Chapter 55
Clay Creek was quiet again. The tourists and fishermen who’d descended upon the town for the tournament were all but gone,
and now the only thing left to do was wait for the next wave of people, who would make this place their home come July.
It had always been Granny’s favorite time of year—the quiet just before the storm. It was busy, with everyone working to make
it as appealing as they could. The shops downtown repainted their storefronts, they made sure the lights on their signs worked,
and everyone was in a good mood.
The older woman looked at her two grandchildren as they ate their breakfasts, a solemn silence filling the space between them.
Cassie had mostly recovered from the events of the evening of the tournament, but she’d rotated between Granny’s bed and Mylie’s
for the last two weeks. Granny didn’t mind. She never minded, and Cassie had accepted her one-month grounding without complaint.
In fact, she’d seemed relieved to be banned from going anywhere. Perhaps she’d had enough adventure for the moment.
But it was Mylie who made Granny worry. Mylie, who seemed as if a spark had dimmed inside of her. Lord, she could kick that
Lawrence kid for hurting her.
Mylie looked up at Granny and gave her a small smile. “I’m fine, Granny. Stop worrying.”
“I know you are,” Granny replied, trying and failing to believe the words. “What do you have planned today?”
Mylie shrugged. “Work,” she said. “But I was hoping maybe you two would like to go out to dinner in Rockbridge tonight. We
can go to that pizza place Cassie loves so much.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”
“Sounds good to me.” Granny cleared the breakfast plates. “We’ll be ready when you get home from work.”
Mylie left the house seemingly lighter, and Cassie took herself up to her room. Granny sat down on her bed, trying to work
up the energy to vacuum. She knew she’d slowed down a bit over the years, but she often reminded herself that she was still
up and at ’em with the chickens on most days.
She looked over at the picture of her late husband. He’d died before either Mylie or Allie were born. Sometimes she wondered
if his death when their daughter had been just five years old was the cause for the brokenness in her, in both of them. Violet
Mason had loved that man with her whole heart, and when she’d lost him, it took a long time to wake up in the morning without
wanting to join him.
It hadn’t always been easy living with him, either. He was temperamental, but then again, so was she. It always made her smile
to think of the way he’d proposed to her, late one evening after an argument about a flat tire. She’d changed it herself,
instead of allowing him to do it for her, and he’d paced back and forth on the side of the road until he couldn’t take it
anymore and declared, “Well, Violet, will you ever let me ask you to marry you, or do you plan to propose to your own damn
self?”
She’d looked up at him, covered in dust and her red hair flying in all directions, and replied, “I reckon I’ll let you do
it, Jim, if you’re so inclined.”
And that had been it. They’d married two months later and eventually settled into this house. She fingered the floral bedspread with a hand that looked older than she felt and missed that man as much as she’d allowed herself to miss him in years.
It was the reason, as much as she enjoyed Morris, that she’d never remarried. Violet had room for only one man in her heart,
and he’d been gone nearly as long as he’d been alive. She hoped that Mylie wasn’t like her in that respect.
She’d never cared if Mylie got married, and she hadn’t asked Mylie to stay here and help raise Cassie, although some part
of her always knew she would. That was just Mylie. It was who she was at her core, and although Granny sometimes worried that
she and Cassie held Mylie back, she knew it wasn’t true. Mylie made her own decisions. Always had if her choice in Ben Lawrence
were any indication.
But Granny saw the way Ben looked at Mylie. They’d been looking at each other like that since the sixth grade. It was the
way she and Jim had looked at each other, and Violet Mason had always thought that one day, Mylie and Ben would end up together,
even as the years went on and it seemed less and less likely.
When Ben came back and she watched the two of them reconnect, it felt right—like it was meant to be. Granny sighed and got
up, making for the hallway closet where the vacuum was stored. She’d think on it as she cleaned, and maybe the hurt in her
heart would ease a bit. Maybe there was still hope yet.