Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 Read Free Page A

while… He didn’t understand why Megan thought it was important to pack up the remnants of her mother’s life so soon. When she’d arrived with the cardboard boxes, Troy hadn’t argued, but frankly, he didn’t see the necessity of rushing into this.
    â€œMost of them are outdated now.” Megan held up a pink sweater, one Sandy had always loved.
    â€œLeave everything here for now,” he suggested.
    â€œNo.” The vehemence with which his daughter responded surprised Troy.
    â€œMegan, let’s not do something we might regret later.”
    â€œNo,” she said again, shaking her head. “Mom’s gone. She’ll never hold her grandchildren. She’ll never go shopping with me again. She’ll never share a recipe with me. She’ll…she’ll…” Tears rained down her pale cheeks.
    Troy felt utterly incapable of easing her grief. He’d never been good at dealing with emotions and was at an even greater loss now. Megan was an only child and she’d been close to her mother. Both Sandy and Troy had wanted more children. For years, they’d tried for a second child, until after the third miscarriage, when Troy had said enough. They should be grateful they had a beautiful daughter, he’d told her, instead of yearning for a larger family.
    â€œIt’s only been two months,” he reminded Megan as gently as possible.
    â€œNo, Dad,” she said. “It’s been a lot longer than that.”
    Troy understood this far better than Megan seemed to realize. In the end, Sandy barely resembled the woman he’d married. Her death, while tragic, was a release from the physical nightmare that had become her reality. Sandy had lived with MS for at least thirty years. Not until after she miscarried the third pregnancy had she been tested. Then, and only then, were the physicians able to put a name to the seemingly random symptoms she’d been experiencing for years. Multiple sclerosis.
    â€œLet’s not donate anything just yet,” Troy said.
    â€œMom’s gone, ” Megan repeated in the same emotionally charged tone. “We both have to accept it.”
    Troy didn’t have any choice but to accept the fact that his wife was dead. He wanted to tell Megan that he was well aware Sandy was gone. He was the one who walked into an empty house every night, the one who slept alone in a big bed.
    Ninety per cent of his free time had been spent at the nursing home with Sandy. Now he was bereft and at loose ends. He knew he’d never be the same. Like him, Megan was hurting and she needed to vent her grief, so he said nothing.
    â€œI’ll help you pack everything up and I’ll put the boxes in the basement,” he murmured. “When you’re ready…when we both are, I’ll bring them upstairs again. Then, and only then, should we think about donating your mother’s things to charity. If we decide to do it, I’ll ask Pastor Flemming to suggest an agency. There might even be one at the church.” If not, he’d go to St. Vincent de Paul or the Salvation Army, both organizations Sandy had supported.
    For a moment it looked as if Megan wanted to argue with him.
    â€œAgreed?” he pressed.
    His daughter reluctantly nodded. Glancing at her watch, she gnawed on her lower lip. That told him how close she was to breaking down. “Craig will be home any minute. I should leave.”
    â€œGo.” He gestured toward the door.
    His daughter hesitated. “But the bedroom’s a mess.”
    â€œI’ll take care of it.”
    She shook her head. “That’s unfair, Dad. I…I didn’t mean for you to have to deal with all this.”
    â€œAll I’m going to do is fold everything, put it inside these boxes and haul them downstairs.”
    â€œYou’re sure?” she asked uncertainly.
    He nodded. The truth was, Troy would rather be alone right now.
    She edged