Grace considered this now. Bob had been right. She was indeed on a treadmill, and not a healthy treadmill. Too often she ignored her needs and wants, even her health. It would be far better for her diabetes if she took more time planning, shopping, and preparing healthy food. Grace had looked deep into Bob’s eyes.

“I’m just an old busybody, aren’t I?”

“No, not an old busybody. It’s just that all your life you’ve wanted to help people, and it’s easy to get carried away. Only, you’re getting older, we all are, and we haven’t the mental or physical energy we had when we were younger. You need to prioritize, to say ‘no’ more often. You used to rest in the afternoon. When did you last do that?”

“I can’t remember.”

“You need to start doing that again.”

“You’re right. I needed to hear all you’ve said. And I am going to make changes. I will, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure you will,” he had said and kissed her cheek.

And here she was, berating herself and feeling guilty that she hadn’t done enough for the Banks family, for Randy, when she had done her best. And now she must get up from this chair and walk over to Bob’s cottage and tell him that Randy Banks had attempted suicide and was at the VA hospital, and that his mother had called, crying, seeking comfort, wanting Grace to help her and her son. Suddenly Grace felt depleted. All she wanted to do was find Bob, have him hold her and help her with Randy. She continued to sit for a while longer, gathering the energy to move from her chair.

Grace found Bob sitting on his front porch and wondered why, on such a muggy day, he preferred being out rather than inside, where it was air-conditioned. The weatherman had predicted rain for this evening. She hoped a good rainstorm would clear the haze that hung over the mountains and cool things down. Grace took the chair adjoining Bob’s and fanned herself with his folded newspaper, and told him about Myrtle’s phone call.

“You tried to help the boy,” he said. “You can’t force anyone to get help, but I’d say this suicide attempt was a desperate cry for help.”

“He just about bled to death.”

“But he didn’t die, did he now, honey? And he’s at the hospital, where he belongs, where he’ll get help, and it’s out of your hands.”

“I’ll visit Randy, of course, and try to encourage the family. Lucy could probably use a shoulder to cry on. I can’t let her down.”

“She’s got Hannah, doesn’t she? She works with herbs at the park.”

“Yes, but she’s always been special to me. At a time like this, she probably needs both Hannah and me.”