Page 4 of Always Meant for You
I used to love this place. Loved running through the fields, arms stretched wide, hair tangled, heart full. I’d spin until I was dizzy, drunk on the scent of wildflowers, sun, and seed.
Back then, the world felt big. Open. Possible.
But a rainy day beneath a weeping willow changed everything.
I can feel his touch against my cheek.
I see his face.
His reddish-brown hair, sun-streaked from working outside. That stubborn jaw. Broad shoulders filling out a threadbare flannel.
But his eyes—his eyes were different that day.
They were full of longing, full of things he wasn’t saying.
The way he looked at me stole my breath.
As a storm raged around us, and we took shelter under that tree, he gazed into my eyes and saw me.
Me.
Nobody had ever looked at me like that.
Like I was new to him.
Like I was everything.
Like I was made of magic.
And then he ran.
I push the memory aside and bristle.
This kitchen feels too small, too confining.
I shake my head, the ache rising fast.
Before it swallows me, a knock sounds at the back door.
I straighten and wipe my face.
The door creaks open, and Gladys Horner steps inside. “Oh, Carol, honey, I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice thin with age.
She carries a casserole close to her chest, arms trembling as if the weight might undo her. Her smile is kind but unsteady. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Her shoulders are more stooped than I remember. She glances around the kitchen like she’s unsure of where she is.
“It’s Mabel, Mrs. Horner,” I say softly, taking the dish from her. “My mom, Carol, she’s been gone a long time, remember?”
She chuckles nervously. “Oh, goodness. I’m sorry, Mabel. My memory’s not what it was. If Cal’s grandpa were still alive, he’d say, ‘Gladys, you’ve gone and mixed up the Muldowney girls again.’” Gladys studies my face. “But you do look so much like your mother, dear. Such a shame we lost her when you were just a little thing.”
I set the casserole down and fall back on my manners. “Thank you for thinking of us, ma’am.”
She pats my shoulder. “You can find comfort knowing your brother and your mother are together in heaven.”
I nod again, but the words don’t anger me. Coming from Mrs. Horner, they’re genuine.
I rearrange a few casserole dishes to give my hands something to do.
“Will Cal be joining you?”
