TWENTY-NINE
Goodbyes were never easy. Maybe that was why Poppy spent so much time with her Grammie that Monday lunchtime. The woman was a comfort, even when she was walking away. Saying goodbye to her wasn’t easy, but at least it was only temporary.
“Promise I’ll see you next week,” Poppy said, still holding Marigold.
They were in Grammie’s bedroom and must have said goodbye fifteen times. Still, they were there, hugging and reassuring each other.
“I promise,” Grammie said with amused impatience. “Do you think I’d miss this for anything? I love a bit of drama, especially when it’s in the name of love.”
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad until next week,” Poppy said. “They’ll never remember to keep it a secret.”
“Your man will have plenty to keep him busy with his work on the guest house during
