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Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Half Title Page
  3. Books by Katie Powner
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Dedication
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. THIRTY-FIVE
  42. THIRTY-SIX
  43. THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. THIRTY-EIGHT
  45. THIRTY-NINE
  46. FORTY
  47. FORTY-ONE
  48. FORTY-TWO
  49. FORTY-THREE
  50. FORTY-FOUR
  51. FORTY-FIVE
  52. FORTY-SIX
  53. FORTY-SEVEN
  54. FORTY-EIGHT
  55. FORTY-NINE
  56. FIFTY
  57. FIFTY-ONE
  58. FIFTY-TWO
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. About the Author
  61. Back Ads
  62. Back Cover

After all, it’s like walking into a room and finding stacks of money sitting in chairs waiting for you, isn’t it? If I were him, I’d be happy about it, too.

We’ve never had much money, Rand and I. Like many people in the valley, we were land rich and cash poor. Now we have some money from selling the fields, although not enough to pay specialists as fancy as Dr. Wilson. Rand worked too hard all those years for us to throw money away on a man who doesn’t even know how to use a phone.

I realize Mitch and Rand are answering Dr. Wilson’s questions for me. What had he been saying? The green woman returns with a large folder and hands it to him, and he flips a light on some sort of screen contraption on the wall. He pulls something from the folder and props it up on the screen.

My stomach wobbles. I think that’s my brain. He sets a couple more pictures up, like a kid displaying his crayon art on the fridge. Except his face is grave.

He uses a pen to point at the lit-up pictures and begins to string together words I am not able to follow. It’s like he’s talking too fast and yet his mouth is moving in slow motion. Mitch nods while Rand furrows his brow and clears his throat.

Dr. Wilson points at this bright spot here and that dark spot there. I stare at my brain and wonder if God took a piece of it away every time I sinned, and this is how I will pay for my mistakes. Here’s a chunk of my brain, God. Here’s another memory. And another. Until there is nothing left.

Mitch asks a lot of questions, and I stop trying to keep up. He will explain everything to me on the drive home in a way I can understand. That’s what I’m hoping for. Eventually, Dr. Wilson and Mitch stand and shake hands.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mitch says.

It takes Rand a little longer before he stands, too. I wait until Dr. Wilson is gone before rising to my feet.

“It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry.” Mitch cups my elbow as he holds the door open for me. “We’ll figure all this out.”

I love my son. He means well. But I’ve already figured it out.

THIRTY-SIX

ch-fig

Mitch leaned against the kitchen counter, coffee in hand, and watched Bea flit around the kitchen like the queen of England was coming for Sunday brunch.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

She wiped her forehead with her arm. “Yep.”

Her face looked a little green, and he was pretty sure she’d been throwing up in the bathroom earlier this morning.

“I don’t need a big to-do.”

Bea added more ingredients to the Crock-Pot. “I already invited everyone.”