by Jenny Hale
“He drove me all the way from New York so I could get here,” Hannah explained.
Her mother seemed surprised, and Hannah was pretty sure she was wondering why she hadn’t brought Miles with her. “You are a godsend, young man,” Maura said with a warm smile as she patted his arm in a friendly greeting.
“Liam is going to be staying in the spare room with us for a few days. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” She walked around Hannah and gave Ethan a hug. “Someone says ‘cake’ and Ethan shows up,” she teased him.
Exhaustion lingered under her gracious smile, but she maintained her usual good humor, the worry from her initial phone call replaced by fatigue. With a playful shake of the head, her gaze doting as if she were looking at her own child, she said, “Missed ya. What ya been up to?”
“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “Same ol’ thing. Workin’ with Dad.”
“Well, I’ve got a big dinner that’s been going on the stove all day. And I’ve made mulled cider,” she said. Then her eyebrows bounced at her daughter. “Your favorite.” She gave Hannah a wink. “I’ll just put another bread bowl in the oven for Liam. Ethan, you staying?”
“Naw, thank you, ma’am,” he said. “I’m heading home. Just wanted to stop by and welcome Hannah back to our little corner of the world.” He said the words “little corner of the world” patronizingly, but then laughed as if to play it off.
“Suit yourself,” Maura said, wrinkling her nose at him. “Liam, you hungry?”
“Please don’t go to any trouble on my account,” Liam said.
Mama shooed away his comment. “It’s no problem at all. Y’all go unpack and get comfortable. Hannah, show him where to put his things.”
“I’ll catch y’all later,” Ethan said.
As he passed Hannah, he leaned close to her. “See ya,” he said, just the way he always had when he’d dropped her off from school, as if to say everything would be okay. The sound of it made her want to cry with relief right there.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Hannah said, as Liam parked his suitcase against the wall of Hannah’s old room, and scanned the walls inquisitively.
Hannah sat down on the quilted bedding of her four-poster bed, considering how long it had been since she’d slept here.
“I remember Ethan well,” Liam said. “He’s a good friend, right?”
“He was my best friend. I’ve known him all my life.”
“He likes to give you a hard time,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning upward.
“Always.” She chuckled fondly at the thought of him. “He’s mad at me for not coming home over the years, so he’s going to make me aware of that fact every minute I’m in his presence, I’m sure.”
Liam nodded, strolling over by the window and peering down at the plaque Gran had displayed on a side table. “You won a pie-baking contest?” he asked.
“Mm-hm. My grandmother and I made key lime pie for the Spring Festival right after I turned sixteen… You know, it’s about that time of year right now.”
“I did hear something about the Spring Festival coming up,” he said, looking back at the award.
“I’d entered the contest that day instead of getting my driving permit. That’s why Morgan always drove whenever we saw you that year.”
“That must’ve been a good pie to forego your driver’s permit.”
“It’s award-winning,” she said, teasing him and making him smile.
She shifted her gaze to the wall opposite them to avoid the flutter of happiness that it caused her, catching sight of the old shadow box of pressed flowers hanging on the wall. She ran her fingers along the frame.
Hannah’s first memory of it was when she was five. She’d felt so grown up when Gran had allowed her to use the pressing board for the first time. She still remembered placing the lone poppy in the center, her tiny hands shaking as she held it down with all her might to keep the press together.
Liam picked up a frame with a grainy photo of Gran and eight-year-old Hannah, outside Nell Winter’s old barn where Gran used to get her geraniums and have coffee with Nell. “I can still see traces of this little girl in your face now,” he said, looking between Hannah and the photo. He paced further into the room. “You were on the high school gymnastics team? I didn’t know that.” He leaned over the dresser to get a better view of the trophies Gran had placed there.
“I don’t know why she displays those,” Hannah said. “I was packing them up before I moved to New York, and she was visiting at the house. She’d said she wanted to take care of them for me.”
He was thoughtful, that undecipherable look that seemed to come and go at random washing over him again as he set the photo back into its spot. “She asked because she was going to miss you, and she didn’t want to let you go,” he said. “Having your things around would make it feel more like you were here.”
“You think so?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“I know so,” he replied.
“How do you know?” she asked him outright, hoping he’d open up.
“I just do,” he said, turning away from her toward the window and folding his arms. His back heaved with an inhale and he slowly released it, something seemed to be eating at him.
She wasn’t sure what came over her, but she put her hands on his back, moving slowly to his arms, making him turn around.
“What’s the matter?” she asked seriously, looking up into his eyes.
“Nothing,” he said, but something substantial had taken hold of him.
His gaze roamed her face, settling on her lips, his hands finding hers. He intertwined their fingers hesitantly, as if trying on his affection for her for the first time. Their electricity was so new to Hannah, and it occurred to her, in the moment, that she and Miles hadn’t ever had this kind of spark. If she wanted to be brutally honest with herself, the Barbados trip had been covering up the fact things were pretty bleak between them.
“You know, I’m great at listening. If you want to tell me what’s bothering you, I’ll listen.”
He moved in closer. He was so near that she could feel his breath gently brush her skin. He gave her hands an affectionate squeeze, their bodies pulling together like magnets. Everything around them melted away as she looked into his eyes. His lips parted as if he were going to say something, and she hung on his every minuscule movement, waiting for it, wanting to know what was clouding that gorgeous face of his.
The door squeaked and the two of them flew apart instinctively.
Her mother pushed it open an inch further. “Dinner’ll be ready in an hour,” she said, ripping through the moment. “Y’all come on out and have a drink with us. I’ve got that mulled cider. It’s been brewing in the Crock-Pot all day.”
“Thanks, Mama,” Hannah said.
When her mother had shut the door and retreated back down the hall, he looked white as a ghost.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Whatever it is, I want to help.”
“You definitely can’t help,” he said, his words kind but final.
“Okay, then I at least want to listen.”
He moved back over to her, standing close again. And she could tell by the shallowness of his breathing that their proximity affected him. “Now’s not the time to explain it,” he said, his voice gentle. He cleared his throat, looking at the door. “It’s your birthday. Your mom has mulled cider, and she’s dying for us to have some—she’s mentioned it twice now.” He winked at her, his spirit seeming to lift, but something told her that the burden he was carrying would return.
Hannah grinned up at him, drinking in the look he was giving her, and knowing that despite everything, something was definitely happening between them. It was like a rocket, its engines firing with no way to stop it.
Liam opened the door. “Let’s get that cider.”
Hannah went with him to the kitchen, her outlook brighteni
ng. She remembered how Gran had always told her, “To get to the treasure, sometimes we have to go through the stormy seas.” Hannah couldn’t help but think she was in the storm right now, but being back at Gran’s and weathering it with Liam could be the best thing that had happened to her in quite a while.
Ten
The cake and gifts had been set aside until after dinner, and replaced with plates of fresh homemade bread that her mama had warmed in the oven. She’d scooped out the centers and filled the rolls with her creamy potato-bacon stew, topped with grated cheese. The savory aroma of it tickled Hannah’s nose.
Hannah sat down between her father and Liam, and scooted her chair closer to the table.
“It’s so good to have you kids home,” Maura said, taking a sip of her cider, her shoulders finally seeming to relax from the day. “Where do you live now, Liam?”
“Charleston,” he replied.
“Another out-of-towner,” Mama said with a teasing wink in Hannah’s direction. “We tried to keep Hannah here, but she couldn’t be contained. She was drawn to the bright city lights.”
Liam took in her observation, looking on thoughtfully.
“Remember how you used to put on your mom’s high heels and walk around with a notepad, pretending you were at work?” her father asked.
Hannah’s mother put her hand on her heart fondly. “Seems like yesterday.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t follow my childhood musings,” Liam said. “I wanted to be a circus clown.”
Hannah laughed out loud, his comment totally taking her off guard. “Now that I think about it, you might be able to pull off one of those giant curly wigs,” she said with another laugh.
“You think?”
“Yes, but only with a squeaky nose.” She liked the way he looked at her whenever they shared an amusing moment.
“I wanted to be the first clown magician famous enough to have his own show. I spent hours learning magic tricks from books, and at my best, I could make a quarter disappear from the palm of my hand.”
“Can you still do that trick?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t thought of those days in a long time.”
Hannah wondered why he wouldn’t have tried to show the trick to Noah.
“I’d love to see you attempt it, Liam,” Maura said, getting up from her chair and digging around in her purse. She returned with a quarter and handed it to Liam.
He took the quarter between the pointer finger and thumb of his left hand, holding it up. “Okay, I might be a bit rusty,” he said, wriggling it back and forth. “You see,” he continued dramatically, while holding up his right palm as if he were about to high-five someone, “I only have this one quarter.” He moved with a fluid motion, transferring the quarter into the palm of his right hand. “Then I close my hand around it like so.” He held up his right fist. “But wait.” He opened it up and his hand was empty.
Both Hannah and her mama gasped in surprise.
“How in the world…?” Hannah’s father said.
“Where is it?” Hannah asked.
He opened his other hand. “Right here,” he said with a grin.
“That’s fantastic,” Maura said. “Perhaps you really should’ve been a magician.”
It occurred to Hannah, as she soaked in his smile, that there was definitely a glimmer of magic floating around Liam.
“Gran was insistent that I make the cake this way,” Mama said after dinner, as she set the glass dome to the side, her knife sinking into the waves of buttercream while they all sat around the table with their dessert plates. “So I did everything exactly as she told me to. I baked the entire thing on video chat, hoping the project would cheer her up.” Maura eased out a slice of the cake and set it down on Hannah’s plate, then motioned for Liam’s.
“Peanut butter fudge swirl,” Hannah said, nostalgia filling her up. “I thought it was going to be red velvet.”
“Gran has been meticulously involved in what’s going on here ever since she found out you were coming home. And she’s had a hand in all of this. She chose the roses. She picked the cake—Liam, here you go.” Maura handed Liam his slice.
“Thank you,” he said. He was relaxed, setting down the plate and draping his elbow on the back of his chair, his mug of cider in the other hand.
Mama cut a piece for Chuck. “And the smaller present on top there—Gran was unrelenting about me finding it and wrapping it up for you.” Mama cut herself a slice of cake and sat down.
Her father held up his mug of mulled cider. “To thirty-five, a golden age where we step onto the path of life and begin the journey to who we really are. Happy birthday, my dear.”
“Cheers,” Maura said, holding up her mug and clinking it with Chuck’s. Liam and Hannah raised their mugs too.
As they all nibbled their cake, Mama handed Hannah the bigger of the two gifts. “This one’s from your dad and me,” she said, wrinkling her nose with fondness for her daughter.
Hannah untied the bow and then pulled the tape loose at the end of the gift, ripping off the red heart-printed paper. “Oh, that’s so wonderful,” she said, turning the new sweater around for Liam to see. “It’s gorgeous.” She got up and hugged her parents. “Thank you.”
“I saw it in the store window and it just screamed your name,” her father said.
“You’ll look absolutely beautiful in it. I just know it,” Mama chimed in. “Now, unwrap Gran’s gift.” She reached over and got it, passing it to Hannah.
“Should we get Gran on a video call first?” Hannah suggested.
“That’s a great idea.” Mama got up and retrieved her phone, tapping on the screen.
The phone pulsed as Hannah held the book-shaped gift in her hands. Then she heard Gran’s voice.
“Hello, Faye,” Maura said. “I’ve got Hannah here, and she’s about to unwrap your gift.” She turned the phone around. Gran was on the screen in a hospital gown, her gray hair in disarray, which was a far cry from the fashionable crop she usually styled every day.
“I wanted you to be here when I unwrapped it,” Hannah said, trying not to panic at the transparent hue of Gran’s skin or the way her eyes looked as though half the life had been sucked out of them. Gran raised a weak hand and touched her lips to hide her smile, revealing the IV in her bruised skin. Hannah chewed on her lip, the shock of seeing Gran spiking her emotions despite her attempt to stay calm. She looked so much older…
“Go on then, my love,” Gran said.
Mama propped the phone up on the table while Hannah unwrapped her present, revealing an old journal, the pages yellowed with age.
“What is this?” Hannah asked, opening the book, and reading the first entry’s date: February 14, 1943.
“It’s the journal I started when I was eighteen,” Gran said. “A collection of all the memories from my youth in Kentucky. It’s all that came before I was your gran. And a story I almost didn’t have a chance to tell you. There’s never been a more important time than now to do that.”
Tears sprung up in Hannah’s eyes. She felt as though Gran was slowly getting her affairs in order, which meant she was preparing for the end, and Hannah couldn’t bear it. She peered down at this gift, like a lifeline to her beloved grandmother, a keepsake that would stay with Hannah forever. “Thank you,” Hannah said, her words heartfelt as she ran her hand across the tattered leather cover. “I’m coming to visit tomorrow,” she said.
Gran gave her a weak smile. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“I’ll get there first thing in the morning, okay?”
“Well, at eight, one of my nurses comes in to take my vitals. She’s a chatter, bless her heart, and you won’t get a word in edgewise. Better come at nine.”
Hannah grinned. “Okay, Gran.”
“I hope you have a lovely birthday,” Gran told her. The picture was starting to shake, betraying her trembling hand as she held the phone. Her weariness was showing. “I’m going to go now so I can rest,
all right?”
“No problem. I just wanted you to see me unwrap the gift—and to say thank you for the fudge swirl cake.” Hannah pushed away more tears.
“Ah, you’re welcome. And Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Your mama knows how to make it now, okay?”
Hannah swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. All she could do was nod. But then she mustered the strength and forced the words out. “You’re gonna teach me, though,” she told Gran. A tear escaped down Hannah’s cheek and she quickly swiped it away.
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” Liam said with a catch in his voice. He left the room.
“Stop at the shop on your way to see me tomorrow, okay?” Gran said. “Make sure you fill any orders on the online system.”
“I will,” Hannah assured her, knowing there probably weren’t any orders. It didn’t matter now. She’d stop by if Gran wanted her to.
“All right, dear. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hannah said goodbye to Gran and handed her mother the phone, taking a minute to get herself together. She took in long breaths and let them out, trying to make the aching in her chest subside. When she’d collected herself, she asked her parents, “Mind if I check on Liam? I’m worried that we made him uncomfortable with the call.”
“Not at all,” Chuck said.
Hannah left the kitchen and roamed the bungalow, finally seeing him through the glass front door. He was sitting on the step outside, his back to her. She opened the door and ventured out into the cold, folding her arms in a feeble attempt to keep warm. He turned around.
“I’m sorry to have gotten so emotional just then,” she said.
But he immediately shook his head. “It’s totally fine. I just needed a minute.” His face didn’t say the same. It looked heavy with thoughts.
“Wanna tell me what you’re thinking about?” she asked, feeling bold after sharing such an intimate moment with Gran in front of Liam.
“There’s nothing to tell,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s just it: nothing. There’s nothing at all.”
She sat down beside him, hugging her knees for warmth. “Okay, with all those ‘nothings’ you just said, you implied that there’s definitely something.”