CHAPTER THIRTY
Friday, January 29

Libby almost felt bad bringing Al to Hope Springs. She really didn’t want to be bothered with him, but he called just as she was about to leave, asking if she had plans tonight. When he asked to come along, she opened her mouth to say no—but then she thought of Travis. With Al by her side she could avoid the thoughts and feelings that crept in where Travis was concerned. She’d have a buffer.

She was within a few feet of them both now. Al had his arm around her. Travis had the floor.

“First and foremost,” Travis was saying, “we’re giving thanks to Almighty God. We had special prayer for Grandma Geri on New Year’s Eve, and now midway through her chemo treatments, God has given a good report.”

“Yes, He has. Didn’t I say He would? Glory!” Aunt Gladys waved her hand like she was at church.

“Amen,” Janelle said. She was standing behind Grandma Geri, who was seated in one of the family room recliners.

Travis continued. “We don’t know what the future holds—for any of us—but today we know that the CT scan shows the tumor has shrunk and the spreading has stemmed. Folks, that’s all I need to know to celebrate tonight.”

Cheers of agreement went up in the room from friends and family. Many had shown up for the impromptu celebration, including Aunt Gladys and Uncle Warren and two of their grown children.

Travis looked to Todd, who walked over and put a hand on Grandma Geri’s shoulder. “All of us are used to Grandma Geri being a pillar of faith and strength,” he said, “but a cancer diagnosis is enough to shake anyone.” He addressed her directly. “I’m sure you’re bearing a lot more on the inside than you’re willing to show on the outside. Praise God for news that uplifts and gives you the strength to keep on keepin’ on.”

“You want to say something, Grandma?” Janelle asked.

Grandma Geri’s fingers were clasped in front of her. “If y’all want to know the truth . . . I suppose I always carried more on the inside than out. Not saying that’s a good thing.” She focused on those fingers. “Family as big as ours, there’s always something to carry.” She looked into people’s faces. “It could be three weeks, three months, or three years . . . I’m going home to Jesus. I don’t care so much about the when. I just don’t want to be carrying as much when I leave.”

No one seemed to know what to say.

“Well, you just went and got deep on us, huh, Momma?” Aunt Gladys said. “I don’t know what you’re planning to unload, but if it’s any of my business, please think twice.”

“I know that’s right,” Libby said. “Grandma knows everybody’s business.”

“There’s plenty more food,” Aunt Gladys announced. “Help yourselves.”

People shifted and began to talk and eat again. Libby held her breath as Travis moved in her direction. Keep going, keep going.

“Hey, Libby,” he said. His eyes always seemed to hold much more than was on the surface.

“Hey, Travis.”

He turned to Al and shook his hand. “Good to see you, man.” Travis took a step to continue on toward the kitchen.

“Is it?” Al said.

Libby frowned at him. What was he doing?

Travis backed up. “Come again?”

Al seemed to square his shoulders. He was six feet tall, which put him a couple inches shorter than Travis.

“I’m thinking you prefer it when Libby comes to Hope Springs by herself,” Al said. “Isn’t that why you invited her to church?”

Libby’s eyes grew wide. Al was reading her text messages?

Travis looked slightly amused, which was probably more than slightly irritating to Al.

“I invited her with the same motive I invite everybody to church—because I happen to think it’s good for the soul.” Travis smiled as naturally as if he were talking to Todd. “You’re welcome to come as well,” he added. “Service is at eleven.”

“My Sunday mornings are fine as they are, Pastor Brooks.”

Travis spread his hands. “Offer remains open. Like I said, good to see you.” He moved on.

Libby spoke under her breath. “What was that about?” She took Al’s arm and nudged him toward a corner of the room, out of the traffic.

“I’m not stupid, Libby,” Al said. “I can tell something’s up between you two. That’s why you’ve been coming to Hope Springs so much lately.”

“I come to Hope Springs because my grandmother is sick and my cousins are here. I can’t believe you.”

“And you’re telling me nothing’s going on with you and the preacher? Because you’ve clearly grown distant.” He looked down at her wrist. “I gave you that because I care about you.”

Libby sighed. “Al, there is nothing going on between Travis and me, but so what if there were? I’ve told you time and again that I don’t want a committed relationship. And you’ve apparently been checking my text messages?” She groaned inside as she unhooked the clasp on the bracelet. “I don’t think I should keep this.” She dropped it into his hand.

“This means we can’t keep seeing each other?”

“Not if you expect me to commit to you.”

They always say they understand, but in the end . . .

Al hesitated. “What is it, Libby? What keeps you from committing to me?”

She tried not to sigh aloud again. “It’s not you. I just . . . I’m not ready to be that serious with anyone right now.”

He held the bracelet up. “Wouldn’t be right to take it back. I knew the state of affairs when I gave it to you. I guess I just hoped it would help change things.”

She was itching to take it back, but then she’d feel obligated to keep seeing him. “I can’t, Al.”

He turned and walked out the front door without another word.

Libby found Janelle and pulled her into her bedroom, closing the door.

“What’s wrong?” Janelle asked.

“Al accused Travis of inviting me to church so he could get back with me.”

“To his face?”

“To his face.”

“Well . . . why would that be a problem anyway? I thought you and Al weren’t serious.”

“Exactly! He acted like I’d promised for better or for worse.” She held up her arm. “I gave it back.”

“I’m glad you did, Libby. That bracelet cost a lot of money, and if he had a different notion about the two of you—”

“Oh! Wait a minute . . .” She held up her phone and pushed a button. After a few seconds she spoke: “Al, I forgot to get my key from you. You weren’t planning to go to my apartment when you get back to Raleigh, were you?”

“I do have some of my things there,” he said, sighing. “Just call me when you get back, and I’ll stop by then.”

“Cool. Just making sure.” She hung up.

“He has a key to your apartment?”

“Jan, you’re not deaf.”

“So . . . were you two sleeping together?”

“Janelle . . . seriously? You think the guy would give me a diamond bracelet otherwise?”

“Well, no wonder he thought things were serious, Libby. When you’re sleeping with someone, it tends to be serious.”

“When you’re sleeping with someone, it tends to be serious, as in marriage. Al shouldn’t have let his feelings get involved.”

“How do you keep your feelings from getting involved?”

“I just . . . do. You know I’m not an emotional person. And I’m not letting anyone get close enough to hurt me.”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of?”

“It’s not a matter of fear. It’s just a fact.”

“Sounds like fear to me.”

“Oh, you’re just gonna tell me it’s fear.”

Janelle shrugged. “You know me. I call it like I see it.”

Libby sat on the bed and tucked her legs under her. “Okay, how are you calling it these days with Kory?”

“Love how you changed that subject.”

Libby smiled. “Thought you might.”

Janelle stretched across the bed beside her. “What do you mean, how am I calling it with Kory? There’s nothing to call.”

“Really, Jan? You’re gonna try that with me?”

“Kory is married, Libby.”

Libby looked at her watch. “For another week. Then what?”

Janelle shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Who knows?”

Libby thought about what she was saying. “I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. It’s probably still hard to imagine yourself with anyone but David—which I can totally see. You know how much I loved David.”

“I don’t think you were insensitive,” Janelle said. “David’s been gone two years. In my counseling group, they said it’s natural to want companionship at this point. Two people in our group have already gotten married again.”

“I remember that family reunion when we all met Kory. Seemed like you had fallen in love with the boy by the end of the weekend.”

“Oh, it wasn’t like that.”

Libby raised her eyebrows. “From the moment you met Friday night, the two of you were inseparable until that last night on Monday. You totally clicked . . . So I was wondering, now that you’re kind of together again . . .”

Janelle switched to lotus style, sighing. “The truth is I’m afraid to let myself think about the possibility. Whenever I’m around him now, it’s just so . . . nice. I start to think, What if? What if this is really our chance? What if we really fall in love?” She sighed again. “Then I remind myself that life isn’t about happy endings. I’ve seen that firsthand.”

“Knock, knock.”

Libby and Janelle looked toward the door, then at one another.

“Come in,” Janelle said.

Travis opened the door but stayed in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m about to go, and Grandma Geri said you put aside my sweet potato pie for safekeeping—thank you very much—and she doesn’t know where it is.”

Janelle hit Libby’s arm. “I didn’t tell you—Grandma got a burst of energy today. First time she’s felt like baking since the diagnosis. She sent me out for sweet potatoes and a bunch of other ingredients for all the desserts out there.”

“I thought Aunt Gladys made those.”

“Nope. Grandma. So apparently she knows sweet potato pie is Travis’s favorite, and she made him his own pie—”

“Why are you acting all surprised?” Travis stepped farther in. “You know that’s my girl. We flow like that.”

Janelle ignored him. “—and told me to find a hiding place for it so nobody would eat it. Know where I put it?”

“Far left upper cabinet, second shelf.”

“Our favorite hiding place for scrumptious desserts.” She got up. “I’ll go get it.”

Travis moved to follow her.

“Travis.” Libby got up from the bed.

He turned.

“I want to apologize . . . for what happened out there.”

“No need to apologize. Everything’s cool.”

She wanted to say something more to him, but she didn’t know what. And it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d already left.