The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,93

for a fact.”

Getting out of the car was both easier and more difficult than it had been the last time. Easier because Jeff was there. More difficult because she knew this time she was actually going to leave Hunter in the infant room with Sandra.

Merry took the diaper bag while Jeff wrestled Hunter’s car seat free. Together they turned and crossed the parking lot. They were ten feet from the door when Merry saw Eugenie approaching from the opposite direction.

“Good morning,” Eugenie called, smiling kindly.

For once, Merry didn’t have tears in her eyes when she spoke to the other woman. “Hello, Eugenie.”

“Big day today?” There was no censure in her expression. Just encouragement and maybe a bit of humor.

“Finally,” Merry answered. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Eugenie nodded toward the car seat in Jeff’s hand. “Hunter will do fine. And so will you.”

“I know.” When it came to children, there were no guarantees, no infallible choices or perfect scenarios. Life happened, even to your kids. The most frightening thing was accepting that. Ironically, it was also the most liberating.

Someday Hunter would grow up and leave her. As possessive as she felt toward her children, she’d come to realize that they weren’t really hers to keep. God had given them to her on loan, like the master in the parable who entrusted his treasure to his servants when he went on a journey. Parents had a choice. Merry had a choice. She could let her children breathe freely and thrive, or she could try to protect them so much that they suffocated. While the first one was more painful for her, it would be far more beneficial for her kids.

“We can do this,” she heard Jeff mutter under his breath as they walked down the hall toward Hunter’s classroom.

“Yes,” she reassured him. “We can.”

Sometimes letting go was the most loving thing to do. But it was also the hardest lesson Merry had ever learned in her life.

Camille and Maria met at Tallulah’s for an early lunch. Camille knew that Maria was curious why she’d invited her, but she hadn’t wanted to give any hint of what she had planned. Her decision was too new, too painful, but Maria could be trusted to keep Camille’s secret in confidence.

“Hey.” Camille greeted Maria, who had arrived first and already sat at a table by the large plate-glass windows at the front of the café. “Sorry I’m late. I had to get someone to cover the shop for me.”

Maria smiled in sympathy. “I was afraid I might not make it at all, but Stephanie put in a rare appearance.”

“I’m glad it worked out.” She slid into the chair opposite Maria. “I hope this doesn’t seem weird.”

“I have to admit I’m curious.”

Tallulah appeared, sliding menus in front of them and taking their drink orders. When she’d retreated, Camille proceeded straight to the matter that had troubled her so much over the last few weeks.

“I’ve made a decision,” she told Maria, “and, in a way, it involves you and your family.”

Maria arched an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s intriguing.”

Camille paused, unsure how to share what she wanted to say to the other woman. She didn’t want to hurt Maria’s pride or offend her. “I need to swear you to secrecy,” she said. “At least for a little while.”

“Are you sick?” Maria’s question was immediate and anxious.

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

Maria sank back in her chair, clearly relieved. “I was afraid that—”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s actually a good thing. For you, I mean.”

“Now I really am intrigued.”

“I was wondering—”

Tallulah interrupted her as she set their glasses of iced tea on the table. “What can I get for you ladies today?”

Maria ordered the meat loaf special. Camille opted for the diet plate.

“I feel like a glutton next to you,” Maria said, her words lighthearted.

“I’m still trying to make up for all those casseroles and brownies people dropped by after my mom’s funeral.”

Maria nodded. “It’s been a tough year, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. That’s why I thought of you.”

“Thought of me?”

“I’m going to leave Sweetgum.” There. She’d said it. Made it real.

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m not.”

Maria sank backward in her chair. “But what about—”

“Dante.” Camille felt the familiar wave of grief rise up within her. Would she ever come to a place in her life where loss didn’t threaten to overwhelm her on a regular basis? First her father, then her mother. Now Dante.

“I thought you two were—”

“I’m going to break it off.”

“Wow.”

“I’ve been accepted at Middle Tennessee State. I want