by Robyn Carr
“I’m so sorry, Kaylee. You must miss your mother so much.”
“Unbearably,” she said. “We were so close. I’m an only child. We were best friends. Her friends were my friends and my friends were also her friends. She read every book I wrote before I even sent it to an editor. I’m lost without her. I knew I would be for a while, but sometimes I feel like I’m getting worse, not better.”
“Do you have to finish that book? I mean, do you have other options?”
“I could give the advance back. I’m just not ready to give up yet. My storytelling always swept me away. Saved me. Till now.”
“Well, it’s not surprising. You suffered an enormous loss. But I think you were smart to come here. A change like this can be good. You know what I learned about grief? It’s always there and it’s always at the center of your life and then one day you realize with some surprise that you had a fairly good day and you wonder if grief left. Or if it got smaller. It didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s the same size. Your mother will always be that important. But your world will get a little bigger. And when your world gets bigger it feels like your grief gets smaller. You took a very brave step in coming here—the change alone will make your world a little bigger.”
“I will always miss my mom,” Kaylee said, and the damn tears gathered in her eyes.
“Of course you will,” Mel said. “But your world will inevitably expand. Jack said he fed you dinner. How would you like a cup of tea? With honey?”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Let’s go inside and make it together. There’s a small refrigerator and microwave in the guesthouse. We can poke around in the kitchen for a few things you can take with you for the night.”
Kaylee followed Mel. “As a matter of fact, I brought a cooler and picnic basket with some groceries. I knew that once I got to the Templetons’ house, the nearest grocery store would be at least a town away and it might be a day or two before I could shop.”
“That was smart. There’s a small store in town but you’re probably going to have to drive to Clear River or even to Fortuna to stock up. Sit down while I put on the water and make our tea.”
Kaylee looked around the spacious kitchen adjacent to the great room and dining room. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Jack and some of his friends built it. Then his sister and her husband built the house next door. Brie is an attorney with an office in her home and she loves to hike. If you decide to hang around a while, she can give you some great tips on hiking trails. Sometimes a little bit of nature is just the thing. The views are spectacular.”
“I’ll probably go back to the LA area, since the house isn’t going to be available.”
“LA? I went to school in LA and worked there for a long time.”
“What kind of work?” Kaylee asked.
Mel put the tea in the pot to steep, bringing it to the table. “I’m a nurse practitioner and midwife. I work with Dr. Michaels in town, right across from Jack’s. Here’s an idea. Jack knows everyone. That’s kind of a by-product of having the only watering hole in town. Why don’t you ask him to make a couple of phone calls and check with a Realtor or two, see if there are any vacation properties for rent around here. Maybe you won’t have to hurry back to LA.”
“I don’t want to impose...”
“He wouldn’t mind,” Mel said. “I’m sorry you can’t just use the casita for the whole time you want to be here, but Jack’s got family coming the end of next week. Besides, that little guesthouse wouldn’t do. You need a real house with a real kitchen.”
“And a porch,” Kaylee said.
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask. I’ll call him right now. What are some of the specific things you want?”
“A cozy place. A view would be nice, like the Templetons have from their front porch. The weather is going to cool off; a fireplace would be good. I don’t think I could be happy in some fishing cabin buried in the woods. Do you know the Templetons’ house?”
“I’ve met Bonnie and Gerald and a couple of their sons, but I’ve never been to their house.”
“It’s bigger than I need—four bedrooms. But it has a nice living room and kitchen and a porch in front and back. And their view isn’t as great as yours, but you can see down the hill and the mountains to the east and west. I remember shiny hardwood floors, old quilts and wood paneling. It’s not fancy but it’s homey. Comfy. As I remember it, it feels like it kind of hugs you.”
“Wonderful description. You should be a writer.” Then Mel grinned and said, “Stand by.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “When I first got here about ten years ago, we had no cell service anywhere. I used to carry a pager—that’s how antiquated this place was. The internet was dial-up. Jack,” she said into the phone, “Kaylee is here, we’re having a cup of tea and got to talking.” Then she repeated everything Kaylee had said about a rental. She said she’d see him in a while and signed off. “See. He’s happy to make a couple of calls on your behalf. Let me get your number. I’ll put it in my phone. And I’ll give you mine and Jack’s.”
They chatted while they finished their tea, and then Mel walked with her to the guesthouse and opened the door for her. It was perfectly charming and certainly adequate but she wouldn’t choose something that small for a six-month stay. It was hardly more than a motel room and she wanted to spread out and work, if possible.
Kaylee went back to her car and moved it to the side of the guesthouse. She brought in her suitcases, cooler, picnic basket and a couple of boxes of stuff that she wouldn’t bother to unpack until she found something long-term, if that even happened. She had a special suitcase with some mementos of her mother, things she couldn’t bear to be away from for too long. She was fairly sure she’d be putting everything back in her car and heading south in the morning. She’d start making a list of people she could call who would put her up for a while, until she found something semipermanent. In fact, she could call Lucy and talk with her about finding a rental somewhere.
By the time she’d gotten into her pajamas, she’d begun to long for her mother’s house and, of course, her mother. They used to talk three times a day. Nothing in either of their lives passed without some mention, and major life crises or events could take hours to discuss and sort out. They were each other’s go-to counselor. Kaylee didn’t have anyone to fill that void.
She thought about what Mel had said to her before leaving her to settle in.
“It might be time to give yourself a pause. A break. You can’t rush healing. And healing is more important than anything else, including finishing a book.”
* * *
Early the next morning, Kaylee decided to take a walk. There was a small coffeepot in her casita. She brewed a cup and then stepped outside. There were a couple of chairs just outside her front door, so she sat in one. Everything was bright and clean, the air much clearer and sharper than at home. She saw Mel walk to the house next door with her children and within moments she was walking back home. She gave Kaylee a wave before disappearing into the house. A few minutes later she saw Jack’s truck driving down the road away from the house, both Jack and Mel inside.
So the day begins for the people of Virgin River, Kaylee thought. Jack was probably going to the bar, though it was quite early. She left her coffee on the ground by her chair and took a leisurely walk down the road, enjoying the sight of fog nestled in the valley as the chill ran up her back and arms.
I can do this, she thought. I can breathe in the cool morning air, wake up to the mountainous beauty, wave to the neighbors, and then I will get to work.
She showered, sat in the only chair in the room, feet propped up on the end of the bed, laptop balanced on her thighs, and she opened up the document. She had left off on page seventeen. She reread from page one as she had a billion times before and hadn’t even gotten to page seventee
n when her mind began to wander. She thought of going to lunch with her mom and maybe a girlfriend or two, hers or her mom’s, it didn’t matter. She thought of shopping trips, always quick ones since neither of them liked to diddle over the racks. She thought about those nights neither had plans and they’d binge-watch some new series. And they often read the same book at the same time, cautiously discussing without spoilers until both had finished. Kaylee loved doing that.
There was a time a few years ago when Kaylee had to attend a conference cocktail party and had nothing to wear. She wanted to look good. Not only would other writers be there but also publishers, agents, editors and booksellers. Meredith had said, “You need just the right little black dress.” And Meredith needed one, too, for an entirely different event. They wore the same size but their age differences and therefore style preferences precluded sharing a dress. Off they went to one of the better stores in LA. Better meant middle range, because they were hardly Rodeo Drive shoppers, but this called for something more upscale than the mall. Neiman Marcus, they thought. Or Nordstrom.
They loaded the appropriate dresses on their arms, chose neighboring dressing rooms that opened into a large viewing area with several mirrors. Kaylee’s first choice hugged her butt like it was three sizes too small while Meredith’s emphasized her belly. The next two were almost the opposite—Kaylee suddenly had a belly and Meredith looked all hips and butt. The next one for Kaylee looked more suited for a ninety-year-old attending a wake while Meredith had one fit for a seventeen-year-old.
“You need Spanx,” Kaylee told Meredith. “I’ll have the saleslady get one.”
And it went downhill from there with them dying of laughter at the sight of Meredith trying to pull on the body shaper and then Kaylee trying to help her tug the girdle up. Neither got a dress that day but they did have wine with lunch, continued the laughter and vowed to try again in a week.
Kaylee was laughing out loud at the memory, but tears were running down her cheeks as well. When she thought of Meredith, that sort of thing happened. So many good times, lost.
“Oh, Jesus,” she muttered, wiping her cheeks.
She remembered that Mel said something about grief never getting smaller but how her world could get bigger. She wasn’t sure how that was done, but it was time to try. After she considered it for a few minutes she slid her laptop into her shoulder bag and headed for her car. She’d drive into Virgin River, which you could miss if you blinked, maybe have another coffee and whatever breakfast sandwich Jack offered. She’d try to write at the bar for an hour. Before her mom got sick Kaylee used to go to a coffee shop or a neighborhood restaurant called Carlisle’s where she could have a glass of wine and a New York–style pizza slice. She felt less like she was in detention if she wrote for a while in a coffee shop or bar.
As she walked to her car she heard the smallest peep and slowed her steps. She looked up first. Then down. Right there by her front tire was the tiniest black-and-white kitten. What was a person to do? She scooped it up in her hands and instinctively held it close to her cheek. “Aww. You are lost, little one.” She wasted a good ten minutes looking around for more kittens or at least a mother, but this guy was alone.
And then she did the one thing everyone cautioned against. She took him into her casita and gave him a bowl of milk and told him she’d be back in an hour or so.
* * *
“Well, well, Kaylee Sloan, just the person I wanted to see. I was going to give you a call a little later,” Jack said as she walked in the door.
“Do you need the casita sooner?” she asked.
“Nah, you’re fine. But I talked to an agent who leases rentals. Her name is Gloria, very nice lady, and she’s going to see what they have. I gave her your number. She’ll probably be calling soon.”
“Oh, thank you! Um, did you lose a kitten?”
“A kitten? No. A kitten?” he repeated.
“Cutest thing, all by himself. Or herself. I don’t know much about cats.”
“How big is this kitten?” Jack asked suspiciously.
“He could fit in a cup,” she said. “Black and white.”
“There are feral cats around, but we have a dog. And with the wildlife in the mountains, kittens without a mother don’t survive long and if they do, they’re fighting cats. Where is it?”
“In the casita,” she said. “I couldn’t leave it alone. You have a dog?”
Jack nodded. “Ralph. He’s a border collie. My son found him under the Christmas tree we put up in town every year so we had to keep him. He’s kind of lazy but he’d probably try to herd a kitten. He’s still herding us into the kitchen whenever he can.”
“I never saw a dog,” she said nervously. “I’m a little wary around dogs. I was bitten when I was a child. Pretty badly. Badly enough to set up a good-size phobia.”
“Ralph won’t bite you. He stays close to David, my son. Besides, Ralph’s partying days are over. Did you, um, feed that stray kitten?”
“No. I just gave him some milk and left him in the casita so he wouldn’t get hurt or lost.”
“You fed him. And what are you going to do with him now?”
“There must be a no-kill shelter around here somewhere,” she said.
“Nah, you should keep him. You two need each other.”
“I’ve never had a cat...”
“I hear cats are easy. Sometimes they’re independent and couldn’t give a shit about you, but some people claim to have very affectionate cats. And he or she’s a baby. That should give you an edge. Plus, you fed him—that’s commitment in his eyes. There’s a pet store in Clear River where you can get some supplies. I’ll give you directions.”
“I won’t even know what to buy!”
“It’s a pet store,” Jack repeated. “Tell them you don’t know what to buy and they’ll load you up. How was the casita? You sleep okay?”
“It was very nice, thank you,” she said in a somewhat frustrated tone. Had he just sold her a kitten? “Do you have some kind of breakfast sandwich? And coffee?”
“You bet. Preacher’s in the kitchen. What do you want on it?”
“Sausage, egg and cheese, please.”
“Sounds easy. Stay tuned.” He turned and went to the kitchen. A moment, and only a moment later, he placed before her a perfect sandwich, cut on the diagonal, with some home fries and a tomato slice on the side. “Anything else? Ranch? Mayo? Ketchup?”
“Cholula hot sauce?”
“A girl after my own heart,” he said, producing the desired hot sauce. Next came a mug of coffee and an ice water. “Be careful, now,” he said. “After a couple of Preacher’s meals, you’ll never cook for yourself again.”
She added her sauce, took a bite and let her eyelids drop in heavenly wonder. It was fabulous. “There are onions and peppers in here,” she said. “Brilliant!”
Before she finished the first half, the magic that was Jack’s Bar began to happen. People wandered in, recognized her as the girl from the fire, introduced themselves and tried to think of a house she could rent. She met Connie from the store across the street, Tom Cavanaugh from a local orchard, Jillian, who ran a small farm of specialty fruits and vegetables, Luke Riordan, who owned some cabins on the river, and Dr. Michaels, who worked with Mel. They all mentioned other neighbors and in no time at all she felt she’d met or heard about everyone in the town. When she finished her breakfast, she dabbed her lips and pushed her plate away. “I was going to see if I could write for a little while, but I think I have to go to the pet store.”
“Congratulations,” Jack said with a grin. “You’re a kitty mother.”
“I haven’t decided I’m going to keep him,” she said.
“But why not? Everyone needs a companion. Especially a writer. So, what kind of stuff do you write?”
“Well, mysteries. Scary mysteries.”
“Are
you famous?”
She paused before giving her standard answer. Only to my mother. “Hardly anyone knows me. Thanks, Jack. That was absolutely great.”
“I’m hoping you’ll be a regular,” he said.
She gave him some money and he gave her directions written on a napkin. “Try not to find any more kittens. My daughter is almost six. Very vulnerable to small, cute animals.”
“I’ll keep my eyes closed,” she said with a laugh.
And she thought, In eight months nothing has changed and suddenly, in one day, I feel like life could be interesting again.
* * *
Kaylee had never had a pet. When she was quite small it was because her parents worked and there was no time to take care of a pet. When she was six, not long after her father left them, she got that nasty dog bite. He was just some wayward dog loose in the park and of all the children there, he bit Kaylee. That eliminated the puppy notion, plus there was even one fewer person to take care of a pet. Her mother liked cats but when she was around Grandma’s cats, her sinuses plugged up and she sneezed a lot. Grandma had to put the cats in a room when they visited, but that didn’t help too much because the dander was everywhere.
Kaylee had a girlfriend who had two cats—one was sweet and cuddly and the other one seemed to think she was leasing her space to the humans. Her friend’s cats didn’t bother her sinuses at all, so that was one issue she wasn’t worried about. But because of her closeness with her mother, a cat as a companion had never occurred to her.
