Lillie knew all of this. Caroline knew she knew.
“Don’t get me wrong...I’m not complaining. Or looking for sympathy.” Caroline’s gaze was direct now as she started to rock again. “Quite the opposite. My past has made me stronger.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Tell me, Caro. You have an entire town of people here who love you. Who will wrap their arms around you and see you and your family through whatever lies ahead. Good or bad.
“I don’t know how to live with so much happiness.” The words came out in a rush. “When things were bad, I got up every morning looking forward to whatever possibility the day might bring—whatever possibility I could create to counteract the challenges. Now I get up every morning to John’s kiss and that look in his eyes. The kids greet me with squeals and smiles. My biological twin sister is attached to my hip. I feel all the love around me and I’m scared to death.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing any of it. I’m afraid to go to Italy. Afraid to take a trip up the mountain or to go to the doctor. I’m afraid that I’m going to wake up and it’ll all be gone.”
The older woman burst into sobs.
Lillie dropped to the floor at her friend’s feet, and took both of Caro’s hands.
She could feel her friend’s pain as though it were her own. Could remember waking up with that same fear shortly after she’d found out she was pregnant with Braydon.
And look what had happened.
“You’re a strong woman,” Lillie said, no longer in counselor mode, just being her. She needed Caro to succeed where she’d failed. “You need to use that strength, that courage, and enjoy all of life’s blessings without looking back.” Someone had to.
Lillie didn’t realize she had tears streaming down her own face until Caroline reached out and gently wiped them away.
“Thank you,” Caro said. “I knew I just had to talk to you.”
She hadn’t said anything. She’d blubbered.
“If it would help, I’d be happy to stay with your little ones when you go to Italy,” she said.
“I have always wanted to go to Italy.”
“I know.”
“Life is good.”
“Yep.”
But it wasn’t easy.
Papa and Gayle had been wrong when they’d said that she was too closed off—that she didn’t allow her friends into her inner sanctum.
It didn’t get much more personal than this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JON WAS ON campus, heading toward the library after class on Friday night when Lillie called him back.
He answered immediately. Asked her how she was and told her, when she asked, that he was fine.
He’d keep things proper and businesslike, but damn, it was good to hear her voice.
Veering off the main path, he found a bench beneath a tree and sat as he took the call, watching the other students make their way to their evening activities. Even in the dark, he could see clearly due to all the streetlamps. Montford spared no expense when it came to safety.
“You said in your message that you were free tonight,” Lillie
was saying.