deep breath. And she made a list, a careful one, of everything that needed doing. Once she’d crossed the last thing off, she was going home.
She was taking Callie back to Rendezvous Ridge.
4
I t took most of the day, and some creative bribery, to keep Callie from interrupting her. Accounts to be closed, others to be transferred, the change of address, the forwarding. The cost of the moving company to break down Callie’s furniture, ship it and set it up again made her wince. And she considered renting a U-Haul and doing it herself.
But she’d need help getting the bed and dresser downstairs and into a trailer anyway.
So she swallowed hard and went for it.
It paid off, to her way of thinking, as the next day, for a twenty-dollar tip, the movers took the big TV off the wall in the living room, wrapped it and carted it out to the van for her.
Donna, as good as her word, had the lockbox installed.
She packed what was left, stowed whatever she might need on the road in a big tote.
Maybe it was foolish to leave so late on a Friday. Smarter, more sensible to get a fresh start in the morning.
But she wasn’t spending another night in a house that had never been hers.
She walked through, bottom to top, top back to bottom, then stood in the two-story foyer.
She could see now, with the stark art, the too sleek furnishings removed, how it might be. Warmer colors, softer tones, maybe some big old piece, something with character, a little bit of curve in the entranceway to hold flowers, candles.
A mix of old and new, she thought, aiming for casual elegance with touches of fun.
Antique mirrors—yes, she’d group old mirrors, different shapes, along that wall, jumble books with family photos and pretty little whatnots on those shelves. And . . .
Not hers now, she reminded herself. No longer her space, no longer her problem.
“I’m not going to say I hate this place. That doesn’t seem fair to whoever moves in after me. It’s like putting a hex on it. So I’m just going to say I took care of it best I could while I could.”
She left the keys on the kitchen counter with a thank-you note for Donna, then reached for Callie’s hand.
“Come on, baby girl, we’re going on our trip.”
“We’re gonna see Granny and Grandpa and Gamma and Granddaddy.”
“You bet we are, and everybody else, too.”
She walked out to the garage with Callie wheeling her little Cinderella—her once favorite princess, currently usurped by Fiona—overnight bag behind her.
“Let’s get you and Fifi strapped in.”
As she secured Callie in the car seat, Callie patted Shelby’s cheek. Her signal for: Look at me, and pay attention.
“What is it, baby?”
“We’re gonna be there soon?”
Uh-oh. Torn between amusement and resignation, Shelby patted Callie’s cheek in turn. If the versions of
Are we there yet?
began before they pulled out of the garage, they were in for a very long trip.
“It’s all the way to Tennessee, remember? That’s going to take some time, so it’s not going to be real soon. But . . .” She widened her eyes to demonstrate the excitement to come. “We’re going to get to stay the night in a motel. Like adventurers.”
“’Venturers.”
“That’s right. You and me, Callie Rose. Fingers on noses,” she added, and Callie giggled, put her fingers to her nose so Shelby could close the side door of the van.
She backed out of the garage, sat for a moment until the door came all the way down again.
“And that’s that,” she said.
She drove away without a backward glance.
• • •
T RAFFIC WAS A MISERY but she wasn’t going to care about that. It would take as long as it took.
To save
Shrek
for when real boredom hit, she kept Callie entertained with songs, ones her little girl knew, and fresh ones she’d stored up to avoid the endless repetition and save her own sanity.
It mostly worked.
Crossing the state line into Maryland felt like a victory. She wanted to keep
She was taking Callie back to Rendezvous Ridge.
4
I t took most of the day, and some creative bribery, to keep Callie from interrupting her. Accounts to be closed, others to be transferred, the change of address, the forwarding. The cost of the moving company to break down Callie’s furniture, ship it and set it up again made her wince. And she considered renting a U-Haul and doing it herself.
But she’d need help getting the bed and dresser downstairs and into a trailer anyway.
So she swallowed hard and went for it.
It paid off, to her way of thinking, as the next day, for a twenty-dollar tip, the movers took the big TV off the wall in the living room, wrapped it and carted it out to the van for her.
Donna, as good as her word, had the lockbox installed.
She packed what was left, stowed whatever she might need on the road in a big tote.
Maybe it was foolish to leave so late on a Friday. Smarter, more sensible to get a fresh start in the morning.
But she wasn’t spending another night in a house that had never been hers.
She walked through, bottom to top, top back to bottom, then stood in the two-story foyer.
She could see now, with the stark art, the too sleek furnishings removed, how it might be. Warmer colors, softer tones, maybe some big old piece, something with character, a little bit of curve in the entranceway to hold flowers, candles.
A mix of old and new, she thought, aiming for casual elegance with touches of fun.
Antique mirrors—yes, she’d group old mirrors, different shapes, along that wall, jumble books with family photos and pretty little whatnots on those shelves. And . . .
Not hers now, she reminded herself. No longer her space, no longer her problem.
“I’m not going to say I hate this place. That doesn’t seem fair to whoever moves in after me. It’s like putting a hex on it. So I’m just going to say I took care of it best I could while I could.”
She left the keys on the kitchen counter with a thank-you note for Donna, then reached for Callie’s hand.
“Come on, baby girl, we’re going on our trip.”
“We’re gonna see Granny and Grandpa and Gamma and Granddaddy.”
“You bet we are, and everybody else, too.”
She walked out to the garage with Callie wheeling her little Cinderella—her once favorite princess, currently usurped by Fiona—overnight bag behind her.
“Let’s get you and Fifi strapped in.”
As she secured Callie in the car seat, Callie patted Shelby’s cheek. Her signal for: Look at me, and pay attention.
“What is it, baby?”
“We’re gonna be there soon?”
Uh-oh. Torn between amusement and resignation, Shelby patted Callie’s cheek in turn. If the versions of
Are we there yet?
began before they pulled out of the garage, they were in for a very long trip.
“It’s all the way to Tennessee, remember? That’s going to take some time, so it’s not going to be real soon. But . . .” She widened her eyes to demonstrate the excitement to come. “We’re going to get to stay the night in a motel. Like adventurers.”
“’Venturers.”
“That’s right. You and me, Callie Rose. Fingers on noses,” she added, and Callie giggled, put her fingers to her nose so Shelby could close the side door of the van.
She backed out of the garage, sat for a moment until the door came all the way down again.
“And that’s that,” she said.
She drove away without a backward glance.
• • •
T RAFFIC WAS A MISERY but she wasn’t going to care about that. It would take as long as it took.
To save
Shrek
for when real boredom hit, she kept Callie entertained with songs, ones her little girl knew, and fresh ones she’d stored up to avoid the endless repetition and save her own sanity.
It mostly worked.
Crossing the state line into Maryland felt like a victory. She wanted to keep
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