“I’d love to come. Thank you. I can’t wait to see your home. And work won’t be a problem. I think I’ve earned the right to ease up a little, and I’ve already decided I’m going to delegate more. I’d like to spend more time learning to be a grandmother. I’d like to be there for you so that when you need five minutes to go to the bathroom without Tab firing questions through the door, you know she’s safe. I’m going to read up on handling tired children. What do you think?”
Ella smiled. “I think Tab is a very lucky girl to have a grandmother who cares as much as you do.”
The approval and validation wiped out all the doubt and insecurity that Gayle had been feeling.
“I hope so.” She sat, side by side with her daughter. “I’m going to make it so.”
Kirstie
They sat in the kitchen, the way they so often had when they were growing up and wild weather had kept them trapped indoors. Her mother was stirring something on the stove, her brother had his head down, focusing on a calculation. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, which took her straight back to childhood.
It was all so familiar, and yet unfamiliar because her father should have been there, too, sitting in his usual place at the end of the table, newspaper spread out in front of him, steaming mug of tea by his hand.
Kirstie was still getting used to the fact that they were no longer four. That they would never be four again. It had been almost a year since her father had died, and still she walked into the kitchen and was shocked not to see him.
She hadn’t known it was possible to miss someone this much.
“Eat something, Kirstie.” Her mother put a plate in front of her. “You didn’t eat earlier, and you need your strength.”
Tempting her on the plate was a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs flecked with ground black pepper, and hot slices of toast, the bread freshly cut from the loaf that was still scenting the kitchen.
Her mother thought food cured everything.
Not wanting to offend or draw attention to herself, she took an unenthusiastic bite, tasted perfection and decided maybe her mother had a point.
“She seems to know what she’s talking about, I’ll give you that.” She took another mouthful. “But if I focus on working outdoors with the reindeer—” and she wanted that so badly; she wanted to go back from tending people to tending her animals “—that’s going to make a lot of work for you, Mum.” And she felt guilty about it. She should be working in the lodge with her mother, sleeves rolled up. The thought of it was a ton weight pressing down on her. Whenever she was indoors she kept gazing out the window, wanting to be out there.
“I’ve already spoken to Eileen in the village.” Her mother joined them at the table, coffee in hand. “She thinks her niece would love to come and help me out. If the work is for her, then we’ll formalize it.”
“It will be hard.”
“When have you ever seen me afraid of hard work? I never wanted to work in an office, that’s true. I never wanted the nine to five. You understand that, because you never wanted it, either. I can’t imagine a life without this place, and these mountains. This way, I get both. And you get to be with the reindeer. Seems they’re going to be an important part of what we’re doing here.”
“If you’re sure.” Released from the pressure of guilt, Kirstie felt the first stirrings of excitement. No more stripping beds. No more polishing windows, plumping cushions or washing dishes. She was going to be outdoors. She’d have cold toes instead of wrinkled hands, and that suited her just fine.
Her mother put her cup down. “I am sure, although I’d be grateful if the two of you could cover the place for a few weeks in April if we happen to be busy then.”
Kirstie took a bite of toast. “What’s happening in April? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to New York, to stay with Gayle. She’s invited me, and I said yes.”
Kirstie put her toast down. “New York? But—” she exchanged a glance with her brother “—you’ve never traveled outside Europe. You and Dad always—”
“We always stayed close to home. I know. But it’s just me now. And I’m going to America, to see Gayle. She’s going to show me the sights. We’re going to spend some time together. She’s going to set up a meeting with her publisher to discuss our book idea. I’ll probably cook a few Scottish treats to take to that meeting.” She slid her hands round the mug. “Am I nervous? Yes, I am, but I’m doing it anyway.”
Brodie smiled. “Good for you, Mum. That’s great. Inspiring.”
“Gayle is an inspirational woman.” Mary abandoned her coffee and pulled a book out of her bag. “Brave New You. I read it to be polite, because I wanted to know more about the family, and I ended up underlining passages.” She pushed it across the table to Kirstie. “You should read it. But I’d like it back when you’ve finished it.”
Kirstie took the book but didn’t look at it. She was too busy looking at her mother. “You seem different. You’ve been so sad—”
“I’m still sad. Part of me will always be sad, and there are days when I’m crushed by it. But the truth is that sometimes life sends you change that you wouldn’t have chosen, and this was one of those times. I had no choice about losing Cameron, but I do have a choice about what I do with my life from now on. I miss him terribly, but I intend to get out of bed and keep living, no matter how hard that feels. And all the memories can come along with me.”
They all handled it in different ways, Kirstie thought. She handled it by being outdoors. By throwing herself into hard, physical work. She’d missed that.
And now she desperately wanted it back.
“Will this work, Brodie? Truly?” She’d been against the whole idea, but now she badly wanted it to work.