“Now’s not the time.” Eve drew a deep breath, savoring the quiet. This was probably the last calm moment of her busy day. There were never enough staff at Oak Hill, which meant she was constantly running around while there.
Katie skipped out of the bathroom, a splotch of toothpaste on the yoke of her blue dress. “Is it time to go?”
“Yes.” Eve rubbed at Katie’s toothpaste stain with a wet dish towel, noticing she had a white stain of her own on her pink scrub top. She swiped the towel across it a few times before repeating, “It’s going to be one of those days.”
“I should take Katie to preschool for you,” Mom said, although she was still in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. “I’ve got to get dressed for the garden club meeting this morning. And then the Spring Festival board meeting after that.” She was very active in community service.
“No need to drive her. Katie’s school is on my way.” Eve grabbed Katie’s lunch from the fridge, slung her tote with her medical textbooks to her shoulder, and hurried toward the front door. “Bye, Mom. Come on, Katie.”
Katie was hot on her heels. “Bye, Grandma!”
Once outside, Eve buckled Katie into her car booster seat with the efficiency of a woman who could start an IV in a moving ambulance in the midst of a thunderstorm. She got behind the wheel, taking a moment to glance at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Shoot.”
“Are we late, Mama?” Katie asked, crinkling her lunch bag.
“Only a little,” Eve said, starting the car. “Which for us is practically on time.”
Katie giggled. “We’re like turtles. Slow, but wise.”
“Slow? Yes. Wise?” Eve smiled to herself. “This turtle forgot to put on mascara.” She supposed there were worse things to overlook. Eve wasn’t going back inside. It wasn’t as if she’d see a potential husband at work today. Her co-workers were either ancient, married, women, or all three.
Eve pulled out of the driveway, backing past Mom’s garden gnome collection—some of whom were wearing bandages courtesy of Katie’s doctor play kit.
“Mama, is Daddy coming to my performance at the Spring Festival?” Although Katie had been at this preschool less than a month, she was going to be part of the singing performance a week from Saturday.
“He said he’d be there.” Eve stepped on the gas. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Daddy today.”
“I think he’s lonely,” Katie said solemnly. “I think he wants us back.”
“We’ve talked about this before, bug.” Eve came to a stop at one of the few lights in town. “Your father and I get along better when we don’t live together.”
“But Daddy—”
“Is a grown man, bug.” Eve glanced at her daughter over her shoulder. “Someday, he’ll find someone new to marry.”
“That’s what my friend Meggie said.” Katie pouted. “I don’t want a new mommy.”
Someone honked.
Eve turned around to find a green light. She drove through the intersection, passing the Coffee Corner. “If Daddy remarried, you’d have two mommies.”
“And if you remarried, I’d have two daddies,” Katie said brightly.
“Wouldn’t that be fun,” Eve deadpanned.
“Maybe.” Katie sounded as if she was thinking about a stepfather with prime intensity. “Maybe if he was a cowboy. But he’d have to believe in unicorns.”
Eve sighed as she turned into the preschool parking lot. “I’ll keep that in mind, bug.”
Chapter Four
“What do you mean my grandmother’s bed is taken?” Hayden couldn’t stop his voice from rising. It was closing in on noon. He had a livestock inventory to take. The taxman was breathing down his neck. And now, the Oak Hill director had delivered more bad news. “My grandmother has been living here for the past three weeks. She didn’t even check out properly yesterday, according to you. How could you give her bed away?”
Up and down the main hallway of Oak Hill, residents and staff poked their heads out to see what the commotion was about, Evie among them. She wore pink scrubs and sneakers, looking calm, like she had her life together. Her blond hair was in a perky ponytail, something that only added fuel to Hayden’s annoyance. Perky meant happy, and he was anything but.
“It’s an unfortunate state of affairs.” Laurie Burke, the facility administrator, wore an ill-fitting black suit and a frown that seemed permanently etched into her round features. She swung a thick blue binder from one arm into the crook of her other, as if she’d considered bopping Hayden with it but had decided not to. “In a case like this, we recommend family circle the wagons for home care.”
Circle the wagons?