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Izzy appeared with the woman in question, and it was immediately obvious she was Drake’s mother. Even from my vantage point, Nora’s eyes—the same eyes that she had clearly gifted to her son—grabbed hold of me. Eyes that were dimmed by time and circumstances, I would wager to guess.
I said nothing at first. I took time to observe the tall woman with a willowy figure and silver bobbed hair. She was dressed simply in a camel wool coat and black slacks with a cream sweater. She exuded grace, but there was something stoic about her demeanor. She was studying me in much the same manner I was studying her. I wondered if she, like so many, thought Drake could do better. Perhaps she, too, thought I looked more like a child than a woman.
“Char, this is Nora Foster,” Izzy interrupted my study of Drake’s mother.
“Hello,” I managed to get out.
“I’m sorry to show up unannounced, but I need to speak to you.” She looked around the ballroom. “I needed to come to this place.” Her voice shook.
That I could understand. This placed called to me in inexplicable ways. How odd that Drake’s mother felt the same pull. It had to mean something, right?
“I’ll come down.”
Izzy stared wide-eyed at me as I started my descent. She was silently saying, What the heck? Well, she was probably using another four-letter word.
I felt the same way. My heart was about to break free of my chest as I made my way down the scaffolding on shaky legs. I was grateful Jameson was at school. I desperately wanted to call Drake, but he was probably rushing to the airport right about now.
“I’ll go make some coffee,” Izzy offered.
“That would be lovely. Thank you,” Nora said.
I wanted to beg Izzy to stay but knew Nora probably wanted to have a private conversation.
I cautiously approached. “We can sit in the parlor, if you would like.”
She nodded gratefully.
“I can take your coat for you.”
She fluidly removed it and handed it to me. “Thank you.”
I was hit with the smell of gardenias as we headed across the hall to the parlor. I hung her coat on the coatrack on our way.
“Please have a seat.” I waved my hand toward the furniture.
She took my favorite comfy chair near the fire. I sat opposite her on the couch. I fidgeted in my seat and wrung my hands, not knowing what to say. She, too, seemed to be gathering her words as she looked around my beloved place.
“You’ve updated the inn,” she commented.
“We’re working on it.”
“It looks lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“I was shocked when Drake told me you own the place now.”
“You’ve talked to Drake? Does he know you’re here?” The next time I saw him, I was going to wring his neck for not telling me. You know, after I kissed him until there was no breath left in me.
“We briefly talked. We aren’t exactly the best when it comes to communicating,” she strained to say. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I didn’t even know I was going to come here. That probably sounds crazy.”
“It doesn’t.” I smiled. “This place has a way of calling to people.”
She clasped her hands and rested them in her lap. “Yes, it does. I’ve thought of this place so often over the years.” Obviously, Drake must have mentioned that I knew she’d stayed here.
“It’s a special place.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “A place of hope, or at least I thought it was,” she choked out.
Oh man, I wanted to be so nosy and ask all the questions about her and Calvin. About their family. And, you know, could she make her son feel better so I could get my mostly happily ever after?
“It is a place of hope. Sometimes that hope just requires a lot of faith.”
“I’m afraid I lost my faith a long time ago. But I didn’t come here to talk about me.”
That was too bad, because that’s all I wanted to talk about. “Why did you come?”
“Well . . . ,” she seemed hesitant to say. “I was hoping to meet my grandson,” her voice hitched, “and the woman who has obviously had an incredible impact on my son.”
“I don’t know about that . . . I mean, unless you’re talking about someone other than me.”
She laughed a muted laugh. I got the vibe that she was reserved, or perhaps hadn’t laughed in a long time.
“You have, without a doubt, affected my son. I hardly recognized him in this last round of interviews he’s done.”
“I would say that’s mostly Jameson.”
“Jameson,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s a pain that never goes away. So much lost time I will never have back.” Her eyes watered.
“You don’t have to lose any more time with Drake . . . or Jameson. I would like you to meet him, be a part of his life.”
