Page 47 of Grown-Up Second Chance

“Yeah. My college advisor told me to check that out. They gave me some pills, and I took them for a while, but then, well, things happened. I stopped taking them.”

“Did they help?” Kathleen asked, sitting down in another chair. She looked up at me and gestured to the couch.

I sat down. If there was a real medical problem, then standing over Liz wasn’t going to help.

“They kinda helped. But I didn’t feel like me,” Liz said.

“Would you be willing to go back to the doctor?” Kathleen asked.

Liz lifted her head and gave us a wan smile. “If it means you won’t leave me by the side of the road in the middle of the country, sure.” She leaned toward Kathleen. “I don’t mean to drive you crazy.” She glanced over to include me. “I love you guys. You’re family.”

Loving feelings built up in my chest. She was right. We were family. No matter who else came and went, we would always have each other.

“We love you too,” I said, meaning every word. I hesitated a moment. As much as I loved her, I knew her habits would get to Kathleen and me over and over, especially in this small space.

Liz looked around. “Well, what are we waiting for? This place isn’t going to clean itself. And when we’re done, I’ll go to the store and get fixings for lasagna. You guys love lasagna.”

I stifled my groan. The kitchen was going to be disastrous when she was done, but she was right. Her lasagna was amazing.

“Group hug,” I said.

We came together and wrapped our arms around each other.

Family. It was the best.

~ ~ ~

The lasagna was delicious, and the kitchen was the disaster I’d predicted. Once Kathleen and I were finished cleaning up, I decided to take a walk. I loved my sisters, but I needed a break from them.

My feet naturally went in the direction of Joe’s trailer. He was outside in his chair, making notes on a pad of paper.

“Ah, there you are,” he said. “I was wondering if I’d see you today.”

“Hard not to,” I said, sitting down in his spare chair. “It’s a small place.”

“True.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, this?” He pointed to the pad. “I’m stuck on a plot point. Sometimes sitting down with a piece of paper and brainstorming all my possibilities helps break through the logjam in my mind.”

“Plot points?”

“I’ve decided to make the book fiction, not non-fiction. I think more people will read it.”

I frowned. A mystery set in turn-of-the-century Montana?

“Historical mysteries are doing really well right now.” He hesitated. “I … well I sent some queries to agents. But I used different pitches. Some historical fiction, some non-fiction, and a few about a mystery.”

“And?”

“The one who said he’d take a look at it said he couldn’t guarantee anything. It may be too specialized.”

“Sounds interesting to me. He’d be a fool not to take it.”

“Thanks for your support.” Joe smiled. “But you’ve always been a history buff.” He put down his pad. “In fact … I may have something you may like. Found it in a used bookstore.”

He went into his trailer, then returned with a book which he handed to me. “Cover’s a little cheesy, and the writing is old-fashioned, but the story is fascinating.”

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