The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(29)

But despite everything, a sense of home had settled upon her the minute she’d arrived, and she missed being around her family. Ethan was right to give her a hard time. It had been too long. She hoped she could make him see that she hadn’t meant to stay away. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

“How’s Gran?” she asked as she made it to the front porch.

“Mama was with her some yesterday,” her father said. “She’s doing okay, all things considered.” He opened the door, sending a wave of flavorful smells from Mama’s famous stew her way, taking her back instantly to the savory aromas she knew so well from her childhood. “She’d get out of bed and walk home if they’d let her. You know Gran.”

Hannah laughed, despite the weight of the situation. “Will I get to see her tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. You can go with your mama. Maybe you can convince Gran to sign a few business documents. Your mom tried to get her to entertain the idea of closing the shop, but she’s not having any of it. You and Gran have always seen eye-to-eye, so maybe you can talk some sense into her.” Her dad closed the door behind Ethan. “But enough about that right now. Your mother’s gonna be home in just a bit, and we need to celebrate our birthday girl.”

While Chuck made small talk with Liam, Ethan grabbed Hannah’s larger suitcase.

“What room you sleepin’ in?” he asked.

“I’ll help you,” she said, grabbing her other bag. “I’m staying in Gran’s room.” She turned to Liam. “I’ll be right back.”

Chuck patted Liam on the back. “I’ll get you a drink. After that drive, I’m sure you need one…”

“So,” Hannah said as they went down the short hallway. “You got married.”

“Yup.”

“Do I know her?”

“No, she didn’t go to school with us. She grew up in Chattanooga.”

“Ah,” Hannah said, the topic uncomfortable for her. She’d always known everything about Ethan, and now he had a whole life she didn’t know anything about. “What’s her name?”

“Christie.”

Hannah nodded, feeling like she’d lost all her oxygen. She’d been so selfish, and she hadn’t even realized it.

“I’d love to meet her.”

“Maybe…” He dropped her bags next to Gran’s bed. “Let’s talk about it later, all right?”

“No, let’s talk about it now,” she pressed. “Why wouldn’t you want me to meet your wife?”

He pressed his lips together the way she remembered whenever he was worried about something. The last time she could remember seeing him do it was the day she’d left.

“Tell me,” she urged.

“She thinks you put crazy ideas in my head.”

“What?” she said, dumbfounded. “How? I haven’t even spoken to you in years. And even if I had, what crazy ideas would I put into your head?”

He sat down on the bed. “This is where I belong. I’m happy here,” he said. “But sometimes I wonder out loud to Christie, what if you were right about getting out of here and following your dreams? I wonder what’s so good out there that you didn’t even bother to come back. It must be pretty damn great.”

Hannah lowered herself down next to him. “It’s not that great,” she said. “Not at all. It’s just different.” She hung her head, feeling awful. “I should’ve come back.”

Her father stuck his head into Gran’s room. “Quit hogging her, Ethan,” he teased. “Y’all can catch up out here.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, and Chuck disappeared down the hallway. Standing up and tipping his head toward the door, Ethan told Hannah, “Let’s talk later. We’ve got birthday treats out there.”

She needed to get back to Liam anyway. Her father had probably cornered him with his coaster collection—he’d bought a coaster on every trip they’d taken since she was a little girl. Hannah got up and followed Ethan to the kitchen.

Liam’s bags were stacked in the corner, and he and her father were talking next to Gran’s antique farmhouse table, which was hidden by a red tablecloth. In the center was a stack of dessert plates from the family china pattern and Gran’s nineteenth-century white French cake stand. Under its glass dome was what Hannah would bet was a red velvet triple-layer cake, the icing a mass of perfect peaks and valleys in buttercream. Two gifts, wrapped in pink paper printed with cascading bright white bows, sat beside it. And, of course, Gran’s largest white milk-glass vase was filled with red roses and a balloon that said, “Happy Birthday.”

“How did Gran do all this?” she asked, the sight stirring the desire in Hannah to see her gran.

Growing up, every year after having cake at home, Hannah had gone to Gran’s. And whenever she visited on her birthday, she got this exact set-up. The only difference was that this time, she hadn’t gotten to choose the “surprise” in the middle of the cake. Hannah’s favorite had been the time Gran had added a peanut butter fudge swirl that marbled the entire inside. Hannah could still remember the creamy decadence of it. Gran had told her she’d teach her how to do the fudge swirl, but that had never happened.