Avery closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “This isn’t grieving. This is...”
“...being confused.” Her mother turned to catch Avery’s stare. “I get it. I’ve been there. Let me tell you something. The more time you lose figuring out what you want, the harder it is to go for it. Once you stop, it’s hard to get started again.”
“I’m not confused. I’m sad, Mama. Heartbroken. I can’t even believe this conversation.” Avery yanked open the magazine she’d picked up off the stack, the cute-dogs one, and flipped it open to study the table of contents, a weak sizzle of anger fizzling quickly.
Her mother cared even if she didn’t understand.
The short flight to Knoxville was so easy that Avery had to sit back and think how long it had been since she’d flown. At least seven years. Maybe her first step should be a real trip, one without her mother. She did not want a weeklong lecture about the dangers of foreign toe rot.
The Knoxville airport was easy to navigate, but Avery was breathing hard and feeling the strain all through her body by the time she and her mother made it through baggage claim and to her mother’s small SUV. With the last push of her strength, Avery loaded the bags and staggered around to the passenger side to flop down in the seat.
Her mother, instead of showing signs of fatigue, was perking up. “Want to eat before we head home?”
“No.” Avery covered her forehead with one hand. “Let’s pick something up, if you want.”
If she had to get out of the car anywhere other than her mother’s driveway, she’d stumble. Her mother didn’t need to deal with that scare right now.
As they left the city behind and the road wound through the rolling hills toward the Great Smoky Mountains in the distance, Avery breathed deeply and memorized the dense forests, the running streams and the way the mountains rose behind Sweetwater all over again. If there was any place in the world that would feed her the energy that had been slowly drained over years of distance and struggle, it was this one.
“Need some rain. Fall color’s off, all the dry, dead leaves,” her mother said, “but it’s still the prettiest place on the planet.” Avery had loved so much of Chicago, but it was impossible to argue with her mother.
Avery turned on the radio and the country music that flowed out of the speakers made it easy to relax through the curves that her mom handled like a race-car driver. Whatever came next, this was the right decision.
“Thanks for coming to get me, Mama,” Avery said softly. She might have stayed in that house until they’d kicked her out and in Chicago until she faded away. Already Avery could feel the color in this world.
“I should have come sooner.” Her mother’s lips trembled and she flapped her hand in front of her face like she’d done anytime tears threatened for as long as Avery could remember. “And I want everything for you, Avery, all you ever wanted.”
“I was fine. I’m fine.” Avery had assured her mother she was coping with every phone call.
Her mother’s snort was easy to understand. “You’re not fine, honey. But that’s okay. You will be.” The grim set of her lips was worrying, but Avery didn’t have the right words to convince her otherwise.
And the way she felt, she needed to conserve her energy. They passed the tourist draw of Gatlinburg and wound north before turning off to stop outside Sweetwater. As her mother drove down the lane to her farmhouse, Avery was relieved that almost everything outside was the same. “What happened to the oak?” It had once been home to a rope swing and the beginnings of a tree house that her father had started but never finished.
“Storm came through. I told you that.” Her mother waved a hand as she slid out of the SUV. “Maybe not. I thought it might depress you.”
And we both know I don’t need to be any more depressed.
“Had to call in a tree service. Sammy was too concerned about how close it was to the house to try to take care of it himself.” Her mother yanked open the back of the SUV and started unloading the bags. “Plus, it was in the park’s busy season. Kid works as many hours as he can.”
Kid? Samuel Blackburn was exactly Avery’s age, definitely old enough to have outlived “kid.” He’d been the thorn in her side growing up, but his mother was still Janet Abernathy’s best friend.
“After we get you settled, I’ll run over and let Regina know I’m home. She’s been watching the place for me.” Her mother hustled up the four steps to the wide front porch and unlocked the front door. “Need to get you a new key made. Had the locks replaced after I had the renovations done.” She paused in front of the grand entryway and said, “The new foyer.”
“It’s lovely.” The old wallpaper was gone. Gleaming hardwoods were stained dark, and the front room was done up in grays and blues. “I could spend all day in here with a book.”
Her mother pointed up the stairs. “Your room is ready. You go take a nap. You look tired. I’ll see about dinner and let Regina know we made it in.”
Before she could disappear, Avery wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for letting me come home.”
Her mother sniffed. “Girl, if you make my mascara run, we will both be sorry.”
Avery squeezed her again and then let go. “Now, do I need to be worried about toe rot in my room?”
“Only if you brought it in,” her mother said as she narrowed her eyes. “You bring any rot at all into my place and we will have words.” She waved and then stepped back out on the porch.
Avery was still smiling when she opened the door to her old room. The linens and paint were different. All her awards had been boxed up, but the afternoon light through the window that warmed her favorite spot in the world, the window seat that used to overlook the old oak, was exactly the same.
Her phone rang and she didn’t even pull it out of her purse. She knew who was calling, the only one of her friends who still made the effort. Maria Benton had been one of the lawyers fighting for people who needed them most in Chicago’s Legal Aid. She’d spent the time Avery had volunteered there testing her and encouraging her, and when Robert had been diagnosed, she’d been Avery’s most loyal friend.
And for two years, she’d called and left messages and never once accepted Avery’s excuses for why her return calls were so very few. It hurt to talk to Maria. It hurt to remember that old life.
Today, Avery was going to put off until the day after tomorrow what she couldn’t face today. She was home now. She’d have more energy any day now. That was the day to call Maria. Until then, there was voice mail.
Avery dumped her bags on the floor and sprawled sideways on the queen-size bed. A nap. Then she’d get started on figuring out the rest of her life.
SAM BLACKBURN HAD climbed The Eagle Nest so many times in his life that it had lost some of the thrill. Doing it in the fine mist that Sunday afternoon certainly added a degree of difficulty. Still not enough to satisfy the restless urge that had been plaguing him ever since he’d read about the opening for a spot on the Highland firefighting crew out of Colorado. They tackled the most dangerous wildfires out West.
That was the kind of challenge he needed.
Sam dropped down to sit next to Ash Kingfisher. They’d worked together for years and known each other longer than that. If he tried to start a meaningful conversation with Ash at this point, the man in charge of the Otter Lake Ranger Station might give him a hard push right over the edge.
Ash was a good leader but a terrible conversationalist.
The