. Or to put up applesauce for the winter. Or to make that sour cherry jam you used to make. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything better than your sour cherry jam.”

  “Really?” Evelyn’s face softened, as if the idea of anyone loving her jam was too great an accomplishment. “I haven’t made that in years.”

  “Maybe this year, then. The girls would enjoy learning that kind of thing.”

  “And you know this because?”

  Meredith sank into the chair opposite Cam’s mother. “My mom and I baked with them the last time they were over. That’s the nuts and bolts they miss about not having a mother, because they really don’t remember Kristy that well.”

  Evelyn’s face shadowed. “Rachel don’t remember her at all.”

  “No.”

  “Well, then I’ll do it, I suppose. Once we get this—” she waved a hand at her throat “—done with.”

  “They’ll love it.”

  “Would you mind helping?”

  Emotion welled in Meredith’s chest. Her throat tightened. Her chin wanted to quiver, but she held firm. Cam’s mother was asking for her help. And today, she was accepting her help. Would wonders never cease? Meredith stood, smiled, and laid a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. “I’d love to. First, we’ll tackle cancer….”

  A little smile and a firm nod accented that idea.

  “And then kitchen skills.”

  “You’ve got a deal. And now, can you help me pick a color from this tray, young lady?” Evelyn asked. She pinched her lips in question, then relaxed back into a smile. “Something that goes with old and wrinkled would be good.”

  Meredith laughed, helped Evelyn select a subdued country rose, then chatted with her while Jeannine finished the pedicure.

  Had the cancer diagnosis changed Evelyn to this degree? Or was it the result of time? Of prayer?

  Probably all three, Meredith decided, but whatever the cause, she was gratified to spend an enjoyable day with Cam’s mother, an achievement she wouldn’t have considered possible a few weeks back.

  * * *

  Meredith had made over his mother.

  Cam’s head reeled with that reality.

  He’d walked into the house and found an updated version of Evelyn Calhoun waiting for him. Fresh coffee filled the pot, and cookies…yes, fresh-baked cookies…filled a plate on the table.

  Obviously he’d entered an alternate universe through some secret portal, but he had no desire to turn back. The cookies smelled too good.

  “You baked.”

  She nodded as if she did this kind of thing all the time, and a little nerve inside Cam tweaked his brain. She had baked when they were young. Before Dad died.

  “I want to get in practice again, but it seems like some things you don’t forget.” She jutted her chin toward the plate, then the oven. “I put these together just as easy as pie without lookin’ up the recipe in my box, but I can’t for the life of me remember where I set my glasses down. Memory’s a funny thing.”

  “It is.” Cam took two cookies, accepted the cup of coffee she poured him and tried not to choke on the surprise of his mother acting like a benevolent host. He sighed in delight when he bit into the first. “These are the best you ever made.”

  She preened. And with her new hair color accenting her updated cut and curl…and was that makeup she had on? He squinted and was pretty sure it was.

  The smile made her look downright pretty. “Mom, you look beautiful.”

  She sat in the chair alongside him, made a face, but couldn’t hide her pleasure at his words. “Oh, go on.”

  “I mean it. And you were okay with Meredith and Heather doing this?”

  “Them girls are nice.” She leaned forward and tapped the table with force, then frowned and checked her nails before she met his gaze. “I never held for such things, I know, but Meredith was right about it relaxing you. I felt so good when they were done. And not just the primping, but having my shoulders and back massaged. Land sakes, Cameron, I felt like a new woman.”

  “Well, you look wonderful. And I’m glad you had fun. And these cookies?” He raised a third into the air, and that broadened her smile. “The best ever. Can you teach the girls how to do this sometime?”

  “Exactly why I’m practicing.” She jumped up, withdrew a recipe box from the corner of a glass-fronted cupboard, and settled it carefully, as though the contents were fragile. “In here are all my old recipes. Meredith and I are going to teach the girls a thing or two. If it’s all right,” she added, looking at him for confirmation.

  “It’s fine.”

  More than fine, he wanted to shout, but he left it low-key, sure his mother would think him whacked if he jumped in the air. No, simple delight was better, he knew that, but inside?

  He was dancing for joy. His mother would go into surgery tomorrow looking good, feeling good, with a mindset of faith and confidence. Coupled with the good doctor’s expertise, he couldn’t ask for more, but he did. Seeing his mother’s peace and comfort, he sent up a prayer that God watch over her. Guide the surgeon’s hands. Because he really, truly wanted his mother around for a long while, a chance for the girls to know and love this side of Evelyn Calhoun.

  The side he’d pretty much forgotten.

  He called Meredith as soon as he got behind the wheel.

  No answer.

  He scowled, wondered if he should track her down, but had no idea where she might be. Obviously busy, or she’d have answered her phone. He left a message extolling his gratitude, but wished he could thank her in person. The gradual changes in his mother, in his relationship with her, in his heart, and yes, maybe even his soul…

  Wondrous summed it up.

  He headed home and cleaned up. He decided not to bother with the internet because he needed to have his mother in Rochester by 9:00 a.m. and that meant an early start.

  He went to bed, tired but pleased, and Cam couldn’t remember the last time he’d put those two things together, but tonight he did. Thankfully.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Meredith Brenn
an?”

  The moment Meredith heard the words, she knew the jig was up but refused to react overtly.

  Inside?

  Her gut jellied.

  “You are Meredith Brennan, aren’t you?”

  Meredith moved to shrug by the guy, but he pulled out a small pad. Too late, she saw a photographer snapping shots to his left. The zip-click of the camera said more than words ever could.

  “Miss Brennan, did you have an affair with Charles Bellwater while living in Beaumont, Maryland?”

  She pushed past, then felt a quick, strong arm at her flank. “Come on, Mere.”

  Heather. Thank You, God.

  Heather steered her toward the car, helped shield her from the camera as she ducked in, then rounded the car in record time, climbed in, and set the clutch with lightning speed. “I expect this will move them.”

  She popped into gear.

  Oh, they moved, all right. The reporter dodged right, the photographer stepped left, and Heather barreled out of the parking lot with a Hollywood-worthy squeal of rubber.

  “Morons.”

  Meredith wouldn’t disagree, but she also understood one thing: they were doing their job. And they wouldn’t stop. She frowned, realized Heather was heading north, not south, and turned. “Where are you going?”

  “Megan Romesser’s old apartment.”

  Megan had lived in the furnished apartment above her cookie store in Jamison before she got married. “Because?”

  Heather sidled her a look. “Your mother just called me. They’re everywhere, Mere.”

  Oh, God, no. Please, no. I’m not ready. I haven’t told Cam. I haven’t…

  Too late, she realized. Obviously the press had the story, and they’d hunt her down like bloodhounds, relentless. Persistent. And they wouldn’t give up until they captured their prey.

  She put a hand on Heather’s arm and when Heather glanced her way, Meredith jerked her head. “Turn around.”

  “Huh?”

  “Head back.”

  “No.”

  Meredith sighed, shrugged and gave her old friend a slightly worn smile. “Yes. Come on, Heather. You know it’s the right thing to do. And I promised myself I’d face things head-on for the rest of my life. Starting now.”

  Heather’s eyes went moist, and Meredith needed to staunch her friend’s rising sympathy. If Heather got emotional, Meredith would lose it, too, and she didn’t want that. “You told me you know one of the columnists for the Wellsville Daily Reporter, right?”

  Heather’s face brightened, catching her drift. “Yes.”

  Meredith dialed her mother’s number. “Let’s see how she’d feel about an exclusive. Cut these guys off at the pass. Jerk the rug out from under their feet.”

  “Because if the story’s already out there…”

  “They’ve got nothing new to report.”

  “Exactly. The best defense—”

  “Is a well-executed offense.” Meredith finished the thought for her friend. “If someone’s going to benefit from this, I’d rather it be the hometown paper than some national scandal sheet.”

  “I concur.” Heather turned the car around and headed back toward Wellsville, but she shot Meredith a quick look of question. “You’re sure?”

  Knowing what was at stake? That Cam would have every reason to walk away and never look back? To shrug her off and keep her from his beautiful daughters? No, she wasn’t a bit sure, but she also knew it was the right thing to do.

  To everything there is a season….

  This season, the truth would set her free. She’d see to it.

  * * *

  The surgeon shook Cam’s hand, handed him a prescription for painkillers his mother could take if needed, and turned to face Evelyn. “It looks good, Mrs. Calhoun. We’ll keep a close check on you initially, so you’ll be taking some trips back and forth, but the surgery went well. No problems. And we’ll keep our eye on things.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Cam took her arm as they went to the car, and she raised a thoughtful hand to her throat. “It’s hard to imagine that’s it.”

  “For treatment?”

  “Yes.” She met his look, stopped, and hugged him. “I wouldn’t have even gone looking for a solution like this if you hadn’t pressured me.”

  “Well—”

  “Thank you, son. It means a lot to me.”

  Him, too. Helping her, being nice, being the son he should have been? All good. He opened the car door. “Hop in. Let’s get you home and see what’s cooking in Allegany County.”

  He rued the words the minute he stepped into the Crossroads mini-mart to gas up an hour later. His mother had dozed off thirty minutes into the trip and hadn’t awakened as yet. Which was probably a good thing because Cam found himself tempted to inflict bodily harm on two men in the store, and his mother wouldn’t approve.

  “She sold that story, no doubt.” The one man held up a copy of the Wellsville Daily, while the other guy scowled at the picture of Meredith flanked by her mother and Heather Madigan.

  “Most likely. Women like that will do anything, and she’ll probably be cutting a cushy book deal soon.”

  “Stinkin’ tell-all.” The first guy handed over a card to the clerk, signed the receipt, then gathered his things. “We got nothing here. Best thing to do is leave it alone. The story’s out, she pulled the surprise factor out from under us, and I expect the town will do damage enough. Hole-in-the-wall towns like this don’t like loose women hanging around.”

  “Some factions might.” The photographer leered.

  The leer did it.

  The combination of their words, attitude, and the article that proclaimed Meredith as Charles Bellwater’s lover pushed Cam over the edge. In the blink of an eye, calm, cool Cam Calhoun had the first guy up against a wall of canned goods. The second guy backed off, hands raised. “Since you’re leaving town anyway, let me just help you to the door.” Cam steered the man toward the door with quick steps.

  “I don’t mind offering an assist.” Brett Stanton came from behind the counter and grabbed the other guy’s arm. “I was making a sandwich at the lunch counter, and didn’t think too highly of how these guys were describing our town’s latest entrepreneur.”

  “Me, either.”

  The mouthy reporter began a tirade about lawsuits, rights’ infringement and freedom of the press.

  “There’s a couple of sheriffs right there.” Cam inclined his head toward two patrol cruisers parked side by side along the curb. “I’m sure they’d love to hear your complaints. I do believe one of them is Meredith Brennan’s cousin.”

  “So it is.” Brett followed Cam’s lead and kept his voice nonchalant. “That’s Zach Walker. Let’s see if I can get their attention.”

  “No.”

  “Never mind.”

  The two loudmouths went real quiet at the thought of meeting up with the maligned woman’s uniformed cousin.

  “Get out.” Cam stared the guy down, released his arm, and jerked a thumb to the car. “And don’t come back. And if your mother forgot to teach you the Thumper rule, you might do well to look it up.”

  They pulled away with a spin of loose gravel.

  Part of Cam felt good.

  Another part had been sucker-punched. This was what Meredith had wanted to tell him. He was sure of it. The look in her eyes, the shame, the longing. The sorrow.

  He’d read the emotions and put it off, and now she’d come face-to-face with the Maryland past she’d fled.

  His heart twisted in realization. She’d run away from Allegany County years ago, when things got rough, unable to deal with the gossip, heat and derision. What would she do now? Run? Stay?

 
Run, most likely.

  He turned and stuck out a hand to Brett. “Hey, thanks. I appreciate your help.”

  Brett shrugged it off. “Right place. Right time. And I like Meredith Brennan. I went by the spa to do a fire code inspection yesterday morning, and she’s, well…” He shrugged. “A nice lady. Doesn’t deserve junk like that. And there were guys like these two crawling all over town yesterday, hunting her down. I’ve never been a big fan of reporters. Glad to help.”

  The words meant more because Brett wasn’t the kind of guy who mixed or mingled unless it was with the fire department. As a crew chief, he stayed involved in helping others, but from the outside looking in. Always.

  “Well, your military training came in handy, Chief. Thank you.”

  Brett nodded, waved a quick but not unfriendly hand toward the two sheriffs and headed back inside.

  Reporters crawling all over town? No wonder she hadn’t answered her phone last night. And he’d gone off to bed, unaware.

  Guilt prickled until he realized that unaware meant she hadn’t turned to him. Hadn’t come to him. And that most likely, given a choice, Meredith would run.

  Again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The ringing doorbell ignited Meredith’s adrenaline Saturday morning. Her mother’s expression said the caller wasn’t Cam, but she didn’t shut the door in the visitor’s face, so it wasn’t a reporter, either. Jude Anne Geisler`s father walked into her mother’s living room, spotted Meredith and gave a quick nod. “I know why you left.”

  Because he was about the last person on earth Meredith expected to see, her reaction time stumbled.

  “And we want you back.” Kevin Geisler spread his hands, his expression apologetic. “Jude Anne can’t handle the rigors of a job like this. I thought she could. Hoped she could. But when I found out what happened with Chas, Charles, whatever his name is, it all made sense. And because my daughter was stressed after trying to run a business that takes a certain amount of finesse she doesn’t possess, she confessed that she pushed you into leaving.”

  “Blackmailed her, you mean.” Dana met his look of apology with one of quiet determination. “Your daughter blackmailed Meredith, costing her livelihood, her accrued time, her pension investments and threatening her good name. If we put this into evidentiary proceedings, any judge worth his salt would find reason to hold her accountable in both civil and criminal court.”