in a hug, the pressure strong and tight like she’d always remembered. Caley pulled back, but Nonie held her close in a grip a pro wrestler would have admired. “You look good, kiddo.”
“So do you.” The words slipped out automatically before Caley could realize their lack of truth, but Nonie just laughed hard enough to bring on a coughing spell.
“Still full of jokes. Glad life hasn’t beaten you down, my girl.” Nonie clutched Caley’s hand in her own veined, papery-thin one, and smiled, revealing perfect dentures. Then she leaned in closer, her wise blue gaze staring with the force of a laser. “Or has it?”
Caley tugged free, unable or maybe unwilling to answer. She wrapped one arm around Ava, who had dropped back, and propelled her forward. “Nonie, this is Ava. I’m her nanny for a few weeks. She and her dad live next door to the house I’m renting.”
“I know this young’in from the church.” Nonie latched on to Ava, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. “McCollough, right?”
Ava nodded and returned the squeeze, even pumping Nonie’s hand like she would a healthy adult with a regular handshake. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”
“I once changed your diapers in the church nursery.” Nonie grinned, a flash of her former spunk still vivid in her eyes. She might be stuck in this bed, but her mind was certainly not the traitor her body was. “You and your daddy still attending?”
“Most weeks.” Ava shrugged as she eased onto the side of the bed near Nonie. “We didn’t for a long time, but I’m glad he takes me again. My Sunday-school class is fun.”
“I sure wish they’d let me out of here to go.” Nonie gestured to the room holding her captive. “But you know what’s neat?” She leaned in close to Ava as if she had a secret, just like she’d done to Caley as a child. “I can meet with God right here in this room. Doesn’t have to be in a church.” She patted the worn Bible on the bedside table.
A muscle jumped in Caley’s jaw. Nonie used to take her to church when she was growing up. Her father had refused to set foot in the building, for reasons she never fully understood.
Now she sort of got it.
Caley slipped away from the bed, gratefully allowing Nonie’s attention to focus on Ava as they chattered about the people they knew in common from the church. It was a small world. No, small town. That was half the reason why Caley had bailed in the first place. She’d needed more space than four corners of a county line. More adventure than cow-tipping Farmer Ganshert’s lazy herd on a Friday night.
More life than her dad would allow her to live.
“Been a long time.” Nonie turned her attention Caley, her plum-colored lips thinning into a line. Leave it to Nonie to wear lipstick in the nursing home. Her eyes widened with meaning. “Too long.”
“I’m sorry, Nonie.” Caley started to say more, but the words froze deep inside and refused to thaw. Sudden tears burned behind her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ward them off. It was her fault she’d stayed away—but then again, not entirely. “We should probably go.” Far, far away. Where no one could see her cry or know her secrets. Know how selfish she’d been fresh out of high school. Know how she’d carried the hurt with her all over the country, nestled permanently on her back and heavier than the oxygen tank from her bunker gear.
But the scary part was—would she do it any differently if she could have a do-over?
“We just got here.” Ava, with all the naivety and practicality of a preteen, perched on the edge of Nonie’s bed. “ Wheel of Fortune is coming on.”
“I’ve gotten good at the puzzles.” Nonie patted Ava’s hand, and the cozy scene could have been a time warp from when Caley was ten years old, snuggled on Nonie’s bed with the remote control and her favorite quilt. “But some puzzles, my dear, are not as easily solved.”
Ava nodded as she tuned in to
“So do you.” The words slipped out automatically before Caley could realize their lack of truth, but Nonie just laughed hard enough to bring on a coughing spell.
“Still full of jokes. Glad life hasn’t beaten you down, my girl.” Nonie clutched Caley’s hand in her own veined, papery-thin one, and smiled, revealing perfect dentures. Then she leaned in closer, her wise blue gaze staring with the force of a laser. “Or has it?”
Caley tugged free, unable or maybe unwilling to answer. She wrapped one arm around Ava, who had dropped back, and propelled her forward. “Nonie, this is Ava. I’m her nanny for a few weeks. She and her dad live next door to the house I’m renting.”
“I know this young’in from the church.” Nonie latched on to Ava, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. “McCollough, right?”
Ava nodded and returned the squeeze, even pumping Nonie’s hand like she would a healthy adult with a regular handshake. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”
“I once changed your diapers in the church nursery.” Nonie grinned, a flash of her former spunk still vivid in her eyes. She might be stuck in this bed, but her mind was certainly not the traitor her body was. “You and your daddy still attending?”
“Most weeks.” Ava shrugged as she eased onto the side of the bed near Nonie. “We didn’t for a long time, but I’m glad he takes me again. My Sunday-school class is fun.”
“I sure wish they’d let me out of here to go.” Nonie gestured to the room holding her captive. “But you know what’s neat?” She leaned in close to Ava as if she had a secret, just like she’d done to Caley as a child. “I can meet with God right here in this room. Doesn’t have to be in a church.” She patted the worn Bible on the bedside table.
A muscle jumped in Caley’s jaw. Nonie used to take her to church when she was growing up. Her father had refused to set foot in the building, for reasons she never fully understood.
Now she sort of got it.
Caley slipped away from the bed, gratefully allowing Nonie’s attention to focus on Ava as they chattered about the people they knew in common from the church. It was a small world. No, small town. That was half the reason why Caley had bailed in the first place. She’d needed more space than four corners of a county line. More adventure than cow-tipping Farmer Ganshert’s lazy herd on a Friday night.
More life than her dad would allow her to live.
“Been a long time.” Nonie turned her attention Caley, her plum-colored lips thinning into a line. Leave it to Nonie to wear lipstick in the nursing home. Her eyes widened with meaning. “Too long.”
“I’m sorry, Nonie.” Caley started to say more, but the words froze deep inside and refused to thaw. Sudden tears burned behind her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ward them off. It was her fault she’d stayed away—but then again, not entirely. “We should probably go.” Far, far away. Where no one could see her cry or know her secrets. Know how selfish she’d been fresh out of high school. Know how she’d carried the hurt with her all over the country, nestled permanently on her back and heavier than the oxygen tank from her bunker gear.
But the scary part was—would she do it any differently if she could have a do-over?
“We just got here.” Ava, with all the naivety and practicality of a preteen, perched on the edge of Nonie’s bed. “ Wheel of Fortune is coming on.”
“I’ve gotten good at the puzzles.” Nonie patted Ava’s hand, and the cozy scene could have been a time warp from when Caley was ten years old, snuggled on Nonie’s bed with the remote control and her favorite quilt. “But some puzzles, my dear, are not as easily solved.”
Ava nodded as she tuned in to
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