Chapter 4: A Gift Basket

Dina stopped at the bottom of the steps and held up a wicker basket in both hands.

"Audra. I know it's early, and I know you probably hate the sight of me."

She had a bottle of wine in it, a wedge of cheese and a loaf of bread wrapped in a dish towel.

"I couldn't sleep either. I drove all night to get here."

"Dina, it's six in the morning."

"I know." She smiled, and her eyes were wet. "I just couldn't stand the thought of you out here alone with nothing."

I should have shut the door.

Instead I stood on the porch in my coat, tired and cold, and she came up the steps, and she hugged me.

She smelled like expensive soap.

"You raised my babies," she whispered. "I'll never be able to thank you enough."

I let her hug me because I didn't know what else to do.

She let go and looked past me into the dark kitchen.

"Is the stove lit? Oh, thank God. Can I come in?"

I let her in.

She set the basket on my grandfather's table and took off her gloves one finger at a time, and told me how hard it had been, coming back.

How much the kids had changed.

How Sierra had cried when she saw her.

I listened.

I even put a kettle on.

"Curtis is a good man," Dina said. "He just gets so stubborn. He doesn't mean to be cruel."

"He gave me a ranch with a roof falling in."

"Oh, honey." She touched my arm. "It's the land. It's always been the land with you. He thought you'd be happy."

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