Page 100 of Someone to Hold
I walk outof the exam room of the orthopedic surgeon’s office the following morning without crutches, a boot, a scooter, or anything aiding my gait for the first time since the accident.
Piper, who volunteered to drive me to my follow-up appointment, is waiting in the lobby. She’s here instead of Chase because he’s been out since first light repairing the damage to the greenhouse.
“Look at you,” she says, tossing her magazine on one of the nearby tables as she stands. “Walking on sunshine and all that.”
I smile because the waiting room is filled with patients, most of them now staring at me, and I’m blinking away tears.
“Oh, Molly.” Piper hugs me tight. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Can we get out of here so I can have a breakdown in your car instead of with an audience?”
“Of course.” She takes my hand and leads me out of the office.
Her Jeep is parked on the far end of the lot, and as we walk toward it, I think about exiting this same office so many weeks ago with my mother-in-law at my side, wondering how I was going to manage my life.
This should be the moment I feel like Iamwalking on sunshine. Instead, it feels like a dark cloud of challenges is following me, and right now, the emotions are overwhelming.
No more boot means I don’t need Chase’s help anymore. But I’m not ready for him to leave. Not when the future feels uncertain and the farm still stands between us.
We woke up this morning to a mess of leaves and broken glass. By some miracle, the two fields Chase helped me plant survived the worst of the storm. But it will take time and money to fix the greenhouse—the space that has become more than my happy place over the past couple of years. It’s filled with my hopes and dreams for the future. Seeing the destruction hurt my heart even though it could’ve been so much worse, and I know having Luke safe is the only thing that truly matters.
I put in a call to the insurance company this morning, but I’m not sure Linda will be willing to file a claim. And the loss of income from the starter plants and seedlings is going to hit my bottom line hard.
To his credit, Chase didn’t say a word, even though he has to know the loss of inventory puts my plan in jeopardy. I’m afraid it could impact my chances of securing the loan I need to buy the property. The setback is also a reminder that I’m still competing with him. He’s done so much to make me feel like we’re on the same page. The same team. But I don’t dare allow myself to wonder what it might be like if that were true. What we could accomplish if we worked together toward our dreams.
I haven’t even told him that I love him, but he has to know. I want to believe he feels the same way. Even more, that it means he’ll stay.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Piper after a few minutes of ugly crying in her car. I wipe a sleeve over my wet cheeks. “Yesterday was a lot, and I’m tired. But I’m also so happy my ankle is healed.”
“You need a latte,” she says instead of directly addressing mymini-meltdown. To be honest, I appreciate the tactic. “We’re stopping at The Roasted Sky on the way home.”
“I made a pot of coffee this morning and should?—”
“Also an apple fritter,” she says.
I have so much to do, but a fancy coffee and one of Sally’s homemade pastries is exactly what I need.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Sadie’s little sister when she returned to town. Sadie had given up so much to raise Piper after their mother died, and it didn’t feel like Piper appreciated it. Plus, based on her engagement to Sadie’s former high school crush—who, by all accounts, is a complete tool—she has horrible taste in men.
But Piper is even younger than me, and I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Lots of people make stupid choices when they’re young. I also understand what it’s like to grow up as a motherless daughter. Turns out we have more in common than you’d think, and I’ve grown close to her these past few months.
When we walk into The Roasted Sky, Sally stands behind the counter at the coffee shop she bought a few years ago. She was Sadie’s best friend growing up, which made her like a big sister to Piper. And while everyone who works there is fantastic, I suspect Sally has a secret stash of unicorn tears she adds to make her concoctions particularly magical.
“Hey, ladies,” she says as we approach. It’s mid-morning and the start of the work week, but the crowd is a testament to the cheery shop’s popularity. “How about that storm last night?”
Piper grimaces as she glances over at me and makes a slashing motion across her neck.
“Oh, no.” Sally’s gaze follows Piper’s. “Was there damage at the farm?”
I nod, my stomach clenching automatically. “Lightning struck one of the cottonwoods, and a branch fell on the corner of the greenhouse.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sally shakes her head. “Did the flowers survive?”
“For the most part.” I offer a tight smile. “The main crops this time of year are in the fields and the hail netting protected them. But there are some losses, and the repairs aren’t going to be cheap.”
“Then I think an on-the-house emotional support coffee is just what you need.”
“We’ll take an apple fritter, too, please,” Piper tells her. “But this is also a celebration. As of a few minutes ago, Molly’s leg is boot-free.”
