away from Aurora, Sally stirred her stew and pouted. Yep, nothing had changed.
“It’s best if I move in right away. Most of my things are still in the car or on the porch, so it will be easier this way.”
“Easier for whom?” her mother asked, but didn’t really require an answer.
“Mom, I’m only going down the road a few miles. We’ll still have plenty of time to do things together. I really need to work. You know that.”
“I guess.” She sniffed. “If you can find time to spend with your poor old mother.”
Guilt trip. There was always the guilt trip.
“I’ll make time—I promise. But first I have to get settled into the apartment and the job. It’s not like I’m going back to Virginia right away.”
She might never be able to go back to her old life. Perhaps there really wasn’t a life to go back to there, and she just hadn’t realized it.
The car crash seemed to have been a defining moment in her life.
There had been life before the crash. There would be life after the crash. Each of those times was vastly different and she didn’t know which way to go. Forward or backward. Or was any direction still forward?
“Well, get your stuff organized and I’ll put some of this stew into a container—and some of the bread I made. You can have some home cooking in your new place.”
Though her mother didn’t like the idea, she appeared to be accepting it. Maybe she was listening to Aurora after all.
“I’d like that. Thank you.” Having a bit of home in a new apartment would be a great way to settle in.
“Okay, but I’m going to hold you to it,” her mother said, and pointed at her with the wooden spoon, giving a mock glare. “I’m going to find out when the Amish festival is in Smicksburg and we’re going.”
“That sounds like a great time. I haven’t been there in years.”
Funny... She’d used to hate driving around to different festivals and displays, museums and other events that had interested her mother, but now she was actually looking forward to it. Late summer and early fall was the time of year for celebrations, harvest gatherings and other festivals in Pennsylvania. There was always something new and interesting to be seen.
But all of it would have to wait until she’d turned her life around.
* * *
Two hours later a sharp pain knifed its way through Aurora’s hips, but she mustered on and dragged the last of her belongings into the small apartment over the medical clinic.
Beau had arrived with the keys earlier, but had had to rush off to an out-of-hours emergency call. Now, as he returned, he tutted at her.
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to be lifting this kind of stuff.” Beau took the last box from her, carried it up the stairs and backed through the door. “You’ll undo all the adjustments I just did on you.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” She had to admit that her back was screaming with pain, but she just had to get this done, then she could rest. And ice. Ice was a magical treatment she was just beginning to discover. Thanks to Beau.
“You say that, but you’re doing it anyway, right?”
Beau gave her that sideways smile of his. Somehow it chastised and encouraged at the same time.
“You are correct about that. Nurses are terrible patients.” She pointed to the plaid couch up against one wall and Beau sat the box on it. “While I had some momentum going I wanted to push through, then it’ll be over with, and I can relax.”
Without another word Beau placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. His hands were warm, his touch gentle. Resisting him was impossible and all those unrequited feelings of long ago surfaced as her eyes met his.
What she wouldn’t have given to have been in this position ten years ago. Before they’d both been too hurt by life and love. But that was then and this was now. There was no way for them to go back to the innocence they’d once had as kids. Now she was too broken even to try. At least at the moment she felt that way.
“Promise me one thing,” he said.
“Okay. What’s that?” A deep breath filled her lungs, helped her push away the longings he’d momentarily stirred in her.
“That you’ll call me for any heavy stuff you need either to be carried or moved.”
“I’ll try. I promise.” With a nod, she pulled back from him, curiously aroused by his touch and the gentle tones of his voice. Having someone offering to do something nice for her was almost foreign.
Looking back, she could see that her last relationship had been doomed from the get-go, and now she wasn’t certain what had really attracted her to the man in the first place. Chad had been a controller, and demanding—which was not the kind of man she wanted in her life. Too much like her father.
But maybe that was what had appealed to her before she’d realized it. Drawn to the familiar rather than someone new, someone different. Seeing Beau in such contrast made her wonder about her mental state, having put up with that relationship for so long.
“I’m going to hold you to that. Your injuries are overcomeable, but you do need to be babied for a while after every manipulation.”
“I see.”
She huffed out a breath and changed the subject to one more comfortable to her.
“Speaking of babies—how’s Cathy and her baby? Have you talked to her since she got to the hospital?”
“Yes. I just spoke to her a few minutes ago and they’re doing great.”
The grin that split Beau’s face was contagious.
“That’s awesome. I still can’t believe that happened right in front of us.”
“I know—but better here than at home alone or something.” Beau opened a box and started to unpack it, then stopped. “Oh, sorry. Do you want me to help you?”
“Oh, sure. That’s just bedding. You can toss it on the bed. I can make it later.”
“No, that’s another back-bending chore. I’ll help you with it.”
Beau shook out the sheets and together they made up the queen-sized bed that took up the majority of the space in the efficiency apartment.
“Did you tell your mom you were moving out?”
“Yes.” Aurora nodded. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but still uncomfortable. I hate confrontation of any sort.”
“Yes, but it’s necessary sometimes.”
“Not according to my mother. If I just went along with all the things she’s planned for my life, everything would be just fine.” Aurora tossed up one hand for emphasis.
“Except you’d be unhappy.”
“Yeah. She kind of forgot about that part.”
There was real sympathy in his words, in his expression, and she knew he understood. Had always understood her, even when they were kids.
“She had visions of us being gal pals, or roommates or something.”
“Oh. That’s kinda weird.” Beau’s brows crinkled.
Aurora tucked the corner of a sheet in. “Since my dad died last year she’s been left without a mission in life, I think.”
“How so?”
“Well, she’s been a caretaker all her life, and without Dad needing her all the time she doesn’t have enough to keep her occupied.”