Free Softly and Tenderly by Sara Evans Page B

heart. When she prodded her mother-in-law for more, she evaded. So Jade whispered to Jesus, asking Him to help her in-laws.
    Now she worked on the day’s accounting while Mama played records, filling the shop with music. A half hour ago Lillabeth had taken Jade’s truck down to the Blue Two to load up with inventory.
    The shifting sunlight glinted off the pieces of the shattered porcelain jewelry box Jade had set on the windowsill and captured her attention. Delicate pieces with no hope of repair.
    Her view was of nothing more than the alley, the back corner of Mario’s Pizza, and a green swath of the trees racing down the ridge to the valley of the Hollow. She rested her chin in her hand, closing her eyes, listening to her heart.
    Jade wanted Mama to go through the chemo and live. For Rebel and June to go back to being the don and dame of their small village. For Max to hold his own son. For her house to be full of love and laughter.
    A ripple of peace warmed her heart. God had been good to her. Deep down, she believed He loved and forgave her. But a son for Max and a daughter for her would . . . well, redeem her past and seal her future.
    “Tired?” Mama appeared at the shop door, stirring a cup of tea.
    “A little.”
    “I’m sorry about the doctor today. Perhaps I overstated my point.”
    “Maybe a little. And”—Jade patted her hands on her desk—“to prove your sincerity, go for the next round of Rituxan.”
    “You can’t kid a kidder, Jade-o.” Mama perched on the edge of the metal chair, catching herself as the chair listed starboard as it always did. Despite the warmth of the shop, Mama was bundled in a turtleneck and a sweater. “I’m going home.”
    “Alone.” Doubt tinged Jade’s expression. “You’re going to live alone?”
    “I’ve got friends. Bet you didn’t know this, but Carla Colter and I are good friends now. Plus, there’s Linc. And I’ve been thinking my good ol’ friend Sharon can drive down to get me. One teamster doing a favor for another.”
    “Dustin’s mom is your friend? She’s going to sit with you when you’re sick? Take you to the doctor, buy your groceries? Or Linc? What’d it take him . . . a week to repair your porch screens?”
    The last time Jade saw Mama and Carla Colter together, they were fighting. Her daughter had married Carla’s son. Illegally. Mama had shoved her bosoms toward Carla when she accused her of being a bad mother . “Bite me .”
    “Jade-o?”
    “Who’s going to cook? And clean? What if you have a dizzy spell and fall? Who’s going to help you?”
    “I’ll call 9-1-1.”
    “How are you going to call 9-1-1 if you’re on the floor? What if you hit your head?”
    “If I hit my head, I’ll be knocked out until Linc comes.” Mama sipped her tea, the sincerity in her eyes accented by the wide base of the cup.
    Jade crossed her arms and legs. Two could play this game. “I’m not taking you home to die.”
    “Jade, either you take me or I’ll find someone. Hey, June seems to be at loose ends these days. Maybe I’ll call her.” Mama set down her tea. “I have leukemia, Jade. I’m not recovering from this. Refusing to take me home isn’t going to prolong the inevitable. I was born in Prairie City, and dear girl, I’m going to die in Prairie City.”
    “You seem to be set on this.” Blinking the sheen from her eyes, Jade peered out the window for a long moment. “Willow e-mailed today.”
    “I am. What did my baby girl have to say? Can’t imagine how she’s faring in the hills of Guatemala.”
    Jade reached for the e-mail she’d printed out earlier. Willow didn’t exactly write it to her and Mama, but Mama didn’t need to know that. Knowing Willow, she didn’t even think about Mama still being in Whisper Hollow. She lived in her own universe, the one she created in her head. Willow-world.
    “‘Hey, Jade-o,’” Jade began reading, adding what Willow didn’t. “And Mama.”
    Yes, I live, I breathe. But cyberspace