“Can I help you?” a short lady with gray hair asked.

  “You must be Leona. I’m Monica Allen, and Gloria was just telling me that you’re retiring soon,” Monica answered.

  “Come on into my office.” Leona motioned her inside the room.

  It wasn’t as big as the room across the hall, but it had a nice view of a flower garden that had been created in the center’s U-shape.

  “Have a seat,” Leona said. “I have to admit something. I’ve gotten very attached to my patients, including Dotty and Winnie, even though they haven’t been here long. I asked Dr. Magee if he could recommend someone to take my place; someone that would be gentle with the family here. That’s the way I look at these folks. They deserve respect and dignity, not someone who might snap at them and not listen to what they have to say. He told me about you, and Dotty talks about you constantly, so I’ve got some idea of your character.”

  “Nana is a whole lot biased,” Monica admitted with a smile.

  “Maybe so, but we’ve got a dozen or so residents here that used to live in Luella. I don’t think they are all biased.” Leona said with a smile. “Think about it, and if you have any questions, just call me.” She passed a business card over to Monica.

  “Thank you,” Monica said and took the card.

  She was halfway down the hall when another door opened, and Tyler stepped out with a tablet in his hands. With his dark hair and light blue eyes, he was even more handsome than he’d been in high school. She had managed through the years to avoid him, but it looked as if their paths would cross pretty often, whether she applied for the job at Pecan Valley or not.

  He flashed a brilliant smile her way. “Good morning. I understand that Gloria and Leona have talked to you about applying for a job here.”

  “How . . . what . . . I just,” she stammered.

  “This place is like a tiny village,” Tyler said, chuckling. “Everyone knows everything. Besides, this is exciting news for the residents. A new young RN on day shift is a big thing. So, are you considering applying for the job?”

  “I haven’t even had time to wrap my head around the idea,” she admitted.

  “It’s a fantastic place to work, if my opinion means anything,” he said, and waved over his shoulder as he hurried off to the next room.

  Monica heard music coming from behind one door and laughter from the one across the hall. She didn’t hear a single moan from elderly folks who were bedfast and in pain. “That’s a plus,” she muttered.

  A little way down the hall, Dotty stepped out of her room. “What are you just standing there for? Did you bring my cupcakes, and what did you tell Gloria?”

  Monica could hardly believe her eyes. Her grandmother was wearing a royal blue party dress, a crown made of aluminum foil, and mismatched socks. She hurried the rest of the way down the hall and into Nana’s room. “Halloween is over,” she said as she unloaded cupcakes and her grandmother’s favorite cookies into the cabinet in the tiny kitchen.

  “I know that, silly girl.” Nana opened the package of chocolate cookies, picked up one, and popped the whole thing into her mouth. “I’m practicing my walk down the red carpet for when I’m crowned Mother of the Year in a couple of weeks.”

  Monica tilted her head to one side. “Is that the crown?”

  “Of course not. The real one is beautiful and has shiny rhinestones. I just needed something on my head to practice with.” Dotty smiled and reached for another cookie.

  Monica hoped that if Nana did win the tiara, she didn’t have chocolate between her teeth when she smiled for the bulletin board picture. “Who won the title last year?”

  “Gladys Garber,” Dotty answered through gritted teeth. “She flirted with your grandpa and tried to break us up when we were in high school. I intend to end her winning streak.”

  “Oh?” Monica raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

  “We’d been together since we were thirteen, and it was our senior year. We were getting married that fall after we graduated. Then Gladys got between us, and we almost didn’t make it. Sorry old witch just had her eye on Eddie’s money, not on him,” Dotty said as she paced back and forth across the living room floor. “Walk slow and remember to smile at all the people who’ll be at the celebration,” she coached herself and did a perfect royal wave at all the imaginary people in her apartment.

  “Grandpa had money?” Monica was almost as amazed by that fact as she was by how much Nana’s story paralleled hers. Evidently, every generation had its share of mean women.

  “He didn’t, but his folks were a notch above comfortable. His mama had passed away when he was in elementary school, and then his dad died about ten years after we married, leaving the ranch to us. By the time you were born, your grandpa had come down with cancer, so we sold the place and built the little house I gave you,” she said. “But Gladys was mad at me because I got homecoming queen that year, and she wanted to get back at me. Sound familiar?”

  “Little bit,” Monica answered.

  “Difference is, I fought for my man, and you walked away from yours.” Dotty made a turn at the door and started back to the other side of the room. “If you’d blacked Raylene’s eye or yanked part of that blond hair out by the roots, you would have felt so much better.”

  “Did you do that?” Monica asked.

  Dotty nodded and then had to straighten her crown. “I got off the school bus with her that afternoon and whupped her all the way to her house. We both landed in a mud puddle before it was over. Mama was so mad at me for ruining my dress that she threatened to ground me until she heard what happened. You might have got a little mud in your hair, but I think you could have taken her.”

  “Nana, I don’t want to have this conversation today,” Monica said.

  “My theory is that you might as well settle whatever comes up on the day it happens, not ten years down the road.” Dotty went to the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk, picked up the package of cookies, and set them on the coffee table. Then she sat down in her recliner. “But since you don’t want to talk about Raylene, let’s talk about the job that you’re going to apply for.”

  “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to do that or not.” Monica wondered, if she had lit into Raylene in the garage that night instead of running away, would things have been totally different?

  “Why not?” Dotty asked. “Please hand me my milk. I’m afraid to try to sit down with it in my hands for fear I’ll slosh it out when I kick my footrest up. I don’t want to ruin my pretty dress.”

  Monica picked up the glass and put it in Dotty’s hand, and then took a seat on the sofa.

  “Thank you,” Dotty said, and took a sip. “And exactly why wouldn’t you apply for the job? It’s a day job, and the patients are all mobile to some degree.” She tucked her chin and looked out over the top of her bifocals. “Is it because Tyler works here?”

  “No, of course not!” Monica crossed her fingers and tucked them under her leg. “I’m an adult, and I’ve moved past that time in my life.”

  “Bull crap!” Dotty said. “If you had gotten over Tyler Magee, you’d be married now, and my pretty dress”—she sighed and sniffled a little—“wouldn’t still be hanging in the closet going to waste.”

  “Nana, if and when I get married, I’m going to the courthouse. There won’t be a big wedding, so you just wear that pretty dress any day you want. Don’t save it for a wedding.” Monica said the words, but guilt settled over her shoulders like a heavy blanket. Her grandmother wanted a great-grandchild so badly, and she was already well into her eighties.

  “I’m calling bull crap on that, too.” Dotty laughed out loud. “Your mama has been planning your wedding for years, and I know my son well enough to know that there’s no way Kent will let you disappoint Ginger.”

  “Are you serious?” Monica asked. “Mama has already started planning my wedding? Why would she do that?”

  “Yep,” Dotty said. “She even showed me the book she has. Pictures of dresses, venues, and even flowers and the different cakes. Honey, you’re the only chicken in the nest, and she wants your special day to be a memory that you’ll always hold dear to your heart.”

  “But aren’t all those things supposed to be my decisions?” Even more guilt jumped onto Monica’s shoulders.

  “I gave birth to your father when I was twenty-seven. He and your mother were both twenty-five when you were born. You’re twenty-eight, girl. We just want to have things ready, like my pretty dress here,” she said, smoothing the bodice with her free hand, “when you do make up your mind.”

  “I won’t be rushed,” Monica declared, “and I intend to live with a guy for at least a year before I consent to marry him, anyway. That way, I can be sure we are compatible, and that I can trust him.”

  Dotty laid a hand over her heart. “Thank God we live in a world where the townsfolks won’t stone you for that. Just pick one out and live with him, but don’t keep us waiting forever. And honey, if you’ll listen to your heart, you’ll know who to trust and who to kick out to the curb after the first couple of dates.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” Monica said. “Now, let’s talk about those mini-cupcakes. Why do you need a dozen every day?”

  “To give to the staff and visitors, so they’ll think I’m as nice as Winnie and Gladys,” Dotty answered, “and don’t you forget to vote on the way out, either.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Monica muttered.

  * * *

  Dotty and Winnie always sat at the same table in the dining room, whether they were competing for the crown or gossiping about one of the other residents. Their table sat against the wall, leaving only room for three people, and most often, the third chair wasn’t even used.

  But that day, Tyler made it to the dining room about halfway through the meal and waved at them to save him the extra chair. Dotty hung her unused napkin over it and just dared anyone to even look cross-eyed at the seat.

  Several residents waved at him and motioned for him to join them when he headed back, but he just nodded toward his grandmother’s table.

  “What’s going on today?” he asked as he set his tray down.

  Monica came to see me,” Dotty said.

  Winnie turned to focus on Tyler. “Have you talked to her?”

  “Little bit last night, and just in passing this morning,” Tyler answered. “She agreed to let me help her paint the walls of her house before she moves in.”

  “That’s a start,” Winnie said. “How did you feel when you saw her again?”

  Dotty didn’t give him time to answer. “How long has it been since you kids have talked?”

  “We hadn’t had a conversation since that night,” he admitted. “Five years ago, we said hello to each other, but that was just because we ran into each other at Walmart,” Tyler answered. “And if you’re asking whether I still have feelings for her, the answer is yes. I’ve dated other women, but I can’t forget Monica. Maybe it’s something that guys don’t talk about or know how to explain, but there’s still that old chemistry between us. I can feel it strongly, whether she does or not.”

  “She was your first love,” Winnie said. “People never forget their first love.”

  “I believe it, and I’m hoping that someday she’ll forgive me so that we can make a new start.” Tyler took a bite of his meat loaf.

  “Paging Dr. Magee,” a voice announced over the PA system. “Room forty-five, please.”

  “That’s my call. What I got of the meat loaf was good,” he said as he pushed the chair back and hurried down the hall.

  “We need to join forces,” Winnie whispered.

  Dotty’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “I agree, and on more than just our grandkids. I hate watching our show by myself, so let’s agree to share the Mother’s Day crown. If I win, I’ll wear it for the first half of the party. If you win, you can wear it for the first half. The loser takes the last half.”

  “Sounds fair, but who gets to keep it in their room?” Winnie asked.

  “We’ll share custody.” Dotty finished off her meat loaf and took a bite of chocolate pie.

  Winnie waggled her forefinger close to Dotty’s face. “You didn’t eat all your vegetables. You can’t have pie until you do.”

  Dotty slapped her finger away. “I’m past eighty years old. I’m going to eat what I want, and die when I’m supposed to, and I do not waste desserts.”

  Winnie pushed back what was left of her meat loaf and green beans and dived into her slab of pumpkin cake with brown sugar icing. “I guess it would be a sin not to eat our dessert.”

  “That’s right,” Dotty agreed. “And we do not want to grieve the holy spirit.”

  “What’s that got to do with dessert?” Winnie asked.

  “Sinnin’ makes Jesus cry,” Dotty answered her. “But this ain’t Sunday, so we don’t need to talk religion.”

  “But we do need to think about how we can join forces for our grandkids,” Winnie said between bites. “How are we going to go about that?”

  “We’re going to put our heads together and come up with a plan,” Dotty whispered. “What if Monica and Tyler don’t like each other? Should we try to fix him up with someone else?”

  “Oh, hell no!” Winnie shook her head. “We aren’t going to fail at putting our grandkids together, so we aren’t even going to think about another person for either of them.”

  Dotty finished the last bite of her pie. “Then we’ll just have to work hard at our mission. We’ve planned that those two would be together since they were toddlers, so that we can share great-grandkids. Tyler has said that he can’t forget Monica, and I know she feels the same way about him.”

  “Did she say so?” Winnie’s eyes grew wide.

  “Nope, but I can read my granddaughter like a book. If she didn’t still have feelings for him, she would have found someone else years ago. Now, let’s go watch our show,” Dotty said. “We’re goin’ to make all the staff members love us.”

  “Gladys ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell of beating us.” Winnie grinned.

  “That’s the gospel truth.” Dotty nodded and led the way to her apartment.

  * * *

  Monica went by the hardware store and picked up a fistful of paint samples and then headed home. Sheba was waiting on the porch for her, so she stopped to pet the cat for a few minutes. “How did you get out of the house? Winnie doesn’t let you go roaming around.”

  Sheba meowed and went to the door.

  Monica fished the key out of her purse, unlocked the door, and threw it open. Sheba beat her inside and curled up on the rocking chair. “How are you with paint colors?” she asked as she began to tape about a dozen swatches to the walls.

  Sheba sighed once and closed her eyes.

  “I guess that means you don’t care if I use off-white, or pale yellow, or any of these other colors,” Monica said. “I bet you don’t care if I apply for that job, either.” She sat down in the middle of the hardwood floor and stared at all the colors. Finally, she got up and went back to her grandmother’s old bedroom with another handful of paint colors. She taped them to the wall and sat down on the floor in that room. “Should I do the whole house the same, or . . .”

  A hard knock on the door startled her, and she popped up on her feet, adrenaline rushing through her veins. “For God’s sake, it’s just a salesman or one of Nana’s old friends coming through town,” she scolded herself on the way down the hall and across the living room floor. She opened the door to find Tyler standing there with a worried look on his face.

  Her heart skipped a beat and then raced ahead, giving her another shot of adrenaline. Something was wrong with Nana. That was the only reason Tyler’s blue eyes would be misting over.

  “Granny is going to kill me,” he said. “I’ve lost Sheba. Would you please help me hunt for her?”

  “No, I won’t”—she swung the door open and pointed to the rocking chair—“because she already found me. Come on in and claim the runaway.”

  Tyler shut his eyes for just a moment, then opened them again. “I’ll have to be more careful. She must’ve slipped out when I went to work this morning.”

  “You do know that she’s pregnant, right?” Monica crossed the room and picked up the cat. “I’d say that she’s going to pop any day, and my bet is that there’s at least three kittens in her belly.”

  “I thought she was just fat. I’m not a vet or an obstetrician.” Tyler groaned. “I figured Granny had her fixed when she found her out by the road. What am I going to do with kittens?”

  “Raise ’em up to about six weeks and then give them away. Since Winnie never let her outside, I wonder how she got pregnant.” Monica handed the cat off to Tyler.

  “Probably by sneaking in and out when Granny came over here to watch her soaps with Dotty,” Tyler answered.

  Sparks danced around the room like fireflies on a summer night when Monica’s hands brushed against Tyler’s arms. A memory of lying next to him the first night they had made love in the back of his truck flashed through her head. Fireflies had been flitting around that evening, and the stars had been bright in the dark sky. Folks said that a person never forgets their first love, and she sure believed them. Not one of the guys she’d dated had ever made her feel the way Tyler did.

  “I’ll take one of the kittens,” she said. “I’ve always wanted a cat, but Mama was allergic. And I’ve lived in pet-free apartments since we graduated. I should be settled in by the time the kittens are ready to give away.”

  “Thank you,” Tyler said. “One down and however many to go. I see you’ve got paint colors on the walls. Have you made a decision yet?”

  “Nope.” She’d forgotten how much she missed his friendship. Sure, she missed all the being-in-love vibes, but she missed being able to talk to him about anything and everything maybe even more. “What about your place? Have you decided?”

  “Yep. I’m going with pale yellow walls. The place is small, and that would make it look really light, but first I’ve got to strip away the paneling. Why Granny put up that dark stuff is beyond me,” he answered.