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Right. “You know how my attempt to leave for college went.” Well, the truth was, she’d been as reluctant to leave as Dad was hesitant of her going. It hadn’t taken much for her to withdraw her commitment to the University of Wisconsin. To say goodbye to plans for an environmental education and recreation degree when her dad had asked if she really wanted to go.
Vivien pressed her lips together. “He’s afraid.”
“I’m…afraid,” Beth whispered. “I’ve never not lived there. Every breakfast. The pad of his slippers down the hall. Reading the paper. Cooking dinner.”
“It’s well past time, though,” Courtney said.
“I never meant for it to happen—to end up approaching thirty and still be Daddy’s girl. But I am—and it’s all I know.” Beth lifted her hands. Dropped them.
Courtney blotted her lips with a napkin. “Change is hard.”
The tight coils of guilt wove around Beth and clamped down. “I assured him I’m not going far.” Most of her stuff would be staying right there, in her childhood bedroom.
Comfortable. Steady. Safe.
“This might be the best thing for both of you.” Vivie gave Beth’s arm a little squeeze. “What’s the verse in Deuteronomy? About the Lord goes before you? He will never leave you or forsake you?”
Except sometimes, that’s exactly what it felt like. Mom had forsaken her. Possibly God had too.
“I don’t think that applies to me,” Beth answered. “But I’m going to figure this out. I might not have my degree, but I can still have the career I wanted.” And never be far from home.
Vivie twisted her lips, studied Beth.
“What?”
“What was your plan for being married when you were engaged to Lyle?”
“What do you mean?”
“Before Lyle announced he was moving to Texas. Did you expect Lyle would move right into your dad’s house with you after the wedding?”
“Of course not,” Beth said. Except, well, she hadn’t ever thought that far ahead. Which should have been a red flag about their relationship. If she were honest with herself, maybe she hadn’t loved him like she thought she had.
Beth checked her watch. “Oh no! I’m late. I gotta go.” She gave them a wave and sprinted out the door of the theater.
Her day could only get better after starting it out as a corpse.
two
Not even thesmell of fresh-baked bread brought comfort to Grayson, despite the cavernous ache in his stomach when he entered Fox Bakery an hour later. He rubbed his knuckles against his chest to try to ease the constriction and squeezed his other hand around the handle of the gift bag he carried.
The sights and smells of the shop snapped him back to his youth, adding power and velocity to his nervous energy.
He removed his hat and looked over the changes since his last visit.
Bistro furniture had been added to the floor space, the upholstery and finish crisp and unscuffed. The Fox Bakery mural still took up a substantial chunk of the wall, looking out over the few patrons sitting and talking.
The family business enveloped him with both the familiar and the foreign. The same long display case. But through the swinging kitchen doors behind his sister, Robin, a shiny new oven gleamed.
Her auburn hair was pulled back, and she wore a bright white apron embroidered with the Fox logo. The sight of her made his heart ache and turned his mouth pasty.
She stood at the counter, her face turned down as she scribbled on the notepad in front of her. When the door rattled closed, she glanced up at her would-be customer.
“Grayson.” His name left her lips, soft and faint, like he was a specter. She set down her pen and wiped her hands on a towel. “Man, it’s been too long!”
“Hey. Yeah.” His answer sounded lame, even to himself.
“When did you get to town?” She walked right up to him. A small hesitation, then she threw her arms around him.
