Page 3 of Sweet Trouble
“No,” Mari said, shaking her head, eyes serious.
“Well, you were younger than Posey is now, so that makes sense,” Jillian said. “One day soon, it will start to snow and before you know it, the whole town will look just like a Christmas card. And there will be fairs and festivals and all kinds of fun things to do.”
She had told them all this before, but she sensed that her shy, thoughtful Mari needed encouragement with so many new things happening.
And just as she’d hoped, Mari smiled at her in the rearview mirror.
Jillian smiled back and then pulled out of her parking spot, looking carefully to be sure there were no pedestrians nearby.
The town was busier than she remembered, and a lot of the shops were new and kind of fancy. But it stood to reason that people who could afford it wanted to leave the city and come to beautiful places like this, where they could live a simpler, less stressful life.
The new café on the corner of Maple and Moose looked really nice. Maybe they could stop in over the weekend.
She turned on the radio and smiled when “Jingle Bells” came on and the girls began singing along right away.
She lost herself to their sweet voices and the sight of the little town melting first into suburban homes and then into the wild, winding vistas of the Vermont countryside.
Fox Hollow Road curved north out of town. Just before her grandparents’ house, there was an actual covered bridge. Jillian had always loved the way the car tires thundered over the wooden planks when she was a little girl, announcing that they were almost at Gram and Grampy’s house.
As an adult, she could appreciate thatit was also a little tricky to navigate. The thing was barely wide enough for one car.
She paused on the south side of it, rolled down her window, and tapped her horn, just like her dad had always done.
“Why did you do that?” Posey piped up from the backseat.
“I beeped to let anyone on the other side know that we’re going into the bridge,” Jillian explained. “Because there’s only room for one car at a time.”
“Okay,” Posey said, taking her mom’s explanation at face value.
“What happens if two cars go in?” Mari asked.
“One of us would have to back up,” Jillian said mildly, not wanting to worry her with talk about cars crashing. Besides, in all her years in Sugarville Grove, that had only happened one time, and it was more of a fender-bender than a full-blown crash.
Mari had no follow-up questions, and there was no sound or sign of another car coming, so Jillian proceeded carefully across the bridge.
“It’s dark,” Posey whispered.
“It’s loud,” Mari added worriedly.
“It’s over,” Jillian announced as they came back into the brilliant afternoon sunlight. “And now we’re at Gram and Grampy’s house.”
Posey cheered and Mari joined in, lifting Jillian’s heart.
But as she pulled up the drive and parked close to the house, a different kind of worry began to set in. Something here wasn’t right.
Big trees had always lined the wooded hillside along the street, providing privacy for the house. But Grampy kept the front lawn neat as a pin, and he painted the porch steps nearly every summer.
Looking around now, it seemed like the woods were encroaching on the yard, and the paint on the porch was faded and peeling in places.
They’re getting older,Jillian reminded herself.These are exactly the kinds of things they can use our help with. And there’s not a thing wrong out here that I can’t solve with a little elbow grease.
“Here we go,” she said brightly, getting out of the car and heading back to open Posey’s door.
A moment later, the three of them were standing outside the house, looking up.
“Are you ready to see your great-grandparents?” she asked.
But the girls had no chance to answer, because the front door swung open and there were Gram and Grampy, looking a little smaller and grayer than before, but with the same great big smiles.
