Waiting for Daybreak Read Free Page B

sound of a crow’s caw came from nearby as it searched for something to eat in the bleak landscape of late winter.
    Paige reached over and held her mother’s hand. “I’m just glad I’m here now.”
    Her mother looked into the tree above them. “Do you remember when we used to have a swing on that limb?”
    “Yes, Daddy spent hours getting it set up just right.”
    “You and I would spend hours out here. I can still see your hair flying behind you—no wonder it was always so stringy when you were a kid. You would sing that song about the daring young man on the flying trapeze at the top of your lungs, swinging so high you’d sometimes get caught up in the branches. I’d sit right here on this bench, and knit, and read, and sing right along with you.”
    The limb above had two smooth places, its bark stripped away by the ropes once tied there. If friction and pressure could wear down a giant tree, what chance did Paige and her family stand? “That was a long time ago.”
    “Yes, it was. But it doesn’t seem like it’s been any time at all, it just moves too fast.” Her mother ran her hand down the length of Paige’s hair. “Who would have thought that stringy-haired kid would grow into such a beautiful young woman?” She covered Paige’s hand with her own and squeezed. “Oh, honey . . . we all knew this would happen.”
    “Did we?” Paige whispered.
    “Of course we did.” Her mother’s tone sounded as crisp and clear as if she were announcing a planned trip to the market. “That’s part of the fun of being ‘treatable not curable.’ ”
    “I fully expect your doctor to call first thing Monday morning, having found the perfect clinical trial that will put you in remission and keep you in remission.”
    Her mother looked at her father. “I bet you didn’t tell her that other part, right?”
    “What other part?” Paige looked at her father.
    He shrugged in response. “Doesn’t matter.”
    “What other part, Mom?”
    “A lot of clinical trials aren’t covered by insurance, since they are considered experimental. Your father and I don’t have extra money to be throwing around, looking for some miracle cure that doesn’t even exist.”
    “I can help.”
    Her father shook his head. Her mother wouldn’t hear of it. But Paige insisted and insisted that she’d do anything for them, and by the time dinner was ready they’d both agreed.
    Now she’d just have to figure out a way to find the money they needed.

chapter four
    Clarissa stood behind the counter of the pharmacy in this place that she hated and wondered how she got into this. She knew the answer full well, and it all began on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life. Graduation day.
    She still remembered walking across the platform, shaking the dean’s hand. It’s funny, she could still see the sheen of sweat on the former senator’s bald head as he droned on and on with all the usual “go forth and conquer” rah-rah. She could still smell the tang of whiskey on her father’s breath as he announced his engagement to Becky.
    Granddad’s voice was the only sound she still heard clearly. “Well done. Mighty proud of you, young lady.” This was as high as the praise came from Granddad; Clarissa accepted it for the gift it was. He shook her hand and smiled. “I’ve got some good news.”
    “Really? What?” She had known—or at least thought she knew—what was coming here. She knew her grandfather had been spending lots of time with Milton Parrish, and if anyone could talk someone into selling a franchise, it was her grandfather.
    “We’re going to put a pharmacy in the theater we bought in Shoal Creek.”
    “A theater? Shoal Creek?” Several heads turned in their direction, and Clarissa knew her voice had risen above the crowd.
    “It’s a small town about an hour south of Nashville. Milton Parrish and I have been talking. We agree that Shoal Creek will be a great place for you to get started, you