4

It hit her then—her grandma was her last living relative. If she died, that was it, no more family. She would be alone. She didn’t even have a boyfriend, wasn’t sure if she’d ever find someone to love.

Ashamed of her selfish fears and wishing to give comfort, she jerked out of her review and knelt at her Grandmother’s feet to grasp her hand. Tears she wouldn’t have expected clouded her vision. “Are they sure? They can’t...fix it?”

Grandma shook her head sadly, her own eyes misty. “No, sweetheart. They can’t.” She sniffed. “And I’d so looked forward to seeing great-grandbabies, too.”

Andrea flinched. How many times had she dodged her grandmother’s questions about settling down and raising some babies? It wasn’t as if she weren’t willing, she thought defensively. Was it her fault if good men were in short supply?

At Andrea’s guilty expression her grandma shook her head and became all business. “Now none of that,” she said briskly, patting Andrea’s hand. “You just haven’t found the right man yet, and no wonder. But we’re going to change all that.” With barely suppressed excitement, she leaned in and confided, “I’ve spoken with my employer, and he’s agreed to hire you as his new caretaker; on a trial basis, of course.”

Andrea frowned and sat back on her heels. The idea of becoming a housekeeper for a man she knew nothing about was ludicrous, of course, but she wasn’t sure how to say so without hurting her grandmother’s feelings. After all, she was so excited, and it must be good for her to have something to concentrate on after receiving the blow of incurable disease. With that in mind, she cautiously ventured, “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a caretaker, Grandma.”

“Of course you are!” her grandmother rushed to assure her. “And it will be such a relief to depart this world knowing that you’re in the capable hands of a man who can take care of you. Wait until I tell him!”

“Whoa, wait minute!” Andrea protested, raising her hands to slow the flood. “I’d be working for him, not marrying him. Besides, I haven’t agreed to do this yet. I have things to do in Chicago.”

But her grandmother was talking again, fast and furiously, and there was no getting in a word of protest. Andrea never did figure out how, but by the end of evening her grandmother had extracted a promise from her to at least stay for the summer. Of course, Andrea wanted to keep an eye on her grandmother, but she would rather make other living arrangements and find her own job. Grandma was sure to spend all her time trying to match make.

It was late when they finished talking, so her grandmother took Andrea to one of the six guest bedrooms and wished her a goodnight.

Vowing to find a way through this mess after she’d had a good night’s sleep, Andrea fluffed her pillow and promised herself she’d find a solution in the morning.

***

The scent of roses—a fragrance she’d always hated—woke her in the morning.

Andrea opened her eyes and groaned as perfume wafted from the lacy sheets. The sight of the hunting ducks parading across the canopy of her bed threatened to make her nauseous. Throwing back the matching comforter, she swung her feet to the shaggy duck rug beneath and tried to wake up. A glance at the bedside clock—shaped like a decoy—said it was late morning.

Shocked that her grandmother had allowed her to sleep in so late, since she’d always been insistent on rising early—a holdover from her days on the farm—Andrea reached for her jeans and a ribbed shirt. In moments she was dressed and groomed, making fast work of refreshing the twin braids at each temple. The braids reminded her of Zoë, who’d got her in the habit of them. She grimaced, wishing she’d had the guts to do like her friend and just stay home. Unfortunately, her grandma needed her. As her only family, Andrea really needed to be here.

As soon as she’d fastened the beads on the ends of each braid she left the room, electing to skip the makeup, as was her custom.

She’d been too tired for a tour the night before, but it didn’t take much effort to find the immaculate kitchen. A wide array of shining copper pots hung from the rack above the long work island, giving a hint that the room was well stocked. A stainless steel refrigerator and a very modern stove formed an odd contrast to the crocheted blender covers and multi-colored valances. The smell of recent cooking lingered in the air but no trace remained of any breakfast dishes. How odd. Grandma never passed up a chance to force an enormous breakfast on her only grandchild. Where could she be?

Andrea propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the sunny kitchen until her eyes drifted once again to the fridge. Tacked to the front of it with a colorful hodge-podge of magnets was a piece of paper. Was that a note?

Andrea moved closer, leaving it tacked to the fridge as she read in her grandmother’s swirling hand, “Dear Andrea, I’m so glad you’ve agreed to take care of the place for me. I know you’ll make me proud. After all, you’re a child of your word.”

With a scowl for that dirty tactic, Andrea read on, “Now I’m off to do something I’ve always wanted—cruise to Tahiti!” Andrea gaped and read in growing fury, “If you need anything at all, just ask Fallon. He’s been very good to me and I’m sure that you’re going to adore him. Love, Grandma.”

A streak of blue words spilled from her lips. She’d been set up! For that matter, why couldn’t her grandma just buy her a ticket to Tahiti, too? She’d far rather spend her time in the tropical sun, comforting her grandma, than freezing her tail off in Alaska. If she really were dying, wouldn’t she want family with her?