Page 27 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

“I don’t know, but believe me, there have been times I’ve wanted to look.” Sheriff Dans handed it to her.

“B-but it could be something bad!”

“Your mother was a good person, Nina. I doubt she’d leave you anything bad. I don’t know what’s in here, but if it’s bad, or something to do with your father that you don’t want, bring it back to me.”

After everything she’d learned today, Nina didn’t want to take it but knew she had to. She picked it up and held it before her like it was full of explosives.

“Go home now and process everything. Don’t make any decisions in your current state. You need time to settle down and grieve, and remember what I said. Don’t try to contact your father.”

Your father. The words sounded odd to her.

“Want me to go with you?” Dan asked. His frown told her he was worried.

“No, I’m okay, but thanks. I-I just need some time alone now.”

She left then, not exactly running, but it was a near thing. Only when she was outside did Nina exhale slowly. Her chest felt tight, and her head was all over the place.

What should she do now? If she stood still, people would want to hug her, so she went to her car and put the box on the passenger’s seat. It was as she stuck her key in the ignition that she heard the music start.

“You have to be fricking kidding me,” Nina muttered. “Now of all times?”

People started arriving around her. Spilling out of shops and eating places. Behind Nina she heard Dan and his uncle.

“Well now, this is nice,” Sheriff Dans said. She felt the weight of his hand settle on her spine as she got back out of her car. “Come on, Nina. A dance will be good for you.”

“How do you figure that?” she said with a lot more anger than was required.

He didn’t answer and just put her next to him.

“Aww, Nina, I’m so sorry about Shirley.”

“Thanks, Esther.”

The woman wore a flashing Christmas sweater and furry reindeer horns.

Red Heckler was next. “Hey, girl, how are you holding up?” He pulled her into a quick hug, and it was like being embraced by a bear. He smothered her, and it felt kind of nice for the few seconds it took.

“Do you remember that time we asked Shirley to bring a pecan pie to bingo night?” Linda from the Do Si Do Diner called from the group behind Nina’s. “She didn’t have any pecans, so she made it with peanuts. Tasted terrible!”

This made everyone laugh.

“What about when she started painting?” Mrs. C. said. “We had to pretend they didn’t look like a bird had stuck its feet in paint and run across the paper.”

Nina found a laugh at that. She remembered her mother’s painting phase. Funny how she’d forgotten so many of the things that had made her mother the woman she’d loved.

“My favorite memory of her is always going to be the cake she put in for the bake sale at your school, Nina. She used salt instead of sugar,” Robyn Duke said.

It was freezing out here, but no one complained, and the stories flowed as they moved through the grapevine twist, as they had hundreds of times before. The dance had been playing over the speakers in this town since she was young, and everyone had to dance when the music started, or end up in a cell in the building behind her.

In her grief, she’d forgotten what this town could be—what it was—and how this dance threw Lyntacks together to talk and keep an eye on one another. People circled the wagons in Lyntacky when one of their own was hurting, and right now that was her, so they were giving Nina more memories of the mother she’d just lost.

“Okay?” Dan asked her.

She nodded because right then, she had no words, but she did feel lots and lots of love for the town and its people. Her town.

When the music finished, Nina thanked everyone for their memories. Then she got into her car and drove home, feeling so many things, she couldn’t name them all.

Nina carried the box inside and put it on the table in front of the sofa, then made herself feed the cat, who was protesting loudly over the fact that her human wasn’t filling her bowl fast enough.