Balancing Act, page 9
Her sister understood. Genevieve’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re the only person who sees all three of me.”
Helen quipped, “The three faces of Genevieve. Ooh, someone should make a movie.”
Recognizing the reference to a 1950s movie classic, The Three Faces of Eve, Genevieve gave her head a toss. “Now, there’s a great idea, although the plot needs tweaking. Instead of strangling her daughter, the protagonist chokes her sister.”
“Made you murderous, have I?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Genevieve heaved a sigh. “I hear you, Helen, and I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but I’m so mixed up right now. The ground is shifting beneath my feet. It’s a question of roles and reinvention and balance. Who do I want to be now that I’ve finally grown up? I thought I had it figured out six months ago, but I think the only thing I’ve figured out is that I’m a snowflake.”
Helen spurted a laugh. “You? A snowflake? In what universe?”
Her gaze on her grandchildren, Genevieve corrected. “Actually, I’m a clump of snowflakes. I’m a snowball.”
“You’d better get back into the car, Frosty. You’ve been out in the cold too long, and your brain has frozen.”
“Not frozen. Transformed. I’ve transformed. Spring and summer and autumn are long gone. Now I’m winter. I’m thousands of individual snowflakes clinging together.”
Her sister made an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
Warming to the imagery, Genevieve ignored her. “But here’s the deal, Helen. My winter is in a constant state of change. When the sun comes out, I start to melt, which changes my shape. When another cold front rolls in, I refreeze. Then it snows, and I catch some more flakes. Right now, I’m a big fat snowball perched on an incline. I’m teetering, and I could start rolling any time. Straight downhill and headed for a tree trunk. No, wait. Make that a gravestone. I’m a snowball ready to roll into a grave marker.”
Clapping her hands together, Genevieve added, “Splat.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m honestly a bit concerned at this point. Hypothermia can do strange things to a person.” Helen turned toward the children and called, “Emma? Drew? Y’all finish up your snowman. Everybody needs to get into the car to warm up. Your mom will join us soon.”
More quietly, she murmured, “I hope. I will start honking the horn if Willow doesn’t show up soon.”
“I am a little chilled,” Genevieve admitted. Chilled and confused, which was only natural, considering that her life-role desires were pulling her in different directions.
Helen grumbled. “Too bad we don’t have a Saint Bernard with a cask of brandy in the backseat.”
“I could use a drink. And someone warm to snuggle up against.”
“Now, there’s the most sensical thing you’ve said in minutes, Genevieve!” Helen exclaimed. “Why don’t you call Gage and invite him to dinner?”
“I’m not going to date Gage Throckmorton. It’s only been a year and a half since he lost his wife. He’s not ready for a new relationship.”
“I don’t know. Men tend to move faster than women following a loss.”
“Well, romance is the last thing on my mind right now.”
Helen shot her sister a meaningful look. “Maybe it shouldn’t be.”
“Drop it, Helen.” Genevieve’s gaze shifted toward Noah Tannehill’s home. “I do wish Willow would hurry along, however. We are wasting time, and that is a crime.” Genevieve looked at her sister and smiled. “Thank you.” She hugged Helen hard and repeated, “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Then, following a moment’s pause, she added, “Um, what for?”
“Because you’re right. As usual.”
“That’s true, although exactly what am I right about in this case?”
“I need a plan, some organization. I need to guide the snowball downhill. I need to find a balance between Mom and Nana and Genevieve.”
“Hear! Hear!”
“It will have to wait until after the wedding, though. As much as I’d love to go on the South Pacific trip, I just can’t. When my kids need help—truly need it—I’m going to help. It’s in my DNA. Willow needs help until after the wedding. I cannot switch granny gears until after the I dos are done.”
“Granny gears? Genevieve, please, no! You can’t stand the word granny.”
“But I like the alliteration. So sue me.”
“Do not ask me to use that word. I’ll call you Vivie, but I’m not touching granny. After all, I’m six years older than you are.”
Genevieve laughed as Emma came running toward them, her cheeks red with cold and her eyes shining. Drew followed on his sister’s heels. Both children were dusted with snow. Genevieve’s heart swelled with joy. She went down on one knee, heedless of the snow and the twinge of pain the movement caused her knees, and opened her arms.
Her grandchildren ran to her for a hug. Drew was safe and in her arms. Emma was safe, in her arms, and babbling about a lopsided snowman.
Willow approached from the direction of the house, a bemused expression on her face. And beside Genevieve, always beside her, Helen stood ready to help.
Genevieve met her daughter’s and sister’s gazes, thought about New Year’s Eve, and said, “Muffle.”
“Excuse me?” Willow asked as Helen snorted.
“My guiding word. I haven’t been paying attention to it, but that will change.”
Helen folded her arms and spoke in a false snippy tone. “You intend to muffle my advice?”
“Did I say that? I didn’t say that.”
Willow gestured toward her SUV. “Can you two continue this argument while I drive? I’m already late for my meeting with the caterer.”
“Excellent idea.” Helen turned and spoke to the children. “Drew, get into the car. Emma, come here, sweets. Let me buckle you in.”
Genevieve climbed into the backseat and sat between her grandchildren. Once Helen settled into the front passenger seat, Genevieve leaned forward and placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I’m not muffling your advice, Helen. It’s the noise. It’s always about the noise. You know what noise does to snow, don’t you?”
“Hon, I haven’t a clue.”
“Avalanche.”
Willow glanced at her aunt as she started the car. “What is she talking about?”
“It’s beyond me. Maybe we really should run by the ER. Perhaps she’s had a TIA.”
“No, I haven’t had a stroke. I’m muffling. I’m searching for that balance you’ve convinced me I need in the quiet. I can’t stop the melt, but I can control the roll.”
Helen glanced at Willow. “Your mother is a snowball.”
“That’s silly, Nana,” Emma declared.
“Sometimes a little silly is exactly what a nana needs.” Genevieve sat back in her seat, determined to enjoy the drive. Enjoy the afternoon and evening and tomorrow and the day after that. She would enjoy her role as the mother of the groom six weeks from now.
She could do this. She would do this.
After all, age need not be necessarily measured as time already lived. In terms of the time Genevieve had yet to live, statistically speaking, she was still middle-aged. Sixty was the new forty, right?
Yeah, well, tell that to your knees.
Well, snowballs didn’t have knees, did they? So she could—she would—enjoy this roll downhill.
Right toward the gravestone in the cemetery at the end of the road.
Splat.
Okay, this new attitude of hers needed some fine-tuning.
She turned her gaze toward the window and the snow-covered mountain meadow. Where did the time go? She’d been thirty-nine ten minutes ago, facing her fortieth. Now, sixty. That old saying about youth being wasted on the young… so much truth. And yet so silly to bemoan a birthday. Wasn’t she still on this side of the grass? Wasn’t she spending glorious time with her grandchildren, watching them grow and learn and thrive, despite losing their father so young?
Just like her children had lost their father. Oh, David. I wish you could join us on playdates. I wish you could be here to watch Jake marry the woman of his dreams. I wish you’d been here to grow old with me. I’m so lonely.
Tears welled in her eyes, and as she furiously blinked them away, Emma’s small hand stole into hers. “It’s okay, Nana. Don’t cry. I’m here.”
Out of the mouths of babes. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so glad. So very glad.”
The rest she’d get figured out.
In time.
Chapter Five
NOAH HAD PUT THE task off for as long as possible, but his online order had been delayed. He was down to two cans of beans and half a loaf of bread. Even more serious, he was out of coffee. He had to go to the grocery store again.
After his last venture into town, he’d decided that the only thing worse than going to the post office in Lake in the Clouds was making a local grocery run.
A shopper had two stores from which to choose for groceries: a national chain store and a small mom-and-pop, been-there-forever type of place called simply the General Store. He preferred the anonymity of the chain store, but the mom-and-pop carried local and regional brands he’d come to love. So, for the Mocha Moose Morning Blend coffee beans and the Rocky Mountain Road ice cream made over in Eternity Springs, he’d brave nosy Nettie Parkin, who ran the register at the General Store.
The place closed at seven. Having learned by experience that Nettie was most inquisitive early in the day, he timed his arrival for six thirty. With his list in hand, he entered the store, grabbed a grocery cart, and headed for the produce. Potatoes. Onions. The tomatoes looked sorry, so he skipped those. He’d just tossed a handful of garlic bulbs into the cart when he heard an excited voice exclaim, “Mr. Tannehill! Hi, Mr. Tannehill! It’s me. Drew. Remember me? I haven’t seen you in so long!”
Noah looked up to see the boy, wearing sneakers, a coat, and Spider-Man pajamas, darting toward him.
“What are you buying, Mr. Tannehill? Is that garlic? My nana uses garlic when she makes lasagna. It’s awesome. She made it for us this week, and she has this little plastic roller thingy that you put the garlic inside and roll it and the peel comes right off the garlic. It’s way cool. Have you ever seen that? I think they should make one big enough for onions, but Nana says she’s never seen one of those. Maybe I’ll invent it when I grow up. What else are you buying? We’re buying Froot Loops instead of eggs for breakfast. Can you believe that? I ask and ask and ask and Mom never lets me have them, but this time I wore her down ’cause she’s so tired from getting ready for the wedding. Do you like Froot Loops?”
“Take a breath, kid.” Noah frowned down at Drew. “I don’t want you passing out and keeling over here in the bananas.”
Drew giggled. “I’m just excited to see you. I talk a lot when I’m excited.”
“I think you’re excited all the time.” Noah placed a bunch of bananas in his shopping cart. “So, your mom is getting married?”
“No. Not my mom. My uncle Jake. The wedding was gonna be in Texas but the building burned down so now they’re getting married here and having the party at my nana’s lodge. My mom is planning the party because it’s her job and Uncle Jake and Aunt Tess—she’ll be my aunt after the wedding—had to work. Want to come to the party? My mom told me I could invite a friend. It’s in five days. Will you come?”
Noah was taken aback. “I’m not your friend.”
“Oh.” The boy’s face fell. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the floor. “Okay.”
Noah felt like a heel. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Cheerful for the past year, but he didn’t go around kicking puppies or children. Instead, he immediately attempted to backtrack. “I mean, I’m sure your mother meant a friend your own age.”
“I don’t have any friends my age in Lake in the Clouds. Not yet. I’m trying to make friends but it’s hard ’cause I’m homeschooled and Lake in the Clouds doesn’t have a co-op or pods for kids like me. Mom is sad about that. Once Little League starts next month, it will be better, and I’ll make lots of friends. Now all I have is my sister. She’s only four. Her birthday is soon, though.”
“Look, kid. I’ll be your friend, but I don’t need to go to any wedding reception.”
Noah’s words flipped Drew’s switch, and he brightened. “Since we’re friends, can I come over to your house and play? We can have playdates like I have with my nana. Will you let me help you make dollhouses? I really want to do that.”
“Hold on. Hold on. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Noah wanted to abandon his grocery cart and head for the exit. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your mom wasn’t very happy that you came over to my house the first time.”
“She’ll be happy when we ’splain it to her. You’ll see. I’ll go tell her now.” He darted toward the back of the store and disappeared around an endcap holding a selection of nuts.
Noah gave a quick retreat serious consideration. He could grab the bare necessities and head for the register. Or he could continue shopping and hope that Mrs. Eldridge would get control of her kid.
Based on how she’d stormed his fortress, she undoubtedly would try to rein in Drew. She’d been the quintessential mama bear protecting her child—all the while worrying that she was overprotecting him. He’d liked that about her. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt anything for Noah to shift into speed-shopping mode.
He grabbed a couple stalks of broccoli, some carrots, and a bag of lettuce, then breezed by the bread and snagged a loaf. Now at the back of the store, he turned to roll past the meat cases, loading up on protein. He deliberately did not look down the aisles as he passed, doing his best to be a stealth shopper.
To no avail.
From behind him came Drew’s voice. “Mr. Tannehill!”
Noah closed his eyes and sighed.
“Mr. Tannehill! You’re still here. I’m so glad. I was worried when you weren’t by the bananas.”
A second little voice piped up. “Drew says you’ll help us because you’re his friend.”
Noah glanced over his shoulder to see a little girl in blond pigtails and pink pajamas staring up at him with big green eyes rounded with worry.
Oh hell. A little girl. I can’t deal with little girls. They reminded him of Maddie.
“Our mom is crying in the grocery store,” Drew said. “She only cries when she’s in her room or the bathtub and she thinks we can’t hear her, but she’s crying right now in the yogurt department. Anyone can see her, and she’ll hate that.”
Noah abandoned his cart without thought and started toward the children. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Drew moaned.
The girl piped up. “I told Mama that Mimi wants us to bring creamer for Grampy’s coffee. She looked at me, and then her eyes got wet, and she sat down on the floor and started crying.”
Noah put the clues together. “Mimi and Grampy are your grandparents?”
Both children nodded. Drew said, “They came to visit us. They’re going to Uncle Jake’s wedding, but they came early to help Mom with us because she is so busy getting everything ready. They just got here today.”
“Are they here in the store?” Noah asked, hoping help was at hand. The girl shook her head. Drew said, “No. They’re staying in one of the cabins at Raindrop Lodge where we live, and they were tired from the trip so they are going to watch TV and go to bed early.”
“Our mom put groceries in their cabin before they got here,” the girl added. “But she forgot that Grampy likes coffee creamer. So I told her and it made her cry!”
Drew bit his lower lip. “I tried to ask Mom what was wrong, but she just held up her hand. That means to wait and give her a minute. But she’s been sitting there for way more than a minute.”
“And we’re not supposed to sit on the floor in the grocery store,” the girl said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s gross.”
Drew nodded. “If the mean lady at the front sees her, I’m afraid of what will happen.”
Drew was talking about Nettie Parkin. Noah shared his concern. He headed for the dairy department, where, sure enough, he found Willow Eldridge sitting on the floor with her hands covering her face. Her shoulders shook. She was definitely crying.
“Um… ma’am? Willow?”
She ignored him. Noah didn’t like the sensation of looming above her, so despite the pain the action caused him, he went down on one knee. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, now. What can I do to help?”
A good ten seconds passed before she finally responded. “Watch my kids so I can have a safe nervous breakdown.”
“Can nervous breakdowns ever be safe?” Noah wondered aloud.
“I can’t have a dangerous one because of my kids.” Sighing heavily, she lifted her head and met his gaze.
It was a gut punch.
Noah hadn’t seen such misery in a woman’s eyes since Daniel’s wife, Cheryl, visited Noah in the hospital.
He wanted to wipe the look from her face, which was shocking for Noah to realize.
He hadn’t felt the urge to comfort a woman since Cheryl’s visit, either.
He felt it now, and that scared him spitless. “I recommend an axe.”
Willow gave him a blank look. “Pardon me?”
“Chopping firewood is a great way to release tension. Of course, it’s not exactly an after-dark activity.” And of course, the moment the words were out of his mouth, his mind went there. After-dark activity. Tangled sheets and sweat-slicked skin. His body responded to the thought.
Now? His libido picks now to return? After a year’s hiatus? While he’s kneeling on the old tile floor of the General Store? Sheesh.
Noah immediately attempted to recover. “Of course, there’s always bowling.”
She sputtered a laugh and swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Bowling.”
