by Liz Isaacson
“I will,” Micah said, reaching for the door handle. But his idea was to not take care of it. He entered the chapel and sat down in the back row, already voicing a prayer to the Lord. “Dear Lord, could Simone and I make this work? Like, really work? Like everyone else has?”
He took a breath and added, “I really like her. I think I’m in love with her. Just a few days ago, she said we were moving too slow. This certainly isn’t slow. So what do You think? Should I ask her if she wants to give marriage a try?”
The heavens didn’t open. Bright lights didn’t shoot down from the ceiling. But when Micah closed his eyes and imagined what his life with Simone Foster could be like, he knew he wanted it.
So he’d just ask her if she wanted it too. Simple as that.
He basked in the silence for another moment, feeling more loved alone in the chapel than he had in a while. “Thank you,” he whispered, sure he’d gotten the answer to his prayer.
Now he just needed to talk to Simone.
“Your wife,” he amended, and that got him up and out of the chapel, the marriage certificate securely in his hand.
Chapter Eleven
Simone took a deep breath and reached for the grocery bags she’d brought with her. She’d volunteered to make breakfast for Daddy and Gran—and she’d been very specific that she wanted Belinda to be there. She hadn’t questioned her father too much about his new girlfriend, and Simone supposed that their relationship wasn’t that new anymore.
He’d started seeing her last summer, and that was going on nine months now. Simone took the eggs, bacon, bread, and the other ingredients she needed to make French toast and candied bacon up the sidewalk to the front door.
She entered the house, bracing herself for anything. It used to be an offending odor, or clutter on every surface. But since Belinda had been coming to the house, Simone had learned to prepare herself for anything.
“Daddy?” she called as she closed the door behind her. She stepped past the front living room, which no one used or touched, barely glancing at it. Her heart screamed at her, and she came to a full stop.
She backed up a few steps and stared at the formal living room. The very clean and nearly empty formal living room. The last time she’d been here, this room had still housed everything Daddy and Gran couldn’t bear to get rid of that pertained to Simone’s mother.
“Oh, my,” she whispered, her mind racing as fast as her heart. Where had everything gone? Had he thrown it all away? Callie would be livid, and Evelyn would march her pregnant-with-triplets body right into Daddy’s face and demand to know where it had all gone.
“Dad?” she called again, unable to look away from the room. New flooring had gone in at some point in the past week and a half, and new bookcases lined the wall to her left.
“Simone,” he said, coming down the hall toward her. He joined her and looked into the room. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”
“Where is it all?” Simone asked, holding her breath in anticipation of hearing the worst. How could she tell Callie and Evelyn?
“We went through it, finally,” Daddy said, his voice tinged with sadness. “Belinda brought new boxes, and we packed it all up. I figured you girls would like to have your mother’s things.”
Relief like Simone had never known made her lean into the wall beside her. “Is it in the garage?” She’d take it with her today.
“Yes,” Daddy said. “About twelve boxes or so.” He finally looked at her, and Simone could tear her gaze from the newly transformed room. He smiled, and he looked so happy. Simone was glad he was happy, because it had been a while since her father had had much to smile about.
“Want me to take some of that?” he asked, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. He took two of the grocery bags and preceded her into the kitchen. Simone looked for Gran in the family room, but her recliner was empty.
“Where’s Gran?”
“She hasn’t gotten up yet.” Daddy pulled the bread and eggs out of the first bag.
“It’s almost ten,” Simone said, a new kind of alarm pulling through her now. She’d thought she’d been prepared for anything this morning, but she’d already endured quite the shock, and she didn’t know how much more she could take.
She put her grocery bags on the counter too and turned toward the hall. “I’ll go check on her.”
“She’s just tired,” Daddy said after her. “She has a hard time falling asleep at night.”
“Mm hm,” Simone said, already striding toward the hall. She went down halfway and paused outside her grandmother’s bedroom door. “Gran?” She knocked lightly and twisted the knob. Peering in, she could see her grandmother lying in bed. A terrifying moment passed before she saw Gran’s chest rise. Simone needed to get out of her imagination—her very vivid imagination that allowed her to transform into a different character on stage—and seat herself in reality.
“Gran,” she said again, entering the room and going to her grandmother’s side. She looked ages old, her skin papery and pale, wrinkled and weathered. Simone barely touched her forehead as she moved back one of her curls. “Gran, can you wake up?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked unfocused. A moan came out of her mouth, and Simone’s worry tripled. “Are you okay, Gran?”
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded rusted into her throat.
“Time for breakfast,” Simone said. “Let’s get you up, okay?” She steadied her grandmother as she sat up. “You’re warm, Gran.” She placed the back of her hand against Gran’s forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“Just tired,” Gran said, but Simone thought it was more than that.
“Maybe we should go see Doctor George.” She knew Gran would wave that suggestion away, but to her surprise, she didn’t.
“I can manage, child,” she said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” Simone said doubtfully. She backed up and let Gran go in front of her to cross the hall and enter the bathroom. She went down the hall to the kitchen and organized the groceries on the counter.
“Daddy,” she said, trying to be casual. “How long has Gran been sleeping late?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said from the kitchen table, where he had a puzzle book and a cup of coffee in front of him.
“When did she stop being able to sleep well?” Simone got a bowl out and started cracking eggs.
“Maybe last weekend,” he said, clearly unconcerned.
“Does she seem ill?”
His book rustled, and Simone looked up, catching the annoyance on his face. “I don’t know.”
“Dad, she’s not well,” Simone said, throwing her defenses up. “You have to help me out here.”
“Take her to the doctor then,” he said, and Simone was not used to this level of sass from her father. She gaped at him, and the message must’ve been appropriately conveyed, because he held up one hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, sweetie. That was harsh.”
“I will take her to the doctor,” Simone said, cracking another egg a little too hard against the side of the bowl. She whisked in milk, salt, and vanilla until the batter was a little too frothy too.
Daddy got up and joined her in the kitchen, putting a pan on the stove and clicking on the flame underneath it.
“I’m candying the bacon,” Simone said when he reached for the package. Her voice came out snippy too, and she pulled back on her irritation. “So if you want to lay that out on a sheet pan, you can stick it in the oven. Four hundred degrees.”
“Okay,” Daddy said. He turned off the stove and did what she said.
She nodded to the brown sugar. “Mound that on each piece,” she said. “In the oven for fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, Belinda is going to love this,” he said with a smile.
“Yes, let’s talk about Belinda,” Simone said. “How are things going with her?”
“Great,” Daddy said.
It was a strange thought for Sim
one to think of her nearly seventy-year-old father dating and getting married again. “That’s all? Just great? That’s all I get?” Simone glanced at him as she bent to get the griddle out of the cupboard.
He mounded brown sugar, keeping his eyes on the bacon. “Yeah,” he finally said. “We get along real nice. She’s got a couple of sons in the area. She brings food from one of their restaurants a couple of nights a week. Helps Gran go through some exercises. Walks her down the block; that kind of thing.”
“Are you going to marry her?” Simone watched her father’s neck turn a ruddy shade of red. A smile filled her chest, but she didn’t let it out. Why shouldn’t Daddy be happy? No matter how old he was, he shouldn’t have to be here alone, cooped up with decades of memories, papers, and old furniture.
“Just for the record,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool. “I think it’s sweet that you’re sweet on her, and you should marry her if you love her.”
Daddy looked at her, and Simone let the smile out. He grinned too, the tension between them breaking. “I do really like her.” He shook his head. “I might love her. I don’t know. I just knew with your mother, and this is a little different.”
“Maybe it’s not a forever love,” Simone said. “But it could be love nonetheless.”
He nodded, finished with the bacon, and slid it in the oven. “She’ll be here any minute, and I don’t want you hounding her with questions.”
Simone burst out laughing. She continued to do so as she dug through one of his drawers to find the cord for the griddle. “Come on, Dad,” she said. “I’m not Callie.”
“And don’t be tellin’ your sisters about this,” he said.
“Well, I can’t promise that,” Simone said.
“Good morning,” Belinda sang from the direction of the front door. Instead of spinning toward her, Daddy held Simone’s gaze for an extra moment.
“All right, all right,” Simone said under her breath. “I’ll even look away while you go kiss her hello.” She grinned at him and did not look away as her father turned and met Belinda as she entered the family room from the hallway leading to the door. He did kiss her, and then he brought her into the kitchen.
“Morning, Belinda,” Simone said with a smile. “Daddy says you’re a real fan of candied bacon.”
“I know I am,” Gran said, shuffling into the kitchen too. She wore a big, flowery blouse with a pair of denim pants that Simone knew had an elastic waistband. Her orthopedic shoes gave her a couple of extra inches, and she’d managed to tame her hair by wetting it down and then probably running a towel through it. “Is there coffee?”
“Yes,” Daddy said. “Same place as always, Gran.” He smiled at Belinda, but Simone watched Gran. Her hands shook as she reached for a mug. She steadied herself against the countertop, and she just did not look well.
Simone would call the doctor the moment they finished breakfast. She plugged in the griddle and got it heating up. Fifteen minutes later, they had hot French toast and perfectly candied bacon, and Simone looked at the three people waiting to eat at the kitchen table.
“So I got the part of Robyn in the play,” she said, putting down the plate of bacon. “It’s not the main lead, but she’s still on stage a lot as one of the leads. I have one solo.” She smiled around at everyone. “I hope you’ll all come.”
“Of course we will, dear,” Belinda said, reaching over and patting her hand. “How exciting for you.”
“Simone is a great actress,” Daddy said, and Simone ducked her head. “Beautiful singer.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said. She couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment as it cut through her. She’d been the almost-lead in a couple of plays now, and she wondered what it would take to finally get the star role. At the same time, she was grateful she got to perform in the function she did. She wasn’t in the ensemble, and she would be on stage almost as much as Adelaide.
It was that dang almost that tripped her up. She felt like she was almost living her best life. Almost secure with Micah. Almost a star on stage. Almost to the point where she’d have everything she wanted.
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, confirming Gran’s address for the receptionist who’d answered the phone at Doctor George’s office. She honestly didn’t know why she had to go through this. Doctor George had been seeing Gran for over twenty years.
“Okay, so tomorrow at ten,” the woman said, and Simone confirmed. Her morning slipped away from her again, but she reasoned that it was only early March, and she could work all day in the she-shed. Unlike summer, when she went out early-early in the morning so she didn’t have to suffer in the hottest part of the day.
She had an air conditioner in the shop, but she didn’t like to use it. She’d rather hold on to some of her money, thank you very much.
Someone knocked on her door as the woman kept talking about what paperwork to bring and that they needed a new copy of Gran’s s Medicaid card.
“Okay,” Simone said, pulling open the door to find Micah standing there. She gestured for him to come in and then indicated the phone. He wore a storm on his face, but he stepped past Simone and into her cabin.
The woman finally stopped talking, and Simone hung up. “Phew, okay. Hey.” She put a smile on her face, because Micah didn’t come see her during the day very often. And if he did, he texted first.
He’d gone all the way into her kitchen, where he stood at the sink against the back wall of the cabin, staring out the window.
“Micah?” she asked, moving that way too.
He turned toward her as she neared, and he carried a lot more than thunder and lightning in those eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her pulse picking up speed again. “And just say it right out, because I’ve had a morning at my daddy’s house, and I can’t handle any more shocks.”
“You’ve had a morning already?” he asked, his voice emotionless and utterly calm. Which so wasn’t like him and so didn’t fit with the surge building on his face.
“Yes,” she said. “Daddy and Belinda—that’s his girlfriend, if you’ll remember—went through the front room. All of my mother’s things. They boxed them all up, and they’re currently sitting in the back of my SUV.”
“I can help you unload them.”
“I can’t keep them here,” she said. “Out of the three of us, I definitely have the smallest house. Callie can keep them at the homestead.”
He just nodded, and Simone took that as a sign to keep talking. “So that was a shock. For a moment there, I thought he’d thrown everything away.” She paused, imagining that horrifying scenario for a moment. “Then Gran wasn’t up yet when I got there, and Daddy gave me attitude about how she’s been feeling. Then he admitted he probably maybe loves Belinda and might marry her, and then I went to get Gran, and she is not well.” She took a deep breath and kept going. “I just got off the phone with the doctor’s office. I’m taking her tomorrow.”
Micah reached for her, lacing his arm around his waist. “You’re a good woman,” he said.
“And I need to call Callie and Evvy and let them know about Gran, but I don’t want to overwhelm Evvy, who is literally about to have three babies at the same time.” She nodded to the window pane. “Yep, that’s it. Busy morning. Lots of revelations.” She leaned into Micah’s side, perpetually glad he was there. She looked up at him after several seconds of silence. “What’s going on?”
He looked down at her, those dark eyes deeply concerned about something. “I’m sorry about your grandmother,” he said. “I can go with you, if you want.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, though she was a bit worried about Gran. “You have work to do around the ranch.”
“I’m meeting with Bear Glover tomorrow,” he said. “But not until the afternoon.”
“You are?” Simone grinned up at him. “That’s great, Micah. The Glovers have a ton of money. Maybe he’ll want you to do a new homestead.”
He shook his head. “He said
he wants me to look at the one he’s got and see about a renovation.”
“Oh, well.” Simone wondered if that was what had him in this strange mood. “That’s not terrible.”
“I don’t want to do renovations.”
Simone stepped away from him, trying to find something else to say. “Then why’d you say you’d meet with him?”
“Same reason you just said. I’m hoping it’ll be more.” He turned toward her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “We’re still on for Denise’s birthday party on Saturday?”
“Yes,” Simone said. “Though she’s your niece too, and we don’t have to show up as a couple.” She smiled at him, hoping he’d soften.
He did not. “I have to show you something. I’m afraid it’s going to be a huge shock.”
Simone’s eyes widened, and she folded her arms to keep her heart from thrashing outside of her ribs. “Okay.”
He removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and smoothed it on the counter. He nodded to it, the brim of his cowboy hat inclining down for just a moment.
Simone’s mouth went dry, though she didn’t know what was on the cream-colored paper. She took a step over to it, almost wanting to stay back for fear it would strike. Fancy lettering ran across the top. She read it, but her brain misfired.
“What is this?” she asked.
“That’s our marriage certificate,” Micah said. “And wow, I practiced saying that all morning, and it still sounds insane.”
Simone laughed, because that was insane. They weren’t married. She picked up the paper, and looked at it more closely. Her name sat on it. His too. The date was a few weeks ago. She frowned. “What is this?” she asked again.
“Pastor Daniels married us,” Micah said. “I’ve already been over to meet with him. He had a bunch of other papers in his briefcase or whatever, and that stupid prop piece of paper we filled out got sent in with them.”
Panic struck Simone right in the back of the throat. She looked up at Micah, expecting to see the same horror.
