there, she and Johnny having started their own life with their own friends and their own traditions right here in Montana.
Yes, Susan had her husband and babies, and Carolyne, though she knew would always be welcomed, was no longer needed here.
Susan and Johnny needed time alone. Carolyne might have helped at first, but now she was in the way.
She felt in the way with her son, Dakota, as well. He was the pastor of a growing church that took up most of his time, and he didn’t need her anymore, either.
Her husband had died ten years ago, and Carolyne found herself at loose ends. Dakota was so busy with the church that she rarely saw him. He did, however, still live at home with her. She cooked meals, but many days he was so caught up in church work that he missed the meals completely.
She loved him, but she still felt very alone.
Both of her kids were adults.
What was supposed to happen when her kids grew up? What did she have left to look forward to? A simple life, spent growing old in the same house she’d lived in for the last thirty-five years? Would her obituary read that she was fond of puttering in the garden, or that her flower beds took up all of her time? Would her friends say that, yes, she was the one waiting each day for her son to eventually come home and regale her with tales of what went on in his life?
Cheryl Wolverton
19
She sighed.
In the other room she heard the phone ring.
Moments later, Cokie entered the room where Carolyne sat, baby in her arms.
Cokie was of Asian descent and one of the nicest women Carolyne had met in Montana. Cokie was quiet.
She didn’t talk much except to the children. She stayed busy cleaning, cooking or being there for the babies when Carolyne wasn’t.
“You have call, Ms. Carolyne.” Her softly accented voice drifted quietly to Carolyne.
Surprised, Carolyne wondered who it could be.
“Thank you.”
She stood and carefully tiptoed over to the crib and laid her grandson down.
She lovingly tucked the small receiving blanket around him and held her breath as he screwed up his mouth. But his eyes remained closed as he adjusted. As he let out a shuddering breath, his tiny fists relaxed next to his head.
Certain he wasn’t going to wake up, she left the room and treaded down the light brown carpet into the large living room.
Johnny was a lawyer and evidently did well at his job. The house was beautiful, much bigger than the one Susan had grown up in. With soft earth-toned furniture and brass tables, the living room had a very modern look.
Pity her grandchildren learning to walk in this room, she thought, looking at the many hard surfaces they’d have to crash into as they discovered their balance.
She picked up the phone. “Hello?”
20
Home to You
“Carolyne? Is that you?”
“Margaret?” Why in the world would her next-door neighbor be calling her? Color drained from her face as she realized something had happened to Dakota. “Dakota? Is he okay?” Fear clutched her heart.
“Oh, he’s fine, he’s fine—shush, sister, I’m getting to it,” the woman on the line told someone in the background.
Margaret and Mary, twin sisters who had lived next door since Carolyne and her husband had moved in thirty-five years ago, well over eighty now, still bickered as they did when their parents were alive and living in the house with them. “Getting to what? Margaret?” Carolyne asked patiently of the one on the phone. Sometimes she had to prompt the sisters because the two would get so caught up in their own conversation they’d forget who they were actually talking to.
“It’s not much, dear,” Margaret said now, and Carolyne didn’t believe her for a minute. She wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t much…
“But,” Margaret continued, “we wanted you to know we’ve missed you and so has Dakota. Has he called you much?”
Carolyne took a slow breath and held it for a moment. The two women were up to something. She could sense it. They