Tracey had done one good thing in her life—having Riley. Somehow, despite her erratic childhood, Riley had turned out amazing. Erma loved her with all her heart.
She still loved Tracey too.
Erma got up and limped to the window, pulling the curtains to the side. It was dark in her backyard, but she could see the shadows of the stack of mulch Hayden brought over two days ago in preparation for him and Riley to redo the flower beds on Saturday since they had a bye week in the softball league. The season was almost over, and the team was at .500, thanks to another team forfeiting a game a week ago, but from all accounts the players had enjoyed playing, and the church members had been faithful in attending the games, include Erma.
She leaned her forehead against the warm window.Tracey, honey. What are you doing?Was it too much to hope that her daughter might have finally straightened out her life? That her return meant she was ready to settle down and become a functioning member of society? Had she at least gotten clean from the drugs and alcohol that had plagued her since she was thirteen?
“How many times have I hoped for that?” Erma whispered. “How many times have I prayed she would be whole?”
Those prayers had multiplied during the past month when Tracey had contacted her twice by phone, wanting to reestablish their relationship. Erma had been firm about her boundaries—Tracey had to prove she was not only clean but also willing to change. Until then she wasn’t welcome back in her home.Maybe my prayers have finally been answered.
Erma wasn’t sure how long she stood at the window, but her leg started to ache, and that was the sign that she needed to get off it and prop it up. She dressed in her pajamas and eased into bed, foregoing her nightly devotional reading, and instead turning off the light and closing her eyes. She knew sleep would be elusive tonight, and it wasn’t just because Tracey was here.
What if she tells Riley the truth? Will my granddaughter ever forgive me?
Chapter15
Hayden arrived at Erma’s the next morning and knocked on the back door, knowing Riley and Erma ate breakfast together in the kitchen every morning. When he didn’t hear anyone answer, he knocked again, then turned the doorknob. The door opened, and he walked inside. The kitchen was empty, the coffee pot too. He frowned. He would have to remind the women that they needed to lock their doors at night. But now wouldn’t be the time.
He paused, wondering what he should do. Then he decided he could at least make coffee. By the time it finished brewing, Erma had limped into the kitchen with her cane, looking bleary-eyed and more than a little surprised to see him sitting at the table.
“Hello,” she said, frowning. “Did Riley let you in?”
“Um, no.” Now he questioned whether he’d done the right thing or not. “The door was unlocked.”
“Ah. I guess I forgot to lock it last night.”
At least he knew she did usually lock the doors. “Hope you don’t mind that I made coffee.”
“Mind? I’m grateful.” She hobbled over to the counter and hooked her cane over the edge, then pulled two mugs from the cabinet. “I’m assuming you want some?”
“Please.”
A few minutes later, she had joined Hayden at the table, and steaming mugs of fresh brew sat in front of them. “Thank you for bringing Riley home last night. I wouldn’t have wanted her to drive after seeing Tracey. Her relationship with her mother is complicated.”
“I got that impression.” He took a sip of coffee but didn’t inquire further. Usually Erma was a chatterbox, but her drawn, worried expression concerned him.
“Has she told you anything about Tracey?” Erma asked.
Hayden shook his head. “Not much, other than they moved around a lot when she was little.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Erma sighed. “My daughter has issues. I’m thankful she hasn’t passed them down to Riley. But Tracey’s inconsistent parenting has influenced her. It was unavoidable.” She pushed away her mug. “I also made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes that have turned into regrets.”
While he couldn’t relate to what Erma was saying, since he’d never been a parent, he did remember what Doug, his counselor, had said when Hayden was down on himself.
“‘We can only do our best with what we have to work with at the time,’” Hayden said.
Erma’s head jerked up and she smirked. “That’s quite profound. Did you read that on the internets?”
“Nope. A wise person told me. Over and over and over.” He lifted his mug and tilted it a bit toward her. “It’s pretty set in my noggin.”
“I need to set it in mine.”
Riley came shuffling into the kitchen, her hair wild around her face, as if she’d spent the night tossing and turning. The tank top and shorts she was wearing left little to the imagination—which got his imagination shifting gears and humming. He averted his gaze.
“Ahem,” Erma said. “Hayden’s here.”
Riley’s eyes widened. She glanced down at herself, then at Hayden, her cheeks heating. “Be right back.” She dashed out of the kitchen, and he could hear her running up the stairs.
