3

“Are you sure you have to go?” Carrie slumped on the bed, her knee butting against Bailey’s red canvas duffel, now stuffed to the gills with clothes.

“It’s Agnes. I’m all the family she had.” She shoved a pair of jeans in. Had she already packed jeans? Had she remembered to pack a sweatshirt?

She sighed, unable to put any serious thought into what she ought to bring. Her mind still swirled with the devastating reality of the news. Agnes was gone—and she was going back to Yancey. Gus had called back, letting her know the funeral was set for Tuesday.

Her stomach churned, and she forced down another saltine.

“That’s not technically true,” Carrie said.

“What’s not?”

“You aren’t her only family member.” Carrie worked on refolding the discarded pile of clothes Bailey had decided not to take.

“I am for all intents and purposes.” Wrestling with the zipper, Bailey managed to close the bulging duffel, then hefted it over her shoulder, carrying it to the living room. She plopped it on the sofa and turned to look for her book.

Carrie padded after her. “You don’t think she’ll be there?”

Bailey’s shoulders dropped. She prayed not. Going home was horrific enough without the added trauma of seeing her mother. “Evelyn was never around while Agnes was alive. Why show up now that she’s dead?”

“They were sisters.”

“Family doesn’t exist for my mother.” Bailey found her book and slid it in the duffel’s front pocket. “She lives for no one but herself. Always has. Always will.”

“Why don’t you let me come with you? I’m sure I could get some time off. You should have someone there with you. Someone other than your mother.”

Bailey hugged Carrie. “Such a good friend, but you said yourself if you take any more time off, you won’t have a job to come back to.” Which was true, but it wasn’t the main reason Bailey wanted her best friend to stay behind. She’d met Carrie after becoming a Christian. Carrie was part of her new life, not her past, and she needed to keep the two separate.

“I’m sure if I explain . . .” Carrie started.

“Not necessary.” Bailey turned and headed for the kitchen. “I’ve got some Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer I need to finish off before I leave. Wanna help me?”

Carrie smiled. “Way to change the subject.”

“Is that a no?”

“Yeah, right.” Carrie made a beeline for the freezer. “I call dibs on Chunky Monkey.”

A pint of Chunky Monkey later, Bailey saw Carrie out and then cut the lights. Bone-tired, she crawled into bed, not ready to face what lay ahead.

Yancey.

She was going back to Yancey in the morning.

Tears tumbled down her cheeks.

Lord, I can’t do this.

You don’t have a choice, came the soft reply.