“What do you know of women?” I bite back.
“That they don’t say what they mean. Women speak a lot in what’s not said.”
I never knew my grandma. She left my grandpa, just like my mom left my dad. Apparently, the Carter men don’t have a great track record of listening for what’s unsaid.
“But—”
Grandpa snorts. “Listen, son. Women don’t always want rescuing. Sometimes they want to prove they can survive without you—even when it costs them.”
I wonder what experience my grandpa has with what he’s just said. He doesn’t speak of Rose even though he still has a photo of them hanging in the living room. A simple black-and-white portrait of a stronger, younger version of him standing beside a woman with light hair and round eyes. I used to stare at that picture when I was younger, squinting hard trying to find pieces of myself in my grandma—wondering where she was and who she became. But I never asked. It’s not something you ask Grandpa.
Choices have consequences—costs. I know mine.
“The accident,” I say, letting Grandpa fill in the gaps.
“It was hard on her,” he admits. “But you know Sadie. She picked herself up by the bootstraps and did what had to be done. That girl isn’t afraid to take on the problems of others—family or otherwise.”
I nod. “I should have at least called.”
“What did I say about shouldas?”
I try to smile, but my lips falter.
My grandpa lets out a sigh. “If there’s one thing about Sadie Summers, it’s that you can count on her.”
And while I know that’s true, I don’t want to count on Sadie Summers. I want her to know I messed up. That I regret she couldn’t count on me, but she can now.
I take a sip of the bitter coffee and wince.
7
SADIE
The aromaof lumber and varnish fills my lungs as I take a deep breath. Hank’s Hardware hasn’t ever changed. It’s the place I picked out a sky blue for my bedroom walls when Sophie picked out bright pink and Emma chose green. It’s where Milo and I bought wood, nails, and chain thinking we could build my parents a pretty porch swing for Christmas. As soon as my parents sat in it with gracious grins, it plummeted to the ground and fell into pieces, sending us all into fits of laughter.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I automatically type in my passcode, the text coming to life on my screen.
Tessa G
Hey, Sadie! Bethany just got engaged! YAY! Could you put together an engagement shower at the church? Maybe in a couple weeks?
I don’t even know Bethany that well, or Tessa, for that matter. These are girls who are younger than Sophie, but I swipe over to my calendar.
Sadie
How about Sunday, June 14th? 2 p.m.? Maybe white lilies and finger sandwiches?
Tessa G
That sounds perfect. Can you make your famous strawberry punch?
I look down at my sandals. I’d sure love to be my comfortable brown sandals right now. No worries. No engagement parties. No responsibilities except for being sandals . . .
“What are you looking for, Sadie?” The question disturbs another moment wanting to trade my life for the life of an inanimate object.
I turn to Grant, who now runs Hank’s Hardware, the fourth in his family to own it. Everyone takes on their family business. It’s what you do in a small town.
“Hey, Grant. I need some sandpaper and stain. I’m not sure the color. I was fostering some puppies when a couple broke free and chewed up my trim.”
