Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

we’re leaving shortly . . . so don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thank you so much, hon,” she said, giving him a hug, and then, it suddenly dawned on Chase that the last thing his mom needed to do before her husband’s funeral service was go to the nursing home to collect her wheelchair-bound, memory-challenged father. “Mom,” he said, frowning, “how come you didn’t have Uncle Mike pick Dutch up?”

“Because I want to see what kind of day he’s having,” she replied, “and decide if he should go.”

Chase nodded. “Maybe he shouldn’t go,” he suggested softly. “You have a lot on your plate today.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but if he’s up to it, I’d like him to be there.”

Chase raised his eyebrows and eyed Gage—who nodded in understanding, suddenly struck by his younger brother’s gentle compassion and sensitivity to their mom’s needs.

“They said they’d have him dressed,” she continued distractedly, and then she looked up at Gage. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, mustering a smile.

50

THE STARS WERE SPARKLING IN THE NIGHT SKY WHEN MAEVE LOOKED OUT the window at 2 A.M. She’d gone to bed early and then proceeded to wake up every hour, on the hour. Now, she was afraid she might oversleep if she fell asleep again, so she got up.

On her way home from work the night before, she’d stopped at Macey’s to pick up the white blouse her sister had borrowed a month earlier. “You know, the summery one that doesn’t require ironing and will still look halfway decent when I get there,” she’d said.

“I can’t believe you’re driving all the way to Tennessee,” her sister had said when she came through the door. “Why didn’t you think of this before? You could’ve gone today and stayed in a hotel.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but I’ve been praying about it, and earlier today, I had an epiphany,” she said brightly, “and I’m just glad I had it before it was too late!”

Macey nodded. “I’m glad, too. How long does it take to get there and what time are you leaving?”

“I looked online and my phone app says it’ll take around six and a half hours, and since the service is at eleven, I’m planning to leave by three thirty in the morning, so I can allow time for traffic or stopping for a bathroom, which we both know I’ll need to do . . . at least twice!”

“Not if you don’t drink coffee,” Macey said.

“Mace, I’m getting up at 3 A.M. I will need coffee.”

Macey nodded. “Well, it’s good you’re going. Ben wishes he could go, too, but with Gage not around, they’ve been under the gun, trying to stay on schedule.”

“That reminds me,” Maeve said. “Can you take care of the chickens?”

“Why does ‘under the gun’ remind you of the chickens?”

Maeve shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know, but it did . . . so can you?”

“Of course,” Macey said. “Just one more thing for us to do on the first day of school.”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry,” Maeve said. “I completely forgot it was the first day of school! Well, on the bright side, you can take a photo of Harper surrounded by her favorite hens—that would make a cute first-day picture—you could even post it on Facebook.”

“Mm-hmm,” Macey said, sounding unconvinced. “Not a fan, remember?”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “Harper’s gonna have a Facebook page soon, and then you’ll have to reactivate your account so you can keep an eye on her.”

“I’ll let her aunt keep an eye on her. . . . Then I won’t be accused of snooping.”

Maeve laughed. “Well, I won’t be tattling,” she teased. “Oh, and don’t leave the gate open,” she reminded. “There’s no free-ranging—I don’t want anything to happen to them while they’re in my care. . . . And help yourself to eggs.”

“Got it,” Macey said.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Macey said.

“Okay, well, I better go,” Maeve said, giving her sister a hug.

“Okay. Safe travels. I hope it goes well. Tell Gage we’re thinking of him.”

“I will,” Maeve said, “if he’s talking to me.” And with that, she’d hurried out to her Jeep.

Now, wide awake at 2 A.M., she opened her laptop, clicked on her Facebook page, and realized she had a new friend request. Curiously, she clicked on it, and then smiled in surprise—it was from Mason. “Absolutely!” she said softly, clicking confirm. Then she scrolled through his page, smiling at the photos of him at all different ages, and with different friends—especially the pictures that kept popping up of him with a cute blond-haired girl who seemed to have been a fixture in his life since childhood . . . and who’d been tagged, revealing her name: Ali Harrison. “Hmm,” she mused thoughtfully, wondering if she was the friend he’d talked about. There were also photos of him running cross-country . . . and of him with Laurie, the wonderful woman he called Mom. His Facebook page was like a window into his life, and she was beyond thankful to be invited to look in. When she finally looked up from his page, though, she realized, in alarm, that half an hour had slipped by. She closed her laptop and hurried down the hall to shower.

SEVEN LONG HOURS LATER, MAEVE SLIPPED INTO THE LAST PEW OF A little white country church, overflowing with mourners, and looked up at the tall mullioned windows. Her drive had been uneventful, and even though she hadn’t had much coffee, she’d still had to stop. She looked around the simple sanctuary now, wondering if it was the same church Gage had attended when he was a boy. She checked her phone for the time, texted Macey that she’d made it, turned off the sound, and slipped it back in her pocket. She’d briefly considered wearing a dress, but the idea of driving seven hours and stopping at rest stops in a dress and nylons was a little daunting, so she’d opted for something simple—gray slacks and a white blouse with a light blue silk scarf tied loosely around her