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Her heart dropped. Troy stood next to the front door. Hannah knew she only had a few minutes before everyone else showed up.
“Stay here,” she said to Emma. “Let me find out what he wants.”
Emma didn’t complain. She wasn’t close with Troy, hadn’t spent any real time with him in years.
When she got out of the car, he started toward her. He held a yellow envelope in his hand, his face livid. “You’re divorcing me?”
He threw the envelope at her feet.
She stopped where she was, looking around nervously. “Troy, please leave.”
“As far as I know, this is a free country. I can stand wherever I damn well please.” His face darkened. She could smell the booze.
“Mom?” Emma called from the car window. She sounded scared. “Is everything okay?”
“Stay in the car, Emma.” Her heart pounded as she hissed at Troy, “Iwillcall the police if you don’t go.”
He spit on the envelope, and Hannah jumped a little. Then he walked away. She didn’t take a breath until he got into his truck and pulled away.
Just as he was leaving, the Gundersons pulled in. Troy slowed down, revving his engine and then squealing his tires before peeling out of the parking lot.
Hannah reached down to pick up the envelope and saw one of her neighbors watching from behind her curtain. She could feel her eyes welling up from the swift progression of fear and relief. She pulled in a deep breath before she turned around to face the others. She smiled reassuringly at Emma, whose eyes were still wide with alarm.
Jake and Jesse got out and rushed toward her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
“Let’s go inside.”
She couldn’t look at Jake, embarrassed once again. But she wasn’t going to let Troy ruin this day for her and Emma. No, this was the day they were not only moving out, but moving forward as a family. If anything, this moment with Troy marked an end to the era of Hannah letting other people control her emotions.
As she walked into her apartment, she looked down inside the envelope and found the divorce decree ripped to pieces. Well, Troy could rip up the papers all he wanted, but as far as Hannah was concerned, she was now free.
After most of the larger pieces of furniture had been taken, Hannah looked at the half-empty apartment as Emma packed up her room. She remembered being so frightened the first night she’d moved in, new noises, more traffic, and strange people talking next door. She had felt very young and very scared.
After the last of the boxes had been packed and moved, everyone congregated around the table at the farm. Hannah’s heart swelled. If someone had asked what she most wished for, it would have been this moment, right here in this kitchen, everyone sitting together, praying together, talking together as one big family.
When dinner was over, everyone sat on the back porch drinking coffee and tea, talking about the fields and the cows. Country music played in the background as the kids chased lightning bugs in the back yard.
Hannah couldn’t place the feeling she’d had all night. It was a floating feeling, and she kept holding onto things to ground herself. Each time Jake snuck a glance her way, the feeling grew, the electricity between them connecting them in a way that was totally new.
When it was time for him to leave, she walked him out and thanked him for his help. The intensity of his gaze warmed her neck, and something swirled inside her that she had never felt before, an excitement like being on a rollercoaster ride. She found herself struggling to concentrate on his words.
“Maybe you’d like to go for a walk with me tomorrow?” he asked, walking backwards to face her.
“That sounds nice.” She was sure her heart would explode when he smiled at her.
As she walked back up the drive, she refused to let any worries about Troy take root. She had butterflies of memories of Jake, and butterflies of excitement for her new apartment, her new balcony, and a new life for her and Emma.
When she finally dragged Emma inside for the night, she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, her mumbledI love youbarely audible.
Hannah opened the couch out into a bed. She’d willingly given the only bedroom over to her daughter, who at nearly 13 needed the privacy more than she did.
The next morning, she rose early and just sat looking around the apartment. The small space felt cozy and warm, the wood-paneled walls glowing with fresh polish, the furniture old but well cared for.
“That’s where John and I lived when we first got married,” Maggie explained that morning at the breakfast table. Emma stood by the screen door, waiting for the bus, letting the cooler morning air sigh into the room.
“You did?”
