Page 77 of The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep

Tanner’s head cocks back on his shoulders like Heaven might help him. “I’m the only lead. ‘Side from Herman.”

My heart does that painful squeezy thing.

Tate had been a lead.

I remind myself of that girl-boss-power hashtag and give him a shining smile. “We’re going to need to hire someone soon. With the summer rush and Herman going for knee surgery…”

Herman takes that moment to join us from his office in the back room. He tries to hide his limp with a stride that is long and sure. But it’s there. He’s in pain. A lot of pain.

And he hasn’t been willing to hire. Not since…

“We’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry about the business.” Herman claps Tanner on the shoulder with a weathered hand that has seen so many years of sun, its permanently tan. “Tanner will oversee things on the job sites, and I’ve got you ladies to keep the office afloat.”

I hedge, “Everette wouldn’t mind working on an as needed basis.” I twist the diamond stud of my earing. Tate bought them for our sixth wedding anniversary. “He’s worked for my dad for forever running tours. He’s great, reliable, and handy.”

Herman holds up a hand. Elise sighs as she folds her arms over her chest.

Herman declines as politely, but firmly, as he can. “Everette’s a nice boy, but we’re good.”

At thirty-six, Everette is no boy. He’s also entirely capable, with an experience in carpentry and framing. He works for Dad now on the tours because he moved to Rubble Ridge for passion, but I’ve talked to him, and he said he’d be willing to extend a hand. I don’t tell Herman that.

Like I have since Tate passed, I smile and nod. “Sure, Herman.”

Elise shakes her head but says nothing. She saves that for private, I know.

Still, Herman won’t change his mind.

Everyone takes a different path on the way to overcoming grief. This is Herman’s version of my lazy-day clothes.

Until he can get over the hurdle of hiring someone to fill Tate’s role in the company…he’ll keep getting knocked down with the punches.

4

I WANT TO GO TO HEAVEN

APRIL 2023 – PRESENT DAY

“She had a good day.” Kelsey tells me, plucking a loose bobby pin from her hair to pin the fly away’s back again. It’s obviously not her first re-pin. She’d have better success by doing a whole new bun and pin rather than these quick fixes. “We did footprints in the sand. You’ll get it next week for Easter.”

I kick off my pumps and start my tip-toe dash through the just-mopped space. My stockings are going to get soggy.

“She loves to craft.”

“Oh, that she does.”

Aka—Mabel loves to get messy.

I ask over my shoulder, “They’re outside?”

Kelsey hangs the mop. “Sure are.”

They mop every day at this time. Whenever the kiddos head out to play, it’s a dash to clean. I always leave with soggy stockings.

Through the wall of windows, I see her bright yellow jacket with the pink printed daisies. Her rubber boots match and I smile as she huffs it across the turf with her mini shopping cart, pausing to gab with one of the gals. Her hand is flying, much like her Gran’s flies when she gabs with the gals. My daughter is a mini-Elise, pretty green eyes and all. The feminine version of her father.

I smile through another painful squeeze, like a fist gripping my heart far too tightly. Then I step outside into the play area. As soon as she sees me, she gives a girlish shriek and abandons her cart with haphazard plastic food and—is that a doll leg? It appears Gerald has been up to his amputations again.

My arms close around my daughter as I drop a kiss to her golden hair. “Hey sweetie, I see you’ve been shopping.”