“Tricia! Tricia! Are you listening to me?”

Tricia shook her head, trying to concentrate. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t sleep well last night.” She rubbed her eyes and studied the array of candles and wax creations Cassie Malone had brought for her to check out. “I think these will sell well. I especially like this Cowboy Vanilla one and this Ocean Breeze scent. How many cases can you spare?”

“I can get you as much as you want,” Cassie promised, excited to have made a sell. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look awfully pale.”

Tricia nodded. “Yea, I’m fine. I might be coming down with a migraine, I used to have those years ago.” She wiped her eyes wearily. Half of another day had gone by and she still hadn’t heard a word from Lance.

Once she and Cassie were done with business, she begged off on going to the diner for a celebratory coffee. “I’ll call you soon, but I think I might close early and lie down before this headache takes hold.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the doctor?” Cassie offered with concern.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Tricia assured her. “I have an appointment in a few days.” Mainly, she just wanted to be alone. She needed to get to the bottom of this.

If Lance wouldn’t talk to her, maybe his sister would. Locking the door of her shop, Tricia flipped the Open sign over to Closed. On shaky legs, she went upstairs, curled up on a corner of the couch and called Skye.

When she answered, Tricia felt a bolt of panic shoot through her.

“Tricia, is that you?”

“Yes, it is.” She did her best to make her voice sound normal. “How’s Blue Dawn?”

“Oh, she’s wonderful, Tricia. I can’t stop looking at her. She’s such a miracle.”

“I’m so happy for you. I know Noah and Lance were thrilled to make this possible.”

At the mention of her brother’s name, Skye grew quiet.

Tricia felt very uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and just plunged in. “Skye, I was wondering if you could tell me if Lance is okay. I…haven’t heard from him since we were together Sunday night.”

Skye let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with Lance, Tricia. When I asked him how your date went, he just shrugged and said it didn’t work out.”

It didn’t work out?

It didn’t work out?

Tricia felt her heart shrivel up in her chest. What did that mean? Why hadn’t she realized it didn’t work out?

“I see.” She didn’t know what else to say. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either, Tricia. I’m so sorry.”

“Yea, me too. Take care.”

She hung up the phone and cried.

…Buzz! Buzz!

Tricia jerked awake. Glancing at the illuminated face of the digital clock on her desk, she saw it was still a few minutes before midnight. Not bothering to turn on a light, she clasped her aching head with one hand and grabbed the phone with the other. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins like a drug. “Lance? Lance, is that you?”

“No, Tricia, it’s Isaac, the baby’s coming! Meet us at the hospital!”

Jumping up from the couch, Tricia was met with a wave of dizziness. Her stomach rolled and she had to make a mad dash to the bathroom. Kneeling by the toilet, she emptied her stomach of its bitter contents. Fitting, she thought. Her whole life had turned bitter.

She stayed there for a bit, trying to pull herself together. Avery needed her. Her best friend was about to give birth and Tricia would be there. Her personal problems could wait.

As she rose to go through the motions of getting ready, Tricia did her best to keep her mind a blank. All she wanted to do was get through the night.

Without thinking about it too much, she decided to drive. No other symptoms had materialized after the wreck and she was tired of expecting them to. Climbing into the loaner van, she fastened her seatbelt, started the engine and took off to the hospital. The drive wouldn’t be a long one, Avery had decided to have her baby locally instead of traveling to Austin as others were known to do. The facilities in Kerrville were state of the art, thanks in great part to the generous donations of the McCoy clan.

Once she thought of the McCoys, her thoughts went right to Lance. Would he be there? She had no way of knowing.

She hoped he would be and she hoped he wouldn’t be.

If he was there, how would she face him? How could she face the future without seeing him? “Oh, God, why did I fall in love with him?”

To admit such a thing after only one date was probably foolishness. He was older, a confirmed bachelor, a gorgeous man who could have any woman he wanted. Well, he’d had her – and he’d moved on.

Lesson learned.

When she arrived at the hospital, she was not alone. McCoys were everywhere. Libby and Jessie came to meet her. “Isn’t this exciting?” Libby beamed. “Isaac is in with Avery now. We’re all waiting impatiently.” She pulled Tricia into the merry group and Jacob offered her coffee.

“Thanks, I need some.”

“Did you think to bring any balloons or flowers?” Noah asked. “We’d rather buy from you than the hospital florist.”

Tricia groaned. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it and there certainly wouldn’t have been a charge.” She rubbed her head. “I’ve been out of it. Migraine.” If this was the type of godmother she was going to be, she might as well hang up her hoe.

“No problem.” Skye interjected, coming to sit by her on the green vinyl couch. “Are you all right?”

“Yea, sure. Where’s Blue?” Tricia tried to keep a straight face, crying would be humiliating. Glancing around at Avery’s family, she wondered who all knew about her and Lance. Not that there was a lot to know… Their affair, or whatever it was, had been over before it started.

“Oh, she’s at home with Lilibet Saucier. She’s watching the whole McCoy brood.” Skye smiled. “All-knowing Cady arranged for her to be there right about the time Avery’s water broke.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded. Hearing Cady’s name reminded Tricia of her palm reading. If this was the storm she’d been referring to, Cady had hit the nail on the head. Some storms were devastating, sometimes they were impossible to survive.

“He’s not here, he’s not coming, if you’re worried,” Skye offered.

Tricia groaned. “He’s not coming because he knew I’d be here.” Great. She ducked her head and pulled on the hem of her shirt. “I wonder if Kerrville is big enough for the both of us?” With a wry chuckle, she shrugged her shoulders. “And the weird part is, I don’t even know what I did wrong. Everything was wonderful and when I woke up, he was gone.”

“Tricia!” Isaac called from the waiting room door. “Avery wants you.”

Skye patted Tricia’s shoulder as she rose. “Okay, be right there.” With gratitude, she escaped the presence of the others. They might not all be talking about her, but she felt as if they were. Her imagination was working overtime.

“Hurry, hurry,” Isaac beckoned to her, his face filled with both elation and worry. “It won’t be long now. I think she wants to squeeze your hand awhile.” He held his up. “She almost smashed a couple of my fingers.”

“I’m sure any injury will be worth it in the long run,” she assured him with a grin. Tricia put aside her worries and sorrows to concentrate on her friend’s blessed event.

In the delivery room, she found Avery looking anxious. “Where have you been?” she bellowed.

“I think she’s talking to you,” Isaac pushed Tricia forward. “I’m putting you in the direct line of fire.”

“I was in the waiting room, sweetie.” She took Avery’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” She shook her finger at Isaac. “I feel like I’m trying to push a watermelon through a knothole! If you even think about coming at me without a condom again I’ll have you clipped!”

Isaac covered his business with two cupped hands. “I thought you wanted a bunch of kids.”

“I changed my mind!” she yelled, but the yell ended in a whimper. “It hurts!”

Isaac raced to her. “Do you want something for the pain?”

“I didn’t want to take anything!” Avery panted. “I wanted to do this myself.”

“You don’t have to do anything by yourself, sweetheart.” Isaac kissed her damp cheek. “We’re here with you.”

“That’s right,” Tricia squeezed her hand. “Just hold tight. We’ll be with you every minute.”

“There’s no shame in taking something for the pain,” Isaac assured her. No one wants you to suffer when you don’t have to.”

Avery looked up into her husband’s face. “You think it will be okay?”

“I do.”

“Tricia, call the nurse, tell them to send up some really good drugs.”

Tricia laughed. “I’m on it.”

In a few minutes, Avery had calmed down and was following her doctor’s orders. “Push!”

Tricia and Isaac stood a few feet back, near enough so she would know they were there, but not in the way. Avery, like the trooper she was, endured contractions long enough and strong enough to make everyone in the room shudder. Soon, it all payed off. The lusty cry of a newborn exploded in the room.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. “A big, strapping, nine-pound baby boy!”

Isaac came forward, accepting the squirming, red-faced infant, cradling him in his arms.

“Oh, he’s beautiful, Avery,” Tricia exclaimed, when she drew close enough to see. “He’s got your eyes and mouth.”

“He’s got my equipment!” Isaac proclaimed with pride.

As soon as the nurses cleaned Avery up a bit, Tricia went to her friend. “You did so good. He’s perfect.”

Avery smiled and sighed, her eyes heavy. “Sebastian David. I want to name him Sebastian David. We’ll call him David, but I want to name him for Isaac’s dad.”

Isaac kissed his wife, laying their son at her breast. “I love it. David’s a strong name. Meet Sebastian David McCoy.”

“If you want to go make your big announcement and pass out your cigars, I’ll stay with them,” Tricia offered.

“Is that okay?” he asked Avery. “Can I go let them all know?”

“Yes! Go! Tell them they can come see us in just a few minutes.” Avery said, her eyes on her new baby. “I need to put on some lipstick. He’s so beautiful, I want to be beautiful too.”

“Oh, you’re more than just beautiful,” Isaac assured her. “You’re perfect.” He kissed his wife and son. “Both of you are perfect.”

For the next hour, Tricia remained near, but out of the way. She made sure Avery had everything she needed, even going down and buying several overpriced balloon bouquets and flower arrangements from the hospital gift shop. She even purchased a wreath to display on the door that said, It’s a boy! Sebastian David, 9 lbs, 21 inches.

As all the excitement caught up with Avery, she began to fade. “I think you need to rest,” Tricia told her. Family members were beginning to leave and the nurse had carried the baby back to the nursery.

“Yea, I’m sort of tired,” Avery said with a happy sigh.

“I wonder why?” Tricia teased her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Avery looked from Tricia to her Isaac who hadn’t left her side since he’d returned from informing the family of his son’s birth. “I’m so lucky to have you. My best friend and my Badass. And now everything is complete. I have a beautiful baby boy. What more do I need?”

“Just a good long nap.” Tricia kissed Avery’s cheek. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.” Glancing at her watch, she corrected herself. “Today. It’s almost six-thirty in the morning.”

After slipping out, she ventured down the hall, her eyes on the floor, playing an old game she used to play when she would spend so much time in hospitals as a child. If she was careful, she could make the trek and keep every footfall within a square tile. Stepping on a crack brought bad luck. Lord knows, she didn’t need any more of that.

“Sebastian David is a good name. I know old Mr. McCoy would be proud of that if he were here to see it.”

Lance.

Tricia almost tripped over one of those cracks. She’d know that voice anywhere. Glancing up, she saw that he was talking with Joseph near the front lobby. He wasn’t supposed to be here! Her heart began to flutter and the urge to turn tail and run in the other direction hit her like a tsunami. Only her pride forced her forward. She squared her shoulders and tried to put a little steel into her backbone. There was no use hiding, she had to run into him sometime. He stood sideways to her, so she knew he could see her out of his peripheral vision. Would he acknowledge her? Could they talk this out? Would he tell her how she had offended him? As she drew nearer, Tricia caught Cady’s eye. Lance cut his eyes toward her and Tricia stopped. “Lance?”

Abruptly, he turned his back to Tricia and just kept on talking to Joseph.

Tricia felt humiliated. Mortified. She felt about one inch tall. Hugging herself, she began to walk faster.

“Tricia! Tricia!”

Cady followed and caught up to Tricia just on the other side of the automatic doors.

“I can’t talk right now, Cady. I need to get home.”

God, she couldn’t handle any more of this right now.

“Just let me say one thing.” Cady grasped her arm, conveying peace and comfort with her touch. “Storms never last forever.”

“Thanks.” She gave the kind woman a smile, broke away from her and ran as hard as she could to the van, tears streaming down her face every step of the way.

Punching the unlock button a dozen times, Tricia threw open the door and jumped inside. The storm might one day pass, but right now the clouds were as dark as midnight and the winds of despair were ripping her apart. Starting the van, she jammed it into gear and gunned out of the parking lot. She wanted to get away, far away from the memory of Lance turning his back on her like she was a stranger, as if her very presence disgusted him.

A keening cry tore from her throat as she tried to see the road through the veil of tears.

Swamped by sorrow, Tricia found it hard to concentrate. The distance she had to drive wasn’t far, but it seemed to take forever.

A funny feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed her – she’d been here, she’d done this, all of it, in exactly the same order. Tricia knew this wasn’t true, but the eerie feeling of repeating this horror again and again struck her. She began to wonder if she was traveling in circles. Wiping the blinding dampness from her eyes, she sniffed the air. Odd. She could smell garlic and there was an odd metallic taste in her mouth. Tricia also became aware of a ringing sound and a buzzing. She looked around the van. Nothing. Was it in her head?

Seeing the city square in front of her, Tricia breathed a sigh of relief. She was almost home. Turning down the side street, she drove into the alleyway behind her shop and shut off her engine – and that was when it hit her. Her thoughts were racing, her vision was blurring. She felt trapped in a cycle of repetition, everything seemed like an echo. Memories of her childhood came barreling back. “God, no.” The sounds. The tastes. The smells. The disorientation.

She was having a seizure.

Grabbing onto the door handle, Tricia wrenched it open and stumbled from the van. She didn’t get but a couple of steps before it happened. Dizziness. Nausea. Headache. Her heart raced. Her vision dimmed. She fell to the ground and curled up into a ball, trembling from head to foot. “God, no. God, no. God, no.”

Tricia was helpless.

 

* * *

 “Miss Tricia! Miss Tricia! Are you all right?”

With great difficulty, Tricia opened her eyes to find Kristen standing over her. “Just help me up.”

Kristen held her hand while Tricia pushed to her feet. She felt like she’d been run over by a Mack truck. A dagger of disappointment snatched the breath from her lungs. Her epilepsy was back, most likely triggered by the wreck and the stress she’d been under. Oh, yes, she understood the disease. She knew the triggers. She’d lived with it for decades. This time, she’d tried in vain to rewrite reality. This was not what she wanted. But who was privileged to determine their fate? No one. “Thanks, Kristen, I’ll be all right in a few minutes.”

“Did you faint?”

Their employee’s concern touched her. “Yea, I guess, something like that.”

“I came by to check to see if you had any deliveries. Finding the store closed at this hour of the morning threw me.” All the time she was walking toward the back door, Kristen kept a protective hand on Tricia’s back.

“What time is it?” God, how long was she out?

“Nine-thirty.”

Christ. Almost three hours? That was some kind of record. “Sorry, I’m so late.”

“Don’t apologize to me. What were you doing out back? Did you fall and hit your head?”

“I’m not sure, I guess so.” Tricia knew she wasn’t making any sense, but she wasn’t ready to start telling people she’d had a fit, either.

“I knew something was wrong. You’re usually knee deep in alligators by now.”

Tricia laughed, the humor was such a relief. “If not alligators, then definitely amaryllis.”

“Or azaleas,” Kristen patted her arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?”

“No, there’s no need, I’m going soon.” Although now, she knew exactly what her diagnosis would be. Taking her keys from her pocket, she unlocked the back door. When she stepped into the darkness and felt water seep into her shoe, she knew another tragedy had struck. Great. I think the water heater sprung a leak.”

To give Kristen credit, she pitched right in and soon they were busy with mops and buckets. Twice, a customer came to the door and Kristen headed them off and took their order on the sidewalk. Tricia was never more thankful for the helpful teenager. She was so responsible for her age. Only sixteen, she worked hard to help support her family. She even had a hardship license in order to help chauffeur her younger brothers and sisters around after the death of their mother. This was one of the reasons Tricia wanted to give Kristen as many hours as she wanted and could handle without interfering with schoolwork or her other responsibilities.

The whole time they were cleaning up the water, Tricia was on pins and needles expecting another seizure to hit at any moment. Shaking her head, she wrung out the mop and chastised herself. She needed to calm down. When she was a child and a young teen, seizures only occurred sporadically.

Ting!

“Kristen!” she yelled without looking up. “Can you handle the door, I’m almost through!”

“Is this a bad time?”

Tricia jerked her head up to see Marcelle Lambert standing there, looking more like Aunt Bee Taylor from Andy Griffith than anyone but Frances Bavier had a right to. “Grandmother!” Tricia threw down the mop and ran to her. If ever there was a time when she needed a hug more, she couldn’t remember it. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Marcelle seemed a little shocked, but she embraced her. Their relationship had rarely lent itself to displays of affection. “Good. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

Seeing the mess, Tricia sighed. “Well, no. The shop is a bit of a mess, though. I’ve got to get a new water heater.” She scuffed the toe of her tennis shoes on the tile. “At least the floors are clean.”

“Well, let me look around.”

Hastily, Tricia put away the buckets and mops and introduced Kristen to her grandmother. “If you’ll mind the store, I’ll give her the grand tour.”

“Sure thing. I’ll finish making those wedding corsages, if that’s all right.”

“Yes, please.” Tricia was glad Kristen was on the ball. “Come on, Grandmother. Let’s start at the front.”

With mixed feelings, she showed her grandmother everything her money had made possible. “I have several collections of gift items, everything from crystal, china, holiday items, and candles.” These items were displayed in antique hutches and bookcases. “In between, I have tables laden with premade silk flower arrangements and items to fill balloon bouquet baskets.” She gestured to the back. “To the rear, I have my coolers where I keep cut flowers. We get a shipment from San Antonio once a week. I also have dozens of potted plants and can special order anything we need.” Every word she spoke felt like swallowing a razor blade. “I…think…I’ve…”

“Tricia? What’s wrong?”

Tricia wiped her eyes. “Kristen, I’m going to take Grandmother upstairs. Call me if you need me!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“This way, please.” She needed to get out of the public view. Anyone could walk in at any time and she wasn’t ready for this to become common knowledge. “I have something I need to tell you.” Tricia let her grandmother take the stairs first. She wasn’t very fast, so by the time they got to the top, the tears were already flowing.

“Now, what’s wrong, my dear?” Marcelle settled down in a purple Queen Ann’s chair in front of the small fireplace. 

“I don’t know what to do.” Tricia sobbed. “Everything is falling apart.”

“I don’t understand. Do you need more money?”

“No, I might have to sell the shop.”

“Why? I thought you had a partner?”

“I do. She just had a baby. I don’t know if she’ll want to buy my share or not.”

“What’s wrong, Tricia?”

She sat down on an ottoman in front of her grandmother. Marcelle wasn’t the type to cuddle. The stately woman was more stuffy than approachable, but she had some feelings for Tricia. They’d managed to forge a relationship after all these years. “My epilepsy is back. I had a seizure last night. My assistant found me on the ground behind the store this morning.”

“Oh, my dear, no.” Marcelle was obviously distressed. “Have you seen a physician?”

“No, not yet.” Tricia let out a long sigh. “I know the routine. I’ll get back on my meds, but this will put me right back where I was. They don’t eradicate the seizures, or they never did for me.” She stared at the floor. “I won’t be able to drive. It will be hard to take care of the store by myself.”

“Have you told your young man?”

Tricia shuddered. “No, I can’t.” Lance had turned his back on her before the epilepsy returned, she could just imagine what he’d think if he knew. “There’s no need now. I can’t be with anyone. This is pretty much a deal breaker. The stigma that comes with epilepsy is pretty strong.”

“Nonsense!” Her grandmother was adamant. “I don’t want to downplay your condition, but this is something that can be managed.”

“I don’t know.” She rose and wiped her eyes, soothing her hair. “Let me make us some tea. I’m going to have to give this some thought before I do anything drastic.”

Marcelle followed her to the kitchen. “What changed with…Lance? Lance Rogers, is that his name?”

Tricia placed sugar, creamer, and lemon on a tray. She was using a Belleek tea service, her favorite. She loved the shamrock pattern on the cream china base. Her hands shook and lingering tingles reminded her of the fate that had settled on her shoulders. “Yes, Lance Rogers, that’s right.” The whistle of the tea kettle sounded before Tricia spoke again. “We went out last Sunday, but I don’t think we would’ve seen each other again, even if my epilepsy hadn’t reoccurred.”

“Do you love him?”

“Grandmother!” Tricia exclaimed, surprised at the direct question. Instead of answering, she gathered the tea bags, the teapot, and some cookies to add to the tray. “Let’s sit down.” She felt too shaky to stand up for long.

“Here, let me help you.” She’d only taken a couple of steps before Marcelle took the tea service from her. “I’m still strong enough to serve tea. Sit.”

Tricia sank down in a chair gratefully. “I think I’ll be fine. This is mostly a nervous reaction. I’m just going to have to take precautions and get my mind wrapped around being an epileptic again.” Explaining to someone unfamiliar with the disease was difficult. “I can deal with the epilepsy easier than I can people’s preconceived prejudices about the disease and those who suffer with it.” Marcelle served their tea and Tricia added lemon and sugar to hers.    

“What do you mean, dear?”

“Most people are unfamiliar with this disability. There is still a certain amount of disgrace associated with the disease. In decade’s past, women were sterilized if it was known they were epileptic, people were burned at the stake, and many were placed in institutions for the criminally insane. People were even accused of being demonically possessed. Today, there is more understanding, more education available, but not nearly enough. People still view those of us who have it as being strange, mentally diminished, and contagious. I, personally, have been shunned and excluded. I just have no wish to go through any of this again.”

“I can understand your feelings.” She sipped her tea. “It seems to me that you have a choice. May I give you some advice?”

Tricia wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it or not. “Please, go ahead.”

“I’m dying.”

“What?” She spilled her tea all over the floor, then jumped up to get a rag to clean it up. “What do you mean, grandmother?” She’d suspected as much, but hearing the news put so bluntly just broke her heart.

“I have cancer.”

“God, no!” Tricia hugged her grandmother, not wanting to hear this at all.

Marcelle patted her shoulder. “I’m not dying today or tomorrow, there’s time for us to be close.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Tricia protested. She wasn’t close to her mother, Trudy Yeager would never admit it, but Tricia always believed her mother was ashamed of her. After she’d moved away, Trudy had thrived with her new husband. “I need you.”

“I have a brother I’d like for you to meet at some point and he has children. You have cousins, most of them are far nicer than I am.” She gave Tricia a wan smile. “Nevertheless, facing my mortality has given me a new perspective. Let me give you a gift.” At her granddaughter’s grimace, she clarified. “Not money. Advice. I’m spending my last days righting wrongs. My husband was a harsh man. We made many mistakes. My son took after his father and mistreated you and your mother. I allowed them to do things…” She shook her head. “I did things that were wrong. Once I even punished a man because he was faithful to his wife and wouldn’t succumb to my charms.”

“Oh, no,” Tricia murmured, a little shocked. “We’ve all made mistakes.”

Tricia watched her grandmother remember, the emotions passing across her face was painful to see. “I’m going to try and make things right. I don’t want to die with regrets.” She pushed a curl from Tricia’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to have regrets either. We share a common trait, Tricia. We are strong. Instead of hiding your condition, I think you should consider speaking out, being an advocate, a voice for those too weak to speak for themselves.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The very idea struck terror in Tricia’s heart.

“Think about it. Now, answer my other question. Do you love this man, this Lance Rogers?”

Hanging her head, Tricia was honest. “Yes, I do. So much. I love him with all my heart, but there’s no hope for us. We spent one night together and he walked away. I don’t know what happened. I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong.” Her grandmother mused. Lance Rogers. From the moment her granddaughter mentioned this man’s name, the memories had flown back as if on the wings of a dove. This recollection was what prompted the confession she made today. The man whose ranch was lost in the card game, the man she’d been in love with, the man she’d punished had been Deke Rogers.

Lance Rogers could be his son.

…After her grandmother left, Tricia tidied up things in the shop, giving Kristen twenty dollars extra for being so helpful. She almost had to drag herself upstairs, the sleep she’d experienced while unconscious with the seizure had not been very restful. She was also hungry.

Her small apartment wasn’t the sanctuary it usually was, Lance’s ghost lingered. She tried to muster up hatred in her heart for him. After all, he’d used her.

She couldn’t.

The best she could do was anger.