Page 112 of After We Fall

I try to smile, feeling only the tips of my mouth lift.

Maybe. Maybe distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or maybe distance just confirms that you don’t need someone in your life. He’s only texted twice.

But this is a short trip. He’ll be home tonight. And this relationship is new. Luke is probably used to his space when he travels. I just have to learn what to expect.

“When does he get home?” Meredith asks.

“Any minute now.” I open the oven door and say to the pan of chicken, “He’s coming by for dinner.” After I place the dish on the trivet, I close the oven door and turn to find the Holcombes staring at me with looks of amusement and awe.

“You’re cooking?” Meredith asks.

“What?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can cook. How hard is it? You follow instructions. I excel at following instructions.”

Meredith takes me by the shoulders and pulls me in for a hug. “I like that Luke brings out this side of you,” she whispers into my ear. She pulls back. “Other than Luke, will you please keep the pregnancy to yourself? It’s so high-risk, and we need a little time to think through the details. We aren’t quite sure yet when to tell everyone. Alex is so little, we don’t want to get her hopes up—but if I’m bedbound soon, that might not be up to us. Plus, I’ve had so many lost pregnancies in the past.” Her voice breaks, and her eyes fill with moisture. “It’s just hard to know who to involve, and at what point.”

“It’s safe with us, Meredith. But will you let me know if you need anything?”

“I don’t want to put stress on you, Penelope. It seems like your headaches have gotten better, but you aren’t one to share when you’re not doing well.”

I glance away. No, I’m not one to share. Still. “I’ll make a deal with you. You tell me what you need, and if I’m not up to it, I’ll find a discreet way to get someone else to help you out.”

Meredith squeezes my shoulders and releases them. “It sounds like a deal.”

Harlan puts an arm around Meredith’s waist. “You know what we need is to find someone for the program director slot. And soon.” He looks at me. “Did Meredith tell you that Claire officially declined the position? Her mother’s not well, and she needs to stay in Dallas.”

Meredith looks up at him. “I’m not going to be able to travel as much, am I? Darn it. I think this is going to be a tough cancer diagnosis for Claire’s mom. I was hoping I could fly out and be with the Starks every so often while they walk through this.”

“No, sweetheart, you aren’t going to be able to do that.” He shifts his focus back to me. “And Meredith’s not going to be as hands-on as she wants to be with Twelve Bluebells. So we need to find someone soon.”

My heart pumps quickly, and I take a breath to calm my pulse. Maybe I should just tell them now that I would like to be considered for the job. I was planning to wait and figure out the perfect way to pitch the idea. But this moment feels like it was dropped in my lap.

But then Tanya enters the room, her shoulders slouched with burden and exhaustion. Possibly something to do with her pea-green scrubs being decorated with an orange stain over her left shoulder.

The opportunity to discuss my future with the Holcombes slips away with everyone’s greetings to Tanya. I sigh, hoping I can find the right approach, the right time to act, and the courage to follow through.

“We’re going to let you go.” Meredith squeezes my arm as they turn to leave. “Have a fun dinner.”

I look at Tanya and nod at the stain. “Tough day at the old folks’ home?”

She sighs. “Mrs. Leibowitz threw her Jell-O at me again.”

“Did she say why this time?”

“I couldn’t find her hair ribbon. I told her I canvassed her room and it was nowhere to be found. But her daughter Martha explained later that Mrs. Leibowitz hasn’t worn a ribbon in her hair since she was a little girl. I guess it’s more of that dementia.”

Full-time employment is required for residents of the ranch. I once asked Tanya why she chose to work in the Alzheimer’s unit of a retirement community. She said she’d lived her entire life with her mother forgetting to pay the rent or to feed her children, but the people in that community didn’t have a choice in what they forgot. It felt good to her to help someone who didn’t mean to forget things. That might have been the moment I fell for Tanya Purtle.

But right now, I’m rethinking something she just said. I cock my head. “What did you say about her room?”

“I canvassed it. I looked everywhere. In between the mattresses, behind the dresser, inside her books. Everywhere.”

“You looked everywhere. Searched everywhere. Canvassed the room.”

“Yesssss?” She stretches out the word with a little exasperation, clearly not knowing where I’m taking this conversation.

I stand directly in front of her and cross my arms. “True or false: You know what the word ‘canvass’ means.”

“You know I know what it means. I just used it.”