The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,50

it’s true, a voice in Merry’s head said, and for the first time she felt like maybe day care wouldn’t be the nightmare she’d feared.

“All right. I’m off.” She wiggled her fingers at Hunter, stood, and moved toward the door. She made herself walk through it, thinking that the first day hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared.

At least not until she was three steps down the hallway and she heard her baby burst into tears.

Don’t go back. Don’t go back. If she did, she might never be able to walk away again.

Please, God. Give me the strength to do this. She sent up the silent, heartfelt prayer. And somehow, with help from a power greater than her own, her feet kept moving, all the way to the car. Only then did she let go and let the tears wash down her cheeks.

Esther braved the crisp November morning to sit on the back veranda and drink her coffee. It was a ritual she’d followed for years, as sacred in some ways as church, and since Frank’s death she’d found herself clinging to the familiar more and more, even as she knew it to be slipping away. After hours of meetings and sifting through financial statements and visits from real estate agents and appraisers, she had submitted to the inevitable.

Although November was the worst time possible to enter the real estate market, the For Sale sign would go up in the yard today. Soon her home would belong to someone else. She gripped her coffee cup more tightly. No point in giving in to the grief that squeezed her heart. Things were going to change. They had to change. Franks death had taken that choice out of her hands.

The dog, which her grandson had named Ranger, had come outside with her and disappeared into the backyard. She glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since she’d seen or heard him. The mutt had fully recovered from his injuries and was now eating her out of house and home, not to mention still sleeping on the pillow next to her. If she were honest, Esther had done little to discipline the dog. It was easier to give in to his demands—feed him the extra treats, let him gnaw on her Cole Haan sandals. Residual guilt and the miasma of despair had done their damage on her once indomitable will. Now even a stray mutt could get the better of her.

Wearily, Esther stood and went in search of the wayward animal—and found him around the corner of the house, digging up one of her prize rosebushes.

“Ranger!” She raced forward, ignoring the hot coffee that sloshed over her hand. “Get out of there.” Her robe flapped behind her, her progress slowed by her slip-on house shoes.

Ranger ignored her and kept his nose in the hole, the dirt flying up behind him in an arc. When Esther reached him, she leaned down to grab his collar. He turned and growled at her, deep in his throat. She snatched her hand back.

“Stop it.” She glanced around and spied the garden hose coiled on its rack on the side of the house. She reached over, yanked off a length of the hose, and turned on the spigot. Spray erupted, and she turned it on him.

The dog leaped into the air with a yowl. He landed with a thump and then cowered, his head buried between his front paws.

“That’s it. I’ve had it.” Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She was fond of the dog—despite her best intentions, she’d let herself get attached. She could put up with him scratching his private parts and begging for food, and she could even deal with him relieving himself in the upstairs hallway. But her roses were her passion. This time, he’d gone too far.

Esther grabbed Ranger by the collar and dragged him back to the house. He whimpered and cast longing looks toward the half-mutilated rosebush. She shoved him inside the back door and shut it firmly behind them.

Since she had no idea where else to turn, Esther picked up the phone and made another appointment with Dr. Everton. Clearly it was time for some professional help, and the elderly vet would know what to do.

Thirty minutes later, she was showered, dressed, and headed out the door. The fact that she’d hit Ranger with her car had done nothing to dim his enjoyment of hopping in the passenger seat and going for a spin. Esther rolled down the window