The older woman moved toward the door. “The train for milkshakes is leaving now. Anyone going to hop on board?”
“Me!” Lucy grabbed hold of her sister’s hand. “Stehwaa, too.”
Amber’s heart sank. Stella looked like she’d rather eat live worms. Her babies had made so many sacrifices so she could finish school and get a good job.
Doing her best to ignore Ethan and her zinging pulse, Amber ushered the odd trio to the elevator.
Until Miss ErmaJean offered to take care of Lucy and Stella, she’d struggled to juggle her waitress job, single parenting and nursing school. It was good of Miss GeorgeAnne to babysit the girls, but with ErmaJean out of commission, tonight would have to be her last class.
The twins and Miss GeorgeAnne stepped into the elevator.
Only two months left till graduation. But there was no other option. She’d have to withdraw from the program.
Lucy waved goodbye. Stella glowered. As the elevator doors closed, the rest of Amber’s life stretched out before her in a bleak panorama.
Endless shifts at the Mason Jar. The broken-down trailer. Never quite making ends meet. Once again, it would be her girls who suffered the most for her mistakes.
Her shoulders slumped. She was so tired of battling life alone. “Is this all there ever will be for me and the girls, God?” she whispered.
She passed her hand over her face. It wasn’t like Amber to be melancholy. She was a fighter. Scrappy, Ethan used to say. But right now, she felt the fight had been beaten out of her.
Yet she wasn’t alone. She had wonderful friends like Miss ErmaJean and Callie. God had never left her. He wouldn’t fail her now, even with this seemingly insurmountable setback.
After all this time, seeing Ethan revived memories and dreams she’d believed long buried. Emotions she had no time, energy or right to feel. And Ethan wanted to take ErmaJean away for good?
It felt like the final straw. His grandmother had become a mentor, confidante and friend. If only there was a way to convince him to let Miss ErmaJean convalesce at home.
Who was she kidding? Amber couldn’t get her own life on track. Why did she think she had the right to tell anyone else how to live theirs?
With the departure of GeorgeAnne, Amber and her daughters, Ethan turned again toward his grandmother. “You were watching the girls when you fell, Grandma?”
“It wasn’t their fault.” At the hint of censure in his voice, his grandmother pressed her lips together. “And nothing makes me happier than seeing their bright little faces.”
Of late, when he’d called she’d seemed distracted—not all there. Half the time, she forgot to return his calls. And after a friend’s mother was diagnosed with dementia, he’d begun to fear his beloved grandmother was slipping.
Ethan hugged her now. Reassured by the usual lavender scent that always clung to her. Somehow he’d feared she’d be frailer. Or her mind not as sharp.
But Grandma wasn’t any frailer than he remembered. Her mind... Well... ErmaJean Hicks would never be accused of thinking like everybody else.
“How did you fall? Were you dizzy? Did you lose your balance?”
She fluttered her hand. “I was in a hurry. Tripped over my own clumsy feet on the back steps.”
“It makes me sick to think about something happening and me not being here, Grandma.”
She scanned his face. “A situation easily remedied.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future lately.”
She clasped her hands to her heart. “Oh, Ethan, I’ve been hoping, praying, you would.”
He pulled a chair close to the bed. “Remember how much fun we had the last time you visited me in Wilmington?”
Confusion darkened her eyes. “Ice cream. Sand between my toes. Life is a beach.”
“You know I like working with my hands.”
“Granddad always hoped one day you’d take over—”
“A buddy of mine is starting his own boat repair business and has offered me a job.”
Her hands fell to her lap. “I’m guessing boat repair means the job is on the coast.”
“You said it yourself, Grandma—life is a beach.”
“I misspoke. Vacation is a beach.” Her expression clouded. “Life is home. I was hoping when you finally decided to settle down—”
“Truelove was never an option for me, and you know it.”
She gnashed her teeth. “What I know is you’re stubborn, obstinate and aggravating.”
“Home is family. And you’re the only family I’ve ever had.”
She lifted her chin. “GeorgeAnne, IdaLee and I have some ideas on how you could remedy that situation.”
The sheer thought of the matchmakers plotting to pair him to some Truelove girl was almost enough to send Ethan running for his Harley motorcycle. Or break out in hives.
Instead—as a Marine he’d been taught not to flee in the face of peril—he found his grandmother’s hand through the bedrail. “Now that I’m stateside for good, I want us to spend more time together.”
Her lips pursed. “That will be difficult with you six hours away.”
Ethan set his jaw. “Which is why I’d like for you to relocate to the beach.”
She pulled her hand from his. “Out of the question.”
“Hear me out, Grandma. I’ve done my research. There is a great senior adult village near my apartment. You’d love the cottages. A sweet deal, right on the water. You’d have your own little garden for your flowers. I’ve got photos on my—”
“Absolutely not.” She steepled her hands in her lap. “My life is here, Ethan. My friends. My church. The family business. They’re all here.”
What family business? Although his grandmother had continued to work on upholstery projects here and there, his grandfather’s furniture restoration workshop had gathered dust since his death.
Ethan shook his head. “You’ve worked hard your entire life. With this new job, I can take care of you. You can retire and enjoy life for a change.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m enjoying life right where I’m planted.”
“You’re the friendliest person I’ve ever known. You’ll make lots of friends. There are amazing churches at the beach.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And you would know that how, Ethan?”
Okay, she had him there. He hadn’t sat in a church pew since he left Truelove.
Grandma’s chin wobbled. “Besides, I could never leave your grandfather.”
Ethan took a long, measured breath. “Granddad has been dead a long time. I don’t like to think of you living here alone with me so far away.” He gestured at the bed. “Changes need to be made.”
Grandma stiffened. “I have good friends to watch out for me.”
“The house has to be getting too much for you. And you must get lonely.”
“Are you sure it’s not you who’s lonely?”