Mia glanced away from her grandmother’s piercing look, the look that always saw far more than the average person.
“Gran, I’m not ready to go. I can’t fix my hair or put on makeup. I can’t...”
“Face your pain?” Granny Myrna got right to the heart of things, the way she always did.
“I’m not sure.”
“Of course, you are. You know that you’re angry. You know that you’re hurt. You called out to God and you think he didn’t answer. That’s understandable. What isn’t understandable to me is how the strongest young woman I know could sit in this house and give up.”
“I haven’t given up.”
“No?”
“No.” Mia pushed the coffeepot because it was tilted on the heating element and about to spill out over the lid. “I’m not hiding. I’m just trying to get my head on straight.”
“I know that I can’t convince you that God was there that night, Mia, but He was. He didn’t leave you or ignore you. It just feels that way right now. You might never know why things happened the way they did. You might always feel a little angry, a little confused. But God can get you through the anger, too.”
“I love you, Gran.”
“Of course you do. I’m very easy to love. And I’m almost always right. Now don’t tell people I confessed to the ‘almost’ part. I’m just sharing that with you, and I’ll deny it if you tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell a soul.”
“Then come to church with me. You can take your anger there. It’s safe. And you might find a little peace to go with the anger.”
“You’re pushy.”
“It’s one of the perks of being eighty-five. And we have plenty of time. I’ll have coffee, you drink that nasty tea of yours and then I’ll help you get ready.”
Mia leaned to kiss her grandmother’s softly wrinkled cheek. “I am so glad you’re my grandmother.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so very glad you’re my granddaughter. And by the way, now that you’re home for a little while, maybe you can do something about Slade McKennon.”
“Why?”
“He’s far too good-looking to be eating alone at the Mad Cow. Don’t you think?”
“I’ll try to think of someone to fix him up with.” She smiled as she wiped up the counter. She knew that wasn’t what her grandmother meant, but it was all she could handle right now.
“You would want him to date someone else?”
“Gran, Slade is my friend—nothing more.” She thought about his hand on hers, and the memory took her by surprise. She and Slade had always been just friends. They’d shared a childhood, shared memories, shared grief.
The thought of anything more with Slade... She shook her head. Slade belonged to Vicki.
She led her grandmother to the patio and the two of them sat down. The sun had climbed higher and their shade wouldn’t last much longer. Mia closed her computer to keep her grandmother from seeing too much. Not that Mia had found anything. Breezy didn’t seem to exist.
What if something had happened to her sister? What if...
She picked up her cup and took a drink of the now-tepid tea. The thought that Breezy might be gone, perhaps had been gone for years without Mia knowing, continued to haunt her.
“Mia?”
She opened her eyes and smiled at her grandmother. The confession slipped out. “I’m searching for my sister.”
Granny Myrna set her coffee down with a thunk, slopping the brown liquid over the edge of the cup onto the table.
“Well, that wasn’t what I expected.”
Mia half smiled. “I know. I’ve tried over the years but now that I have plenty of time, I’m really digging.”
“But not finding her?”
“No.”
“You will. You’re the best detective I know.”
“Do you know a lot of detectives, Gran?”
“Well, not many, but you’re the best.” Her grandmother glanced at the delicate watch that had been her eightieth-birthday present from Tim and Angie Cooper. “We need to get you ready to go.”
Mia looked down at her sweats and the T-shirt she’d pulled on that morning. “This doesn’t work for you?”
“Let’s see if we can’t find a skirt to pull on with that shirt and not the sweatpants that I think you wore for gym class a dozen years ago.”
“They’re comfy.”
“They do look comfy, but no.” Granny Myrna stood and gathered up their cups. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Mia left the house fifteen minutes later looking what her grandmother called “presentable” in a peasant skirt, flip-flops and the dark red T-shirt she’d put on that morning. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and Granny Myrna had even done a decent job with lip gloss and mascara.
When they pulled into the church parking lot, Mia felt a sense of coming home mixed with a healthy dose of nerves. She looked up at the steeple and thought about all the angry words she’d screamed the night Butch died in her arms. She thought about bargains she’d made, bargains that God had ignored.
“Time to go in.” Her grandmother pulled the keys out of the ignition. “All to Jesus, I surrender.”
Mia gathered her purse and Bible. “Even anger?”
“Even anger.”
They walked up the steps of the church, her grandmother holding the rail. Mia slowed her steps, realizing with an ache that her granny didn’t move as quickly as she used to. In the spring she’d even had a few ministrokes.
At the top of the steps stood Slade McKennon and his little boy, Caleb. She smiled at the five-year-old boy with the blond hair because it was easier to look at him than at his father. Caleb, Vicki’s baby.
She remembered holding him at Vicki’s funeral, cuddling him close. When she looked up from Caleb to meet Slade’s gray eyes, she knew that he’d gone back in time, too. He managed a smile. Hers was slower to return.
“Good to see you here.”
“Thank you.” She looked past him into the church. “It’s good to be here.”
Behind her, Granny Myrna prodded her forward. “Slade and Caleb are going to ring the bell. We need to find a seat.”
Find a seat? Mia smiled at that. The Coopers sat on the second pew from the front. It wasn’t their pew. If visitors showed up, the Cooper clan moved. But most of the time, you’d find them there, sitting together. A few of the kids missed church from time to time. Heather went to church in Grove. She liked the anonymity of going to a big church. Blake Cooper, second to the oldest of the kids, sometimes had business that kept him out of town.
Gage and Dylan traveled a lot, bull riding or providing livestock for rodeos and bull rides. Bryan, the youngest brother, was in South America on a mission trip.
Mia called it his “guilt trip.” He had made a mistake, like so many other kids, and now he felt he had to pay for it.
Caleb reached for her hand as she eased past father and son. “Do you know I’m in school now?”
She smiled down at him. “I heard that. Do you like it?”
Vicki had always wanted half a dozen kids. Caleb should have been one of many.