Vera Johnston Miller, June 20, 2004: Today is Lily’s wedding day. I worry about her so much. She has finished college and has a good job, but Wyatt Anderson, her fiancé, is controlling like Mama’s first husband, Fred. He’s not as blatant about it as I imagine Fred was, but the wedding is basically what he wanted, not the small, intimate event that Lily had in mind. She assures me that she loves him, and I only hope that he will change. He’s a very handsome and charismatic young man, but he has a wandering eye when it comes to pretty women. I hate to think of him breaking her heart. It’s time for me to set the veil on her head so the photographer can take a picture. With motherhood comes worry and fears—that’s just life and it can’t be changed. My mama, Annie, always said, “Once a mother, always a mother, no matter the age or the era.” Truer words have never been spoken.

“So Granny Vera didn’t like Daddy so much,” Holly said. “Well, I don’t like him so much right now, either, Mama.”

“Give it time. He could change.” Lily hugged her daughter. “Now off to bed with you.”

“I don’t want the journal to end. I like reading it and talking about it with you,” Holly whined.

“Well, someday you can have it and read what I write in it,” Lily promised.

“Will you write about me?” Holly’s grin was downright impish.

“Most likely. Good night,” Lily said.

Holly hugged her tightly. “Night, Mama.”

When Holly was gone, Lily tucked the journal into the secretary. “Why didn’t you write more, Mama? I want to know more. What about those years after I left home and you passed away?”

It’s your life and your journal now, the voice in her head said bluntly.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sun was still a full orange ball on the horizon that evening when five people gathered round the wooden casket. Holly hadn’t even put on makeup, because she said she’d just cry it all off. She stood between her mother and Sally, with Mack and Braden on the other end of the small crowd.