Page 22 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

She’d created her own family here in Lyntacky, and they’d all loved her mom too. It was important at times like this to remember that.

Nina showered and dressed, pulling on gray trousers and teaming them with a thick black sweater. She took time on her makeup until she looked less like a ghost and more like the Nina who worked at The Gnat.

Leaving Mabel basking in the late morning sun in her bed by the window, oblivious to her owner’s turmoil like the furry freeloader she was, Nina headed to her car and drove to the Circle Left. She wanted to tell Nancy personally about her mother.

Everyone in Lyntacky would know she’d died by day’s end, and then Nina would get flowers and casseroles arriving on her doorstep, as that was their way of showing they cared for anyone who needed it.

Pulling up in front of Circle Left, her eyes settled on the for-sale sign. It hurt more seeing it today. This place had been something solid and reliable in her life, and that was changing. With the loss of her mother and soon Nancy and Hank, the ground under her feet felt like it was suddenly unsteady.

Walking inside, she found Sergio, the chef, in the dining area. The man cooked the best breakfast omelets she’d ever eaten, drizzling them with a sauce to make your mouth feel like it was doing the tango.

“Hey, Nina. Nancy and Hank are upstairs.”

“Thanks, Sergio.”

She took the stairs up and found them in the storage room off the narrow hallway that held linen and other supplies. Nancy saw her first, and the welcoming smile fell from her lips as she studied Nina’s face.

“She’s gone, Nancy,” Nina said, walking into her arms.

They cried together then. Hank’s arms wrapped around them both and stayed there until they were done. Only then did they ease apart.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs and sit. I’ll make us some coffee,” Hank said.

“Go and get the envelope first, Hank,” Nancy said.

“What envelope?” Nina asked.

“Come.” Nancy took her hand instead of explaining and led Nina back downstairs. Soon they were seated at a table in the bar. No one else was in the room at this hour, so they had privacy.

“I was with Mom at the end,” Nina said.

“Shirley would have known you were there. I’m sure of it,” Nancy said.

Nina liked that thought, even if she doubted her mother had been aware of anything.

Hank reappeared with a white envelope in his hand, which he handed to his wife.

“I need to give you this, Nina. Your mom asked me to hold on to it when she was first diagnosed. She said I wasn’t to hand it over until… well. Until now.”

“What is it?”

“She never told me what was in it.” Nancy passed it to Nina. “She just said it was for you and that it was important.”

Nina stared at it, not sure why she felt like something was about to knock her life off its axis even further than her mother’s death had. “Do you have any idea⁠—”

“None, honey. I asked her once, years ago, if everything was all right, because sometimes she looked so sad. Shirley just said there were things in her past she’d told no one about, and that they were better left there. I didn’t push. Your mom didn’t like being pushed.”

Hank reached over and gave Nina’s shoulder a squeeze. “Whatever is in that letter, we’re right here if you need us.”

“I-I can’t take all this in,” Nina whispered, turning the envelope over in her hands. Her mother had died only yesterday, and already there was something more waiting for her. Something Nancy had kept hidden for years.

“Go on and read it,” Hank said gently. “We’ll give you some space, but we’ll be close by.”

Nina opened the envelope and took out the paper with unsteady fingers as Hank and Nancy retreated to the kitchen.

If you’re reading this, my darling girl, then I have left you. I want you to know that I loved you from the minute you were born and am so proud of the beautiful and accomplished young lady you’ve become, and I’m so sorry I won’t be there to see any children you have and meet your future partner, but considering my diagnosis I know it’s unlikely.

That cut deep. Not having her mother around as she herself navigated motherhood would be hard, if that day ever came. She kept reading.