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“Sometimes. But mostly, no. That boy has sacrificed too much of his life because of me. He was already working two jobs and getting nowhere. I got by using my Social Security.” Nonnie’s words were raspy and growing more so, as though she was out of breath. Hands shaking, she picked up her glass of tea and took a sip, sloshing the liquid over her top lip and onto the lap of her cotton short-sleeved dress.
Got by. Past tense?
Addy had to get back to her work. The Hebers’ problems were not hers. Nothing in Shelter Valley belonged to her. With the exception of Will’s problem. That she’d agreed to take on.
Still, Nonnie Heber was new to town. By her own admission the woman was used to having people stop in and see her every day. People who likely heard the same stories Addy was hearing. Or renditions thereof.
The woman was lonely. Addy thought of Gran, those last years after she’d left for college. And of the neighborhood women who’d kept her grandmother company.
“I take more meds now.” Nonnie’s voice was fading. “Didn’t expect to live so long.”
Addy understood. “Social Security isn’t enough to cover the difference.”
The response earned her a self-deprecating smile. “Who knew I’d outlast Doc’s predictions?”
“You have to tell Mark. He’ll help you.”
“No!” Nonnie sat upright and winced. “My grandson has this scholarship. This chance. The house was just a building. A piece of property. In a town that won’t give him nothing more than he’s already had.”
“He mentioned going back there.”
“Probably would, too, if the house was there.”
Shrewd eyes appealed her to understand.
“You don’t want him to go back.”
“He has so much more to offer than that place can give him.”
“Shouldn’t that be his choice?”
“Should be, but it ain’t. He’s saddled with me.”
“He loves you.” She didn’t need to know him well to know that.
“And I love him. So I sold the house.” She paused to breathe. “The money’ll pay for my medicine. And my burial, too, when the time comes.”
“I still think you should tell him.”
“Not yet. But I had to tell someone. Thank you, young woman, for having compassion on an old woman. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to rest.”
With that, she closed her eyes. Addy rinsed their tea glasses and let herself out.
She should have asked Nonnie about Mark’s scholarship.
* * *
ON HIS BREAK, Mark texted Ella again. He sat in the student union and set up his new tablet, playing with the features. He signed on to Wi-Fi to register for a class bulletin board.
And tested internet speeds because...that’s the kind of thing he did. A guy had to know his specs.
As a test case, he typed in fires in the Denver, Colorado, area twenty-five years before. Just on a whim. Addy’s house fire was none of his business. Unless she chose to tell him about it.
He was only looking because he was studying fire safety and engineering. Because he was curious about the details of the fire in a purely scientific sense. And because he’d lost a friend to an explosion and could relate—if only minutely—to his new neighbor’s suffering.
He didn’t find anything.
* * *
