in the Glen. There’s not a blade of grass I haven’t walked over at some point.”
“You own the place? I apologize. I didn’t realize—”
“No need for apology. How could you have known? Losing my Cameron last year was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, but when I realized I might lose the home we’d lived in together for all of our married lives—” Mary took a deep breath. “Life going wrong is the real test of a family, isn’t it? Brodie had a great job in London, but he moved back here and took this on. He gave up a lot for us, and that makes me feel guilty, but not so guilty I’ll tell him to sell this place and live his own life. Which I suppose makes me selfish. But when I’m here, I feel as if part of Cameron is still here with me. And now I’m talking too much.”
“Not at all.” It was a relief to listen to someone else’s problems. It stopped her focusing on her own.
The thought made her flush with shame. When had she become so selfish?
This was Mary’s house. Her dining room, where she’d laughed with her husband and enjoyed meals with her children. She was entertaining strangers in order to keep her family home.
Gayle thought about her own bruised and fractured family. She’d done everything she could to make her daughters independent, to the point of pushing them away. She’d believed that to be more important than protecting the family unit. She’d taught them to rely on themselves and not need anyone. And where had that got her? Regret flashed through Gayle, along with the doubt she’d felt that day in her office when she’d been hovering on the edges of unconsciousness. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. What was the point in wondering if you’d made mistakes as a parent when there was nothing you could do to fix it?
She decided to follow Mary’s example and ignore her own thoughts. “It must be difficult having strangers in your home.”
“I can’t tell you what a relief it is. There is nothing I love more than having a house full of people. Noise drowns out thoughts, don’t you find? Right now I don’t much like my thoughts. Hearing your granddaughter laughing this morning was one of the best things I’ve heard in a long time. Being a grandmother must be a wonderful thing. I envy you.”
Gayle was used to being envied, but not for that.
She thought about her morning with Tab. The innocence and simplicity of it. Tab’s small hand tucked trustingly into hers. There was no history. No judgment. Just the moment.
Did you know that every snowflake is different, Nanna? Mommy says they’re like people.
“It is a wonderful thing.”
And she wasn’t going to lose it. She’d do whatever it took.
Her relationship with her own children had been about preparing them for the world.
What was her role with a granddaughter?
She didn’t have one, which was perhaps why she’d found their brief time together that morning so lighthearted and refreshing. She’d been able to enjoy the moment without that soul crushing sense of responsibility.
Focused on scooping up snow with one very excited little girl, she’d briefly forgotten all her problems. That exhausting tension had eased. Her brain had cleared. Life had seemed simple.
And then Ella had arrived, anxious at first because she hadn’t trusted her mother with her child.
She wasn’t trusted with her own grandchild.
The pain of it was shocking. Worse than the bang on the head.
Maybe she hadn’t done everything right, but did they really think she was that bad a mother? Or maybe it was part of life that everyone chose to do things differently from their parents.
She thought of Ella, crouched down eye level with her daughter, listening. Attentive.
Had she given her daughters that much time and attention?
Probably not, because she’d been working to build a safe financial future for them all.
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
Didn’t she always urge people to own their actions?
Mary was still nursing the coffeepot. “I’m longing for one of my two to give me grandchildren, but these days it isn’t the done thing to ask, is it? I daren’t raise the subject. I did it once and I was soundly scolded by both my daughter and my son. Do you have to watch what you say with your girls?”
Gayle gave a hysterical laugh. Every conversation with them was like walking over broken glass. If you trod too heavily, you’d be lacerated. “I certainly do.” She