“Of course I will. What time is good for you?” Stevie asked.
“I’ve got a hair appointment in thirty minutes and a lunch with the Ladies Auxiliary at the church. Would two o’clock work, and do you think I should leave Fifi that long?” Gracie asked.
“Fifi will be fine, and I’ll come by at two,” Stevie said.
“That’s wonderful,” Gracie sighed. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother’s house. I heard that you’re living out there at the Sunflower Ranch in the bunkhouse with Cody Ryan. I don’t like to gossip, but…” She hesitated and then went on, “Do you think that’s a good idea? Folks in small towns talk. Not that I would ever say a word, but there’s already rumors going around about you and Cody.”
Stevie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and tried to keep her voice from betraying the way she really felt about people prying into her business. “I can take care of myself, Miz Gracie, but thank you so much for caring about me.”
“It’s the least I can do since your mother and I were such good friends,” Gracie said. “But if things don’t go well out there, I’ve got a spare bedroom I would be glad to rent to you.”
“Thank you, again. I’ll see you at two,” Stevie said and ended the call. “Like I’d rent a room from her. I’d be crazy as a loon before dark on the first day.” Stevie fumed as she picked up her crutches and headed out to the corral where the alpacas were kept these days. From the back door of the barn, she watched the two crias play for a few minutes, then closed the door and sat down on a bale of hay to pet Dolly and the kittens that had come out to greet her.
Her phone rang again, and the cats all scattered. Stevie pulled the phone from her hip pocket and a wide smile lit up her face when she saw Cody’s name on the screen. “Are you there yet?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah,” he answered. “They took Dad right in for an MRI, so I had a few minutes. Are you at the ranch house?”
“No, I’m in the barn. I’ve got a call out this afternoon,” she answered, and then told him about Fifi’s puppies.
“Those ought to be some weird-looking little dogs,” Cody laughed.
“I’m wondering if Gracie will make Eva pay puppy support because her corgi is the father,” Stevie said with half a giggle.
“Looks like it’s going to be a long day for both of us. Will you text me when you get back to the ranch?” Cody asked. “I still worry about you driving on that leg. Maybe Mia should go with you.”
“Yes, I will,” she answered. “But I can do this on my own, and Mia is helping Jesse today. You just worry about Sonny.”
“He’ll be ready for the hotel room by the end of the day. I’m glad there’s a restaurant attached to the hotel, so he won’t have to get in and out of the truck so much,” Cody said.
“That’s great.” Stevie frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think something is wrong?” Cody asked.
“I hear it in your voice,” she answered.
“Nothing is wrong, but on the way down here, I got to thinking about that old saying ‘Out of sight, out of mind,’” he told her.
“Am I about to lose my Sonic hamburger on the fourth date?” she teased, but tears welled up behind her eyelashes.
“Not at all. I know it sounds crazy, but I miss you,” Cody answered. “We don’t see each other for hours most days, but knowing we are this far apart…” He paused so long that she checked her phone screen to be sure she hadn’t lost service. “Well, that saying is bogus, Stevie. You are certainly not out of my mind.”
“I’m glad,” she said, and finally smiled.
“Here they are, bringing Dad out in a wheelchair,” Cody said. “Now we go across town for the next appointment. Talk to you later.”
“Be looking forward to it.” Stevie ended the call.
She went to the van, tossed her crutches across the back seats, and slid the side door open. Things were in such a jumble that it took her all morning to get everything back into order. When she was done, she got out, eased the door shut, hobbled over to the big barn door, and pushed it open.
A limp was to be expected, but she wasn’t doing too bad, so when she got back to the van, she put the crutches behind the seats and drove out of the barn. That done, she ignored the crutches and went back to close the door.
“The horse, Buttercup, didn’t get crutches,” she muttered, “and I’m as strong as she is.”
Stevie drove into town, stopped at the diner and had a plate of nachos for lunch, and still had an hour to kill before her appointment with Fifi, so she went home—to the house where she had grown up. She parked in the driveway, got out of the van, and left the crutches behind again. The house was coming down. There was no doubt about that, but she wanted to spend just a little more time inside to say goodbye.
When she had unlocked the door, she turned the knob and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. She had to get really tough with it but finally got it to open. Maybe that was an omen, she thought, something trying to tell her that she shouldn’t tempt fate by going inside again.
“I won’t stomp on the floor, and I will be careful,” she muttered as she gingerly stepped over the threshold.
The house was as cold as death, and the musty smell was even worse than it had been when she and Bobby had checked out the floor and drywall. “You really have died, haven’t you?” she said as she wandered back to her mother’s bedroom.
She was glad that she had taken all her mother’s clothing to a women’s shelter right before Christmas. There was no way she could have ever let strangers come into the house and go through her mother’s dresser drawers. But she was glad, too, that Pearl was going to get women she knew to come in and pack the kitchen stuff as well as what was salvageable out of the garage.
“I remember coming in from my senior prom and sitting in this rocking chair, Mama. You had gone to bed, and you were reading one of those thick romance books you loved. I told you that your Sunday school ladies would throw a hissy fit if they knew you were reading books like that”—Stevie smiled at the recollection—“and you told me that if it was all right with your father and all right with God, then you didn’t care what they thought.”
Stevie pulled back the lace curtains that now had mildew on the bottom. I should adopt that idea for my own, she thought. I’ll make things right with God and with Cody since we are trying to date, and everyone else can kiss my butt.
That’s not the way I said it. She could hear her mother giggling in her head.
“Nope, but it all means the same,” Stevie whispered.
She made her way from that bedroom to her own room across the hallway and peeked in the door. Her first memory was of feeding her stuffed dogs in that room. Then there was all the excitement of getting ready for her first day of school, the mixed feelings when she went away to college, and then weeping uncontrollably when she found out her mother was dying. Her life was in that one room.
“Goodbye,” she finally said and headed back toward the kitchen. What was in the upper cabinets was all salvageable, thank goodness. Her great-grandmother’s gravy boat and cookbooks, and her mother’s good china that Stevie’s dad had bought for her on one of their anniversaries. She ran a finger across the stack of plates and the fancy cups and sighed. At least she would have that much to take with her when she figured out where she would build her next home.