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Cranberry Hearts

By Lena Nelson Dooley, Lisa Harris, Elizabeth Goddard

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Chapter 1
Leiann Hambrick clutched her upper arms as if to hold herself together while she stared through the sheer curtains that veiled the picture window. Would she have to leave all this behind? She no longer saw the Hurst athletic complex, which had been built a few years earlier. In her mind’s eye she saw the thicket full of wild mustang grapevines that used to grow on that spot. Grapes she had picked so her mother could make her famous jelly. Jelly her father loved on his biscuits in the morning. She longed for that simpler time, when she knew who her father was. When she knew who she was.
Leiann swiped at the tears that streamed down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she had taken such pains to apply a few hours ago as she prepared for the reading of her mother’s will. How different her world had been this morning.
The Hambricks had moved to this house on Cimarron Trail in Hurst, Texas, when Leiann was in the fourth grade. Leiann had been excited when they moved to this ranch-style house on the quiet street. A lot of undeveloped property surrounded them. Besides the thicket across the road—and it had been a country road then, not a four-lane street as it was now—a creek ran along the back of the property. Leiann and her friends played there often, wading and hunting bullfrogs on hot summer evenings.
Leiann yearned to go back to that time when she knew what her life was all about. She wanted to hug her mother and have her daddy tell her that everything was all right because they were together. Of course, that was impossible. She didn’t think anything would ever be all right again.
Squeezing her eyes shut could not erase the pictures that danced through her mind. The lawyer’s office. The reading of the will. . .
“And to my daughter, I leave all my worldly goods.” The lawyer’s voice had droned on, listing the things that had belonged to her mother, which were now Leiann’s. Family heirlooms, bank accounts, furniture and household goods, jewelry. But not the house. Her mother hadn’t owned the house.
“Leiann?” From across the living room, the soft voice of her best friend brought Leiann out of her confused thoughts. When Leiann didn’t respond, Arlene came to stand beside her. “You really need to eat something.”
She turned, but she didn’t loosen the grip she held on her upper arms. If she did, she might fly apart. “I’m not really hungry.” Forcing the words past the desert that had taken up residence in her throat took a major effort.
Arlene put her arm around Leiann. “I know. But you need sustenance, whether you’re hungry or not.”
Leiann stared into the familiar azure eyes for a moment. Then the precarious hold on her emotions broke. Arlene pulled Leiann into her arms and patted her back while murmuring soothing words into her ear. Leiann sobbed so hard she couldn’t make out the words, but the soft sound was like a balm that began to calm her soul. . .at least a little.
After Leiann had cried for what seemed like an eternity, Arlene convinced her to go to the kitchen. Thankfully, people weren’t hovering around the house as they had after the funeral yesterday.
Arlene settled Leiann at the table, then dished up two plates of leftover food from the refrigerator. “I know it’s too hot to eat much, but we have a nice assortment of salads.”
She placed a plate in front of Leiann, then sat across the table from her with her own plate of food. After taking a bite, she waved her fork as she talked. “This salmon salad Mrs. Howard brought is really good. It has apples, celery, and walnuts in it. Try some.”
Leiann took a bite. The food awakened her taste buds and ignited the realization that she really was hungry. How long had it been since she ate last? Not breakfast. Not supper last night. It must have been after the funeral, and then only a few nibbles. No wonder she felt ravenous.
“Thanks, Arlene. I needed this.”
For a few minutes, the two friends ate in silence, enjoying the mixed green salad and fruit salad too. When Leiann laid her fork on her plate, she pushed back from the table and started to stack the dishes.
Arlene stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “When are you going to tell me what happened at the lawyer’s office?”
She went straight to the point. Of course, that was the kind of friend she was. They had gone all through public school together, were college roommates, and now both taught at Thompson Elementary. If Leiann hadn’t chosen to stay in the house with her mother when Milton died of a heart attack, the two friends probably would have moved into an apartment or house together.
“He read my mother’s will. What makes you think anything else happened?” Leiann looked away, hoping Arlene would let it go at that. She wasn’t sure she could verbalize what she felt.
Arlene huffed. “You’re much more upset today than you were yesterday.” Her eyes bored into Leiann’s with an intensity that penetrated the wall Leiann had tried to erect around her heart.
Leiann slumped like a marionette that just had its strings cut. “So I’m upset. My mother just died. What do you expect?” She hoped her clipped words would be a barrier her friend wouldn’t cross.
“Do you think it would help to talk about it?”
Leiann knew Arlene had only her best interests in mind. “I’ve never kept secrets from you. I guess I shouldn’t start now.” Her gaze roved around the room. “Where did I put my purse?”
“I think you left it in the front room.”
The two young women went to the living room. Leiann sat on the couch, where she’d dropped her bag when she returned home earlier. She opened it and dug through the papers stuck in the side pocket. Arlene settled into the rocker across from her.
“Here it is.” Leiann pulled out an envelope. She opened it and extracted a letter.
“That looks like your mother’s handwriting.” Arlene leaned forward.
“It is.” Leiann took a deep breath. She didn’t want to start crying again. “She wrote this to me some time ago.”
“And she gave it to the lawyer instead of you?” Arlene sounded as surprised as Leiann had been.
“Yes. He was instructed to give it to me after the reading of her will.”
Confusion puckered Arlene brows. “Why would she do that?”
Leiann couldn’t read the words aloud. Without comment, she handed the letter to Arlene.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?”
She nodded slowly. Arlene turned her attention to the letter.
Leiann knew the moment Arlene reached the part that was most upsetting. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. After lowering the paper, she stared at Leiann for a long moment, then picked up the missive again and continued to read. Tears slipped down her cheeks as they had down Leiann’s the first time she went through the confusing document.
“Well, that’s. . .” Arlene folded the paper precisely the way it had been in the envelope and handed it back. “. . .really a shock.”
A shock that had caused Leiann’s world to spin out of control. Milton Hambrick, the man she’d always thought was her dad, wasn’t her biological father. Apparently her natural father was no longer alive. But she had a grandfather she’d never been told about. . .and he owned the house they lived in. If she wanted to continue living there, she had to go to his home in Massachusetts and meet the man. Unbelievable.
“What are you going to do?”
Leiann didn’t have an answer. What could she do? If she didn’t comply with the instructions in the letter, she wouldn’t have a home.
“I’ll tell you what I’d do.” Arlene sounded as if she were on a crusade. “I’d go to Massachusetts and tell that Mr. Johnson what I thought of him.”
Once more clutching her arms across her chest, Leiann stood and crossed to the window. After gazing out for a moment, she turned halfway around. “The problem is, I don’t know what I think of him. I can’t process this information overload.” She whirled back to stare out the window.
What was she thinking about when she stood here earlier? Anything to take her mind off the stark message. Oh, yes, the grapes. When her mother made green grape pie the first time, she told Leiann that magic made the juice in the pie pink when the unripe fruit was green. For years, she’d believed her mother. Somehow, being lost in thoughts of the past didn’t keep the present from breaking through. Arlene joined Leiann. “You could go see the guy and deck him. I’ll help you.”
Leiann chuckled. “That guy is my grandfather.” There, she’d said it.
All these years she’d thought her grandparents were dead. Her dad’s parents had been killed in a car crash when she was a baby. Mother’s parents had died when she was in high school; she would never have been able to go to college if she hadn’t received scholarships. And she wouldn’t have met Daddy if she hadn’t gone to college.
“This is complicated, isn’t it?” Arlene sank into the chair again.
“I may never know the whole story unless I go talk to this man.”
Arlene smiled. “According to the letter, all you have to do is meet him and the house becomes yours.”
Leiann looked around the room her mother had lovingly decorated. All the furniture, knickknacks, doilies, pictures, and even the rug belonged to Leiann. But not the house. It belonged to a man who was supposedly her grandfather but had rejected her mother. And rejected Leiann as well. And now he wanted to meet her. If only Mother’s letter hadn’t been so sketchy. Why couldn’t she have told Leiann more details? Then she’d be better able to make a decision about how to proceed.
Did she really want to meet this stranger? If she did, could any good come of it?

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