Free The Heart of Memory by Alison Strobel Page B

her chronic irritation with Savannah, she was scared her mother might die.
Yes, Savannah drove her nuts, with her critical view of everything Jessie did and her disinterest in building a more solid relationship with her daughter. Yes, she was sick of being in Savannah’s shadow, of hearing someone’s squeal of excitement when first meeting Jessie and discovering she was the daughter of “that Savannah Trover.” Yes, she was tired of being an involuntary spokesperson for A&A. But a girl needs her mother, and Jessie was no exception.
Knowing there was a chance, even a slim one, that Savannah might pass brought Jessie to tears. A tiny sliver of her heart still held to the dream of their relationship changing. Maybe it was time to start doing whatever she could to make that dream happen. It would have to be a two-way street, but if she didn’t get things going she might lose her chance.
But how?
Jessie parked the car in the visitor’s lot but kept it running as she analyzed her typical reactions with Savannah. She didn’t usually engage much, choosing instead to do whatever needed to be done with Savannah as quickly as possible and then retreating. And when Savannah said something that irked her, or hurt, or insulted, Jesse’s typical response was sarcasm or anger or passive-aggressiveness. She winced at the realization. Maybe their poor relationship wasn’t completely her mother’s fault after all.
“Okay, so what do I do differently?” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the lobby doors, waiting for inspiration. “A little help?” she prayed aloud, glancing to the sky and then frowning when it dawned on her that she’d never really prayed about her relationship with her mom. Figures it would take the possibility of death for me to finally start. I’m sorry I’m such a dunce, God.
She was about to give up and just go in when the word honesty came to her. “But I’ve been honest before. Haven’t I?” She sat with that thought for a moment, waiting to see if God revealed anything else. Honest in my responses to her, yes. Honest with my feelings, no.
She’d never told Savannah flat-out how their messed-up relationship bothered her, or how Savannah’s criticism hurt, or how Savannah’s lack of interest in Jessie’s life made her feel like her mother didn’t really care about her as a person. It was time to lay it all out on the table—or, at least, to stop biting back her true feelings and opting instead for snark and sarcasm. If she didn’t start it now, she might never get the chance; and if, God forbid, Savannah really did die, Jessie didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering how different things might have been if she’d just spoken her mind.
But could she do it?
“Oh boy,” she sighed. “God, help me.” The prayer seemed to be her new mantra. She turned off the car, pulled the laptop case from the front seat, and headed for the hospital.
S AVANNAH WAS WOKEN BY YET another nurse checking her vitals. She groaned but didn’t have the energy to open her eyes and administer a glare of annoyance. “Again? You have got to be kidding me.”
The nurse chuckled. “Oh honey, you’ll go right back to sleep. Not like there’s anything else for you to do.”
“You’re telling me.” Savannah sighed, then jumped when the phone rang. “Hallelujah, conversation.” She pried open her eyes and saw the nurse smirking as she handed Savannah the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom, it’s me.”
Savannah warmed at the voice. “Oh, sweetheart, hello.”
“I’m downstairs, but if you don’t want visitors it’s totally okay—”
“Of course I’d like to see you. Come on up.” Savannah handed back the receiver with a smile. That was a pleasant surprise. Hopefully it would be pleasant, anyway. They hadn’t talked much since Savannah’s failed attempt at emotional intimacy with her daughter. Maybe this would give her a chance to redeem herself. She wouldn’t be out of