Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- BETTY’S TRULY SCRUMPTIOUS BABKA CAKE
- READ ON FOR A Q&A WITH ALEX …
- Keep Reading …
- PROLOGUE
- 1
- About the Author
- Also by Alex Brown
- About the Publisher
‘Where have you been?’ Cora bellowed the very second Grace turned the key in the lock and pushed open the front door. After slipping off her ballet pumps, Grace glanced at her watch to see that she had arrived home fifteen minutes later than usual, so grasped the banister and quickly made her way up the stairs to her mother’s bedroom. A trio of sudden thuds made her stop short. Surely Mum hasn’t tried to get out of bed by herself? Her legs aren’t up to it. What if she’s fallen?
‘Are you OK, Mum?’ Grace yelled out, rushing up the rest of the stairs and into the bedroom, her heart rate quickening on fully expecting to see her mother lying prone on the floor following a nasty fall. And given Cora’s considerable weight, there was no way Grace would be able to get her back up off the floor and into bed all by herself. If Jamie wasn’t at home to lend a hand, then Cora could end up being on the floor for hours.
‘Yes! And no thanks to you though!’ Cora was lying in bed with a pained look on her face. Grace breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Why would you leave me all alone for so long? I’m near dying of thirst here.’ Grace opened her mouth to answer as she saw a glass rolling across the carpet, stopping short when it hit the wheel of the commode which was now over by the wardrobe in the corner. Grace wondered how it had got so far away across the room and was certain it hadn’t been there when she was last in her mother’s bedroom. ‘I tried to help myself. Like you told me to,’ Cora said pointedly, looking the other way.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. But when we had the chat about you doing more for yourself, I didn—’
‘So you should be,’ Cora cut in. ‘I tried to lift the heavy jug to pour myself some water into the glass but my poor weak arms just aren’t up to it.’
‘Did you actually manage to get to the edge of the bed then, and sit up and lean over to lift the jug, by yourself?’ Grace asked.
‘How else do you think it ended up over there?’ Cora indicated with her head towards the glass. ‘I tried, Grace, but it must have spun away from my hand as I went to grasp it.’
‘I see. And how did the commode get over there?’
‘How should I know?’
‘And what were those thuds?’
‘What thuds?’ Cora asked evasively.
‘The thuds I heard when I was coming up the stairs?’ Grace asked again.