“HOW’RE THINGS GOING?” MAEVE ASKED, TAKING A SIP OF HER COFFEE. The two sisters had met for a quick breakfast before they each had to be at work.
“Okay,” Macey said.
Maeve raised her eyebrows. “Just okay? Why? What’s going on?”
Macey wrapped her hands around her mug, warming her hands on the chilly autumn morning. “I don’t know . . . Harper’s been with us for more than a week and it still feels like she’s keeping us—or at least me—at arm’s length. She adores Keeper and Big Mac—she’s constantly wrapping her arms around them, and she even seems to be warming up to Ben, but with me . . . it’s different. I mean, it’s getting better—the other day when I picked her up from school, she seemed to open up a little . . . I even got her to laugh, but it doesn’t last and there’re moments when she still seems so wary.”
Maeve nodded, swallowing a bite of her Sunny Day Biscuit—a special at another of their favorite breakfast spots, Back in the Day Bakery.
“It’s going to take time,” Maeve said, brushing the crumbs off her lips with her napkin. “It’s a big adjustment and she hasn’t really had anyone in her life she can trust. Well, besides Cora.”
“I know,” Macey said, cutting the cranberry-orange scone on her plate in half. “But she became best friends with you in just one afternoon!”
Maeve laughed. “Oh, well, I can’t help it if I have a wonderful, warm personality that draws people in.”
“I have a wonderful, warm personality . . . and I work with little kids. You work with old people!”
Maeve laughed again. “Hey! My sundowners would take exception to that—they’d say they are young at heart . . . and I think, in some ways, old folks are like little kids. Besides, Harper is sort of an old soul. She’s been through—and seen—so much in her short nine years I think she’s wise beyond her years.”
Macey nodded thoughtfully. “I just thought it would be easier.”
“How’s she doing in school?”
“She loves it. She’s making friends—there’s a little boy who sits at the desk next to her—Sam—who she talks about all the time, and her teacher, Mrs. Holland, says she’s very smart and adores the two guinea pigs they have in the classroom—their names are Harold and Maude, and she wondered if Harper might like to bring them home over winter break.” Macey laughed. “I haven’t told Ben yet—just what we need—more animals! But how could I say no? She’s like an animal whisperer . . . oh, and did I tell you she’s an amazing artist?”
Maeve smiled. “No, you didn’t. She and Gage will have to get together—he loves to draw, too. . . . Did you know he went to SCAD?”
Macey took a sip of her coffee and nodded. “Ben told me. He can’t figure out why Gage wants to work construction.”
“To pay the bills,” Maeve said, smiling. “His drawings are incredible, but it’s hard to make ends meet. Speaking of construction, though, I heard they finished the house.”
Macey nodded. “Just about—Ben said there’s a couple little things left—they have to oversee the installation of a granite lamppost and some landscaping, but the Jacksons are moving in next weekend—just in time for Thanksgiving.” She broke off a piece of her scone. “Then it’s on to the next job. No rest for the weary . . . just like on a farm. By the way, did you ever find out why Gage has no interest in his parents’ dairy farm?”
“No,” Maeve answered, shaking her head. “He always says it would take a book.”
Macey gestured to her plate. “Want the other half of my scone? I didn’t touch it.”
“You don’t want it?”
“No. It’s very good, but you can have it.” She pushed the plate toward her sister.
“You twisted my arm,” Maeve said with a grin. She wrapped it in an extra napkin and tucked it into her bag. Then she checked the time on her phone, and took another sip of her coffee. “We should get going, but I think you need to relax about Harper. It sounds like she’s doing great in school, and that is huge,” she added, smiling. “It’s just going to take time to adjust to all these changes.”
“I know,” Macey said resignedly.
“How has she been feeling?”
“That’s another thing—she never complains, but she gets tired easily and sometimes I catch her rubbing her chest. When I ask her about it, she says it’s fine, but I don’t know whether to believe her. . . .”
Maeve nodded. “I’m sure she’d let you know if she really didn’t feel good.”
“I hope so.” She smiled. “And as Grandy would say, ‘It’s always something!’”
“True, but she’d also say to put it in God’s hands.”
Macey smiled. “Truer words were never spoken!” She drained the last of her coffee. “Ready?”
Maeve nodded. “Is Mom really letting you have Thanksgiving?”
“She is,” Macey said, standing. “She said it’s time she passed on the torch.”
“Wow! I can’t believe it!” Maeve said as they walked outside.
“I know, right? That’s exactly what Ben said.”
“Well, I’m sure you can pull it off—you’re amazing, and don’t let anyone tell you different.” Maeve gave her sister a hug. “No worries about Harper. She’ll come around,” she added with a smile.
“Thanks,” Macey said, “and thanks for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned to go, but then looked back. “Let me know what I can bring.”
“I will . . . extra wine, for sure!”
Maeve laughed. “You got it!”