“Girl!” she called. “You finish that, and then come talk to me.” Her gaze flicked to her grandson and his friends, her eyes narrowing. “I’d like to hear about your time in France.”
With a subtle nod, I moved back through the room, to the van in the driveway. It took three trips before we had everything laid out. Once finished, Rebecca took the appetizers to the kitchen to heat while I began setting up the cakes. They were simple cakes, elaborate in detail but not in size. They were homes, two houses, one of them a replica of the Vincent home and barn, the other a reproduction of the hardware store and gas station. I’d added trees to the Vincent home, the small building in the woods visible through the foliage. There were tons of tiny details, some of them barely noticeable, but there. A pair of sneakers rested by the front door, and a splayed deck of poker cards rested on a table in the yard.
Heathcliff’s mom stepped toward me, peering down at the cakes as I finished, her eyes softening. “This isn’t what I asked for,” she said.
“I know—”
“It’s better,” Lynn interrupted. Her hand found my back, her fingers curling into my dress. “I can almost see Mams outside, her hands on her hips, calling out to Paps. Trying to get him back to house for supper from the hooch.” She glanced at me. “This is incredible, Hawthorne. Thank you.”
“Girl!” Mams cried. Lynn’s brows rose, and we both laughed, my gaze going to the old woman’s wheelchair. “If you’re done, you can come sit with me now!”
Lynn released me, and I pushed my way across the room to Mams’ wheelchair. She patted the floor next to her, and I pulled my dress out, arranging it so that I could sit down as delicately as possible.
“I haven’t sat like this in years,” I told Mams.
I was grossly aware of Heathcliff, his friend, and his ex-girlfriend behind us, their voices hushed. Mams seemed deeply satisfied with her proximity to her grandson despite his obvious need to remain aloof.
“You’re lookin’ well, girl,” she said.
“No different than when you saw me a few weeks ago,” I replied.
She grinned, her skin crinkling. “I forgot how that college education gave you a sharper mouth. I like it. Reminds me of me when I was your age.”
I laughed. “My tongue is nothing compared to Rebecca’s.”
She leaned over the side of her chair. “No, yours is just enough, girl. Always remember that. A tongue should be sharp, but it should also know when to grow dull.”
I stared up at her. “Someone should write down all those tidbits of wisdom you’re always sprouting.”
She patted the arm of her chair. “You’ve made an old woman proud, Hawthorne. I just wanted you to know that in case my mind goes to wanderin’, and I can’t recall enough to remember to say it.”
I’m not sure what made me touch Mams. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never attempted it. Even as wise as she was, she’d never been a duly affectionate woman, but my hand was suddenly over hers on the chair, my gaze coming up to meet her equally shocked stare.
“Say hello to Uncle Gregor for me,” I said.
Mams’ eyes grew bright. “I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ that man. You’ve been through a lot when you were young, girl. I think it’s prepared you more for adulthood than those who never went through anythin’. Lean on that.”
She leaned even closer, and I moved to meet her.
“Save him,” Mams’ whispered. “We’re going to lose him if you don’t.”
She sat back, and I stared at her. I didn’t have to glance behind me to know who she was talking about.
“How?” I asked.
She smiled. “You’ll know.”
Heathcliff’s dad shouted from the front of the room, and a cheer rose up, claps and celebratory hollers rolling through the space as everyone turned toward Mams. I chose that moment to sneak away, rising slowly and edging along the wall. For the first time in a long time, even as alone as I was in life, I realized how much I was loved. None of the people who cared about me were family, but somehow that made it more special.
My voice rose with the crowd, my laughter joining theirs even as I moved away to stand with Rebecca. Rebecca’s hand fell, grasping mine and squeezing before letting go.
There’s love, and then there’s love. There’s the passionate kind of love between two people who care about each other, and then there’s the care about you kind of love. The first kind takes you on an incredible ride, but the second kind is often stronger and harder to break.
Chapter 25
The party was never-ending, the family determined to stay as long as they possibly could, as if leaving meant the end of all of them together with Mams. I knew that feeling. I’d lived that feeling.