He’d said the same thing when Bea had protested his and Caroline’s decision to forgo cancer treatment. She’d been angry then, as well.

“She’s my grandma. And I live here now, too.”

He kept his eyes on the road, afraid to look at her. Here they were again. He couldn’t sacrifice Bea’s future for his mother’s sake. June wouldn’t want that.

The song returned to his mind. “Even if it breaks your heart . . .”

“You can’t stay here forever.”

She sniffled. “I’ll take the assistant-manager position at the Food Farm.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You have no say in it.”

“Jeremy does.” It rankled down deep, but it had to be done. “And I’m betting he would agree with me on this one.”

She turned toward the window with a huff and didn’t answer. For two miles, Hank Williams sang “A Country Boy Can Survive,” and Mitch gripped the wheel. When Bea drove her black Blazer out of Moose Creek, leaving him alone in an empty house with stinging memories lurking in every corner, it had felt like losing Caroline all over again. Now here he was, driving Bea away on purpose.

When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper. “How would they pay for it?”

Mitch’s shoulders drooped. That was the worst part of the whole thing. “They’ll have to sell their house as soon as possible.”

They drove the rest of the way to town in strained silence. He pulled up in front of the house with a sigh and put the truck in park. Jeremy’s car was gone.

The frustration that had been building since they left this morning reached a boiling point. He’d had about enough of his son-in-law’s disappearing act. “Where’s he off to this time?”

Bea glared. “His name is Jeremy.”

“Well, has Jeremy made any progress on those ideas of his?”

“Really, Dad? You want to do this again? Now?”

“What? You can tell me what to do, but I can’t even ask if there’s hope of employment in your husband’s future?”

“He’s going to figure it out.”

“So you trust him to figure that out, but you don’t trust me to know what’s best for my own mother?”

Bea flinched, and Mitch mentally kicked himself. He was pretty sure it was his helplessness talking. Caroline would be shaking her head at him right about now.

He checked the time. He had five minutes to be at the church. “Look, I’ve got to get to a meeting.”

Bea turned red, watery eyes at him. “With who?”

Refusing to answer would be worse than telling the truth, but he didn’t have to tell the whole truth. “Frank.”

She hopped out of the truck and slammed the door behind her.

He rolled the passenger window down. “Don’t hold dinner for me.”

“Fine.”