Page 1 of Dandelion Sighs

Chapter One

Sheridan

Sheridan: I’m having one last coffee with Mom.

Everly: …

Everly: …

Everly: Okay. So. What does that mean?

Everyone else in the small, downtown coffee shop in Coal Haven, North Dakota, was minding their own business. They’d be mortified if they knew what I was texting my best friend about.

I smirked at the small yogurt container in front of me. The cringe wasn’t far behind. My only consolation was that Mom would’ve loved this last coffee as much as she loved the yogurt. I took a picture and sent it to my best friend.

Everly: You’re having yogurt with your coffee?

I didn’t tell anyone about my plans today. They were too personal, and they were also…odd. Ripe for judgment, and that was something I’d had enough of from my family.

Sheridan: I asked to have a part of her ashes set aside for me to release later.

Everly: Oh

Oh? My skin crawled as the silence stretched on. Was that all she had to say?

Tears seared the backs of my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I knew I shouldn’t have told anyone. Everly would say she understood, but she’d be concerned. She might’ve even told my two brothers, and I couldn’t have that.

My phone rang.

“Hi, Everly,” I said like I was caught doing something a little naughty.

“Are you doing okay?” Her worried tone was like an exfoliation before a massage. Irritating.

“I’m fine. I swear. Just taking the morning with her before I go to the resort.” I curled my fingers around the cool container. My mom’s end was my new beginning.

“By taking her remains in a yogurt container to join you for coffee?”

And there was the judgment. Fair, but of all people, why couldn’t she be the one to understand? We just weren’t close anymore. Not since college. When I dropped out. “Her favorite yogurt.”

“And because no one will know.”

“That helps.”

She sighed. “Sheridan, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m not.” I was worried about me too. But not for my sanity, and not because of the decision I made. Carrying out my choices and starting over again, sort of, had me a little concerned. Hence, coffee with Mom.

“You sure you’re doing okay?”

I could brush her off, tell her I was fine again, but I had to vent some of the stress—to someone who wasn’t in a container. “I’ve been at the resort all week.”

“Uh-oh. That bad?”

My tone made it sound that way, but I couldn’t decide. “It needs work.” A lot. “But there’s so much room to expand. If only we could access the boat docks, but a small lake cabin and a narrow strip of land are blocking us.”

There was so much potential in that little piece of land. I would use the beach access, but also clean it all up and renovate the cabin. Renters would flock to a place like that. It was a shame it sat empty.

“Surely you can work with the current owners,” she said.