But actually date again? Sara’s nose wrinkled. The idea of romance was far more attractive than actually trying to find it. Sometimes Sara wished she could be like the heroines in her beloved books. Sharp-witted and flirty. Reckless at times. Gorgeous in that make-a-man-turn-his-head kind of way. But she wasn’t.
She was quiet and stuttered when nervous. Her hair was a riot of curls that refused to be tamed, and she never made it through a day without getting dirt or food of some kind on her blouse.
And her heart had been broken. Shattered into a thousand pieces and taped back together. There were jagged edges and small holes. It wasn’t perfect, and Sara feared she would never love with total abandon again. Having lost her husband, and knowing what she did now, had irreparably changed her.
If all of that wasn’t enough to give her pause, there was Ben to consider. Anyone she dated would be a part of her son’s life too. It wasn’t something to take lightly.
Sara sighed and slipped the book onto the correct shelf. Right now, she had more than enough on her plate. There wasn’t a white knight waiting in the wings to ride in and fix her life. No, love was messy and complicated. And not something she needed.
Being a good mom. Saving the library.
Those were the only two priorities she had.
2 Grant
Grant Edwards took a long look at his childhood home across the street. It’d been ten years since he saw it last, and time had weathered it. The one-story clapboard was in need of a fresh coat of paint. Weeds marched across the cracks in the driveway, and the flowerbeds were overrun.
Behind him, the slap of a screen door preceded his Aunt Suzie’s footsteps. His aunt had lived across the street from his parents his whole life. Widowed, without children of her own, Aunt Suzie had been his third parent.
She came up next to him on the walkway. “It’s not going to get any easier.”
“I know that.”
Grant was no stranger to difficult missions. As a Navy SEAL, he made the impossible possible. But convincing his mother to enter treatment for her depression and hoarding was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Grant guzzled the water from the plastic bottle in his hand. It’d taken him four days to get to Hidden Hollows, which was quick considering he’d been on the other side of the world. That meant three planes and a long car ride from his base in Virginia. He’d only been in town an hour, but already Grant wanted to be with his Navy SEAL comrades on a new mission.
He finished the water, still feeling as parched as the dried leaves fluttering across Aunt Suzie’s yard. The brochure for the treatment center was a weight in his back pocket. “Does Mom know I’m coming?”
“No.” Suzie sighed. “I wasn’t sure when you’d get here so I haven’t said anything.”
He nodded. Grant crumpled the water bottle and started across the street, pausing long enough to toss the plastic container in the recycling bin.
Dread churned in his stomach as he climbed the front porch. His boots thumped against the worn wood. Grant’s hand paused on the doorknob. He didn’t consider himself a coward. He’d been to war and back, and he had the scars to prove it. But navigating the relationship with his mother was like walking through a minefield blind.
The only easy day was yesterday.
The Navy SEAL motto had never been more true.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. “Mom, it’s me. Grant.”
The blinds were drawn, casting the house in shadows. Boxes accumulated on the couch in the living room. Magazines were stacked in neat piles along the far wall. The scents of stale food and dust assaulted his nose. On his left, the dining room table was covered with different kinds of china. Some of the pieces rested on the floor and in the chairs.
A shuffling came from the kitchen, and his mother appeared. April was wearing a bathrobe. The roots of her hair were gray, fading into a dark brown from her last dye job. Her eyes widened with recognition. “Grant, honey, I didn’t know you were coming. What a nice surprise.”
She held out her arms for a hug. Grant embraced her, shocked at the birdlike fragility of the bones along her back. She’d lost a lot of weight.
“How are you doing, Mom?” he asked, pulling away.
She shrugged before turning and shuffling back into the kitchen. He followed. Dirty dishes were scattered on the countertops and piled in the sink, dried food crusted on them. Grant breathed through his mouth and kept his expression neutral. “Do you mind if I do some of the dishes?”
He’d learned long ago to ask before touching anything. One wrong move, and his mom would have a meltdown.
“No, honey. Leave them.” She twisted one plate, putting it precisely over a crack in the countertop. “I’ll take care of it later.”
The table was covered in a mountain of laundry. The chairs and floor held an odd assortment of kitchen items. Several mixers gathered dust. Pots and pans threatened to topple over. A lump of fear mingled with concern lodged in Grant’s chest. Aunt Suzie hadn’t been exaggerating. The house had never looked this bad.
He wanted to haul his mother over his shoulder and run from the house, but that would only cause more harm than good. His mother’s prison wasn’t this home, it was in her own mind.
Grant hooked his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Aunt Suzie mentioned you haven’t been going out. Not going to church or the grocery store.”
Those were recent developments. Up until a few months ago, his mother’s depression and hoarding had been manageable. No one in Hidden
