Her friends smiled back, a silent understanding passing between them. They didn’t need to say anything more; they’d be there, no matter what.
Capri leaned back in her chair, the weight on her chest lifting just enough for her to breathe easier. “Fine, we’ll face it together,” she said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “But if anyone suggests group therapy, I’m out of here.”
The room erupted in laughter, the tension melting away, and Capri couldn’t help but smile. “Who knew emotional breakdowns could be such a bonding experience?”
Less than twenty minutes later, Capri picked up the remainder of her second cocktail and tossed it back, emptying the stemmed glass. She stood. “Look, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get home and check on Mom.”
“How’s she doing?” Lila asked.
“Fine. I mean, she just lost her husband, but like I mentioned earlier, it was expected. In some ways, I think Dick’s passing was a relief. It was hard for her at the end, watching him in such pain.” Capri paused and took a trembling breath. “So, anyway—I’ll catch you guys later.” She turned her focus on Reva. “Please tell Verna those were great eats. Especially the stuffed mushrooms.”
Reva smiled. “I will.”
They all walked her to the door.
As soon as it closed, Reva turned to the others. “Are any of you believing this act she’s putting on?”
Both Charlie Grace and Lila shook their heads. “Not for a minute.”
3
Arriving home, Capri eased her truck into the yard of the small cabin she’d shared with her mother and Dick for most of her life, stopping her vehicle near a stand of pine trees shadowed by moonlight.
When questioned about her decision to live with her parents, she simply shrugged and answered. “It’s free.” Everyone in Thunder Mountain knew full well that cash did not weigh in as the deciding factor. Capri owned Grand Teton Whitewater Adventures. She killed it financially, especially during the heavy tourist season.
Her reasons extended far past what she was willing to explain.
Growing up, Capri was dedicated to protecting her mother. Her mom’s well-being was paramount—especially back before Dick sobered up.
She was even more grateful to be close by this past year as Dick’s health declined. Now, her mother would need her even more.
Capri cut the engine.
She wasn’t particularly religious, but she liked to think the guy above had honored her prayers for the family she always hoped for. Now that Dick was gone, that had all changed. But she and her mom still had one another.
Unlike Reva’s gorgeous cabin perched on prime property bordering the Snake River, her mother’s place was small and located on a discreet parcel of land a few miles south of town, tucked among towering pines. The weathered wooden shingles on the cabin’s roof, aged by years of mountain weather, extended over a simple porch where wooden beams supported an overhang. Her mom’s potted flowering plants and surrounding gardens added a touch of life to the entrance.
The heart of the cabin, however, was the stone fireplace—a robust structure of large, uneven rocks, its chimney reaching proudly above the roofline.
Capri made her way to the front door, smiling at the notion her mother had left the porch light on for her.
Inside, she made her way to a well-worn plaid sofa, its cushions softened by decades of use and facing the stone fireplace, where a stack of wood lay ready to kindle a fire. Nearby, a low coffee table, scuffed from years of service, held a few well-thumbed books and a glass ashtray, despite the fact that both her mother and Dick had stopped smoking years back.
After tossing her jacket and purse on the sofa, she tip-toed down the shag-carpeted hallway to the open door of the master bedroom. Despite the bedside lamp still being on, her mother was sound asleep.
Capri pulled the comforter up and tucked it around the woman’s slumbering frame. She bent and lightly kissed the top of her mom’s head before stealthily backing out of the room. She closed the door behind her.
Her mother was no doubt exhausted, not having slept much in the past week. Capri had heard her up in the middle of the night several times.
After retrieving a soda from the refrigerator, she moved into the tiny living room and sank onto the sofa, letting out a long breath as she stared at the ceiling, trying to push away the ache that had settled deep in her chest. Shaking off the feeling, she grabbed for the television remote, setting the volume low so as not to wake her mom.
That’s when she noticed a stack of boxes, all neatly taped up, lined against the wall like soldiers ready to be shipped out. Puzzled, she frowned and sat up. Those hadn’t been there earlier. Curiosity prickled at her, pulling her off the couch and across the room.
She knelt near the stack, her fingers grazing the cardboard, feeling the smooth edges of the tape. A wave of unease washed over her. With a slow, deliberate motion, Capri peeled back the tape of the nearest box, her heart thudding in her chest. She lifted the flaps and was immediately met with a familiar scent, the one that clung to Dick’s old jackets and flannel shirts—a mixture of pine, woodsmoke, and something uniquely him.
Capri frowned. Why were Dick’s things packed away so soon?
Inside a second box she found his worn leather gloves, the ones he always wore while chopping wood, the tips of the fingers frayed. Beneath them was his favorite thermos, still dented from that time he’d slipped on the ice last winter. There was the tattered fly-fishing guidebook he swore by, pages dog-eared and stained from years of use. Capri’s breath hitched when she noticed a small, framed photograph tucked into the corner—her and Dick standing side by side in front of the cabin, smiling wide after a long day of fishing.
