Chapter Nine #2
My mom had once been a school nurse like me but hadn’t loved the one-on-one care or the daily nurturing that was required of the job.
So right after Amy was born, she’d gone back to school.
First to get her master’s, then her PhD.
She’d excelled in each program. She loved her job now, doing cancer research, and had been encouraging me to continue following her footsteps.
Strongly encouraging.
Strong-arming might be a better description.
And for some reason, I’d been letting her, even though research didn’t really appeal to me.
I loved the one-on-one nurturing part of my job.
It was the only part I loved, if I was being honest, but there simply wasn’t much need of it in school nursing.
Most of my job was spent dealing with paperwork.
Mary Joy fisted Tallulah’s shirt and tried to put it in her mouth. She was adorable, even when fussy. I wanted to offer to hold her, to give Tallulah a break for a moment, but I didn’t think she would accept the offer.
Her gaze was full of questions as she took a sip of coffee. Hoping she wouldn’t ask them, I quickly pulled more plates from the dishwasher and placed them in a cabinet that had two empty shelves. “I’m not used to all this extra space in a cabinet. Back home, ours are stuffed full.”
Mary Joy started to whimper, and Tallulah stood up to walk around with her. “It didn’t always used to be this way. It’s happened in the years since my grandmother passed away. Papaw’s become a bit of a minimalist—except when it comes to his crafting.”
“He’s talented. I was just admiring some of his prints.” Then I held her gaze and quietly added, “How long has your grandmother been gone?”
“Eighteen years.” She bounced slightly as she walked, and it seemed to be working on Mary Joy because she quieted. “She had cancer. Looked perfectly healthy until she didn’t. By then, it was too late.”
I recalled Katy telling me how her mother had said some sicknesses couldn’t be seen at first. Now I realized the knowledge had come from experience. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” she said. She took another sip of coffee. “Thanks again for this. It’s been a long time since someone’s made me a cup. Don’t suppose you have some caramel syrup hiding over there? My mornings are so rushed that fancy coffees seem to be a thing of my past.”
“Sorry, fresh out.”
She cracked a smile. “Next time, maybe.”
As I continued unloading dishes, I tried to work up the courage to ask her about Katy staying home today.
As if sensing I was waging an internal battle, she glanced at me. “Something wrong?”
“No, not at all.” I took a deep breath. “It’s just that I was wondering if it would be possible for Katy to skip camp today? She can stay here with Tenn and me. I’m sure I can figure out something fun for us to do.”
Clouds filled her eyes, and she shifted Mary Joy to her other hip. “I don’t think—”
“She really doesn’t want to canoe,” I blurted, hoping Katy would forgive me for sharing.
“But she loves to— Oh.” Tallulah briefly closed her eyes, then sighed. “Canoeing is something she usually does with her dad. My ex-husband, Scott. Knowing her, she probably wants to keep it that way. Something only the two of them do.”
I glanced out the window. Katy was now filling a birdbath with the garden hose. “I’m not surprised to hear that. She has a tender little soul.”
Tallulah turned her gaze from Katy to me. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth, then closed it again. After a long moment, she finally said, “I shouldn’t really be asking you this, but I need to know before I decide about Katy. What brings you here? To Forget-Me-Not?”
I rubbed a spot on the counter with my thumb. “There was a detour…”
But even as I said it, I heard Maeve in my head talking about how this town was a landing place for those who’d lost their way. And how she suspected I’d been lost before I even left home.
My heart rate picked up. Lost was exactly how I’d felt since the lightning strike. Since losing part of my memory. Since losing all of my grandfather.
Tallulah scrunched up her whole face like she was weighing her words carefully.
Her bright eyes seemed to be looking straight into my soul.
“No. What really brings you here, Juliet? This town, it’s special.
Not many understand just how special. It draws in the emotionally lost. It tethers them here.
It places them in the path of those who can help them heal so they can find the best way forward. ”
I rubbed goose bumps from my arms. The emotionally lost. Well. If that didn’t explain exactly who I was, then I didn’t know what did. “I don’t understand. Why? And how does it—”
She held up a hand. “It’s like I told you yesterday at the library.
It’s not really comprehensible. It’s just the way it is.
The way it’s always been. You didn’t end up in Forget-Me-Not by accident.
You’re here because you’re hurting and need help healing.
So, I’ll ask again. What brings you here, Juliet? ”
The baby lifted her head, her big blue eyes watching me intently, as if asking me, too.
My heart was now thumping wildly. This all sounded utterly unbelievable.
Then I thought about the detour, and how I’d been the only car on the road the whole way here. How my GPS had failed, yet now worked perfectly. And how my car had shuddered and died almost immediately once I made it to town—so I couldn’t leave.
And I was hurting. There was so much pain. At times it hardly seemed bearable.
As the word healing wound its way around my heart, making me want to believe what Tallulah said was true, tears gathered. I summoned up some courage and said, “My grandfather died a few months ago, and I can’t help thinking I could’ve—should’ve—prevented it.”
Compassion filled her eyes, and she tipped her head. A roller bobbled but held. “I’m so sorry.”
“My family tells me I couldn’t have prevented it from happening. That it was a freak accident. But my heart tells me differently.”
She sighed softly and said, “That explains the blue smoke.”
I tipped my head. “How so?”
“Blue smoke means grief. Profound sorrow.”
It took me a moment to realize what she was saying. “The smoke has meaning?”
“It gives the community a hint as to why you’re here. For example, orange is a painful choice that needs to be made. A bad relationship has red smoke.”
Dumbfounded, I asked, “Is my car even broken?”
She nodded. “Oh, definitely. But because fixing lost souls tends to take a while, your car won’t be ready to go until you’re ready to move on.”
Mary Joy suddenly surged forward, her arms reaching for me. Tallulah went with the motion so the baby wouldn’t fall.
“May I?” I asked, already reaching out.
Tallulah nodded, and I lifted Mary Joy from her hands, surprised at first at how heavy she was, then at how she fit so perfectly in my arms. She made a silly noise and gave me a watery smile.
“Beware of the drool,” Tallulah said, handing me a diaper cloth.
I threw it over my shoulder. “I’m an elementary school nurse. Drool is not a concern. Trust me.”
“I can only begin to imagine.”
It seemed a good time to ask once again about Katy staying home today, but I couldn’t quite let go of what Tallulah had told me. Not yet.
“You mentioned that this town can help heal. How does that happen?” I asked quietly, my hopes high, hanging in the air like bright, shiny stars.
Pulling in a deep breath, she said, “I wish I could say if you do this and that and the other thing, then you’ll be good to go.
Truly, though, you don’t really have to do anything.
Just keep on keeping on. Part of the magic of this town is that it guides you along.
You’re going to meet people who will do or say something that encourages progress in ways only you’ll understand.
There will be emotional connections and deep reflections.
Soon you’ll start to feel the sense of peace that’s been missing. ”
Peace. I could barely remember what that felt like. It’d been gone from my life for months now. The only time I’d come close to feeling it was here. In the attic room with the noisy air-conditioning and a chatty, bighearted little girl.
Maybe, just maybe, the magic of this small town was already working.
“Does everyone know about this?” I asked.
“Most residents do, yes. Not all visitors. It’s hard to explain, so most around here tend to let it unfold without saying anything at all.”
“Yet you told me about it.”
“I shouldn’t have, really.” She wrung her hands. “I just … I needed to know a little more about you is all. Especially with you staying here with us. I hope you understand.”
I did. Her first responsibility was to her children, and I was a stranger among them. I had nothing but respect for a mama-bear attitude.
As Mary Joy grabbed my T-shirt with both hands, I let my nosiness get the better of me and said, “I know you haven’t been here long, either, in Forget-Me-Not. Does that mean you’re lost as well?”
She sighed. “I’ve actually always wanted to live here, so moving made sense after my divorce. But I’m starting to think we’re all a little lost, in our own ways.”
“Some are just more lost than others?”
“Exactly.” She took another sip of coffee, threw a pensive look at the microwave clock, and said, “I should probably finish getting ready.”
I said, “I can keep an eye on Mary Joy until you have to leave. My sister has twin girls. I’ve done a lot of babysitting.”
Tallulah pulled her lip into her mouth. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“You really could. We’ll be right here wondering how we’re going to get Tenn to rest instead of trying to stiff-lip his way through the day.”
“That’ll be just about impossible.” Her gaze softened. “But with Katy here with you, you’ll have better odds. You two can gang up on him. He’ll want to go lie down.”
I grinned as I realized what she was saying.
She smiled in return, picked up the mug, and headed for the hallway. After only a few steps, she stopped and turned. Her eyes were filled with bold blue sympathy. “Hearts can be big liars sometimes, Juliet. Remember that, okay?”
Soon she disappeared up the stairs, leaving me with tears in my eyes, Mary Joy in my arms, and those shiny, hopeful stars still hanging in the air.