Smoky Mountain Sweethearts. Cheryl Harper

had a load of shopping bags.

      “Watch my seat. I have to go to the ladies’.”

      Probably to put on more lipstick.

      Avery wrestled the lid off her cup and blew to cool down the coffee she desperately needed.

      At least she’d done the hard part. The bags were checked, except for her mother’s airport must-haves. When they landed in Knoxville, Avery would do her best to hustle her mother right to baggage claim and on out into the parking lot.

      The businessman seated opposite her pointed at all the bags stacked in the chair. “Forget a few things?” His charming smile was easy to answer.

      “I think it was more about killing time.” Avery sipped her coffee and watched her mother meander around the newsstand across the way. She had two magazines in one hand already.

      “Is Knoxville home?” the guy asked as he set his computer aside.

      “No, over an hour away.” Her home had been in Chicago for almost ten years, but it was easy enough to understand his question. And Sweetwater was where she was headed to stay.

      “I’m based out of Knoxville.” He reached for his wallet to pull out a card and hand it to her. “I’m Chuck. Nice to meet you.”

      Chuck Armstrong was a liquor distributor, apparently. Why would she need his card?

      “Nice to meet you, too,” Avery said and laid the card carefully next to her on the seat. She’d drop it in the trash somewhere to avoid hurting his feelings. Maybe he thought she had a restaurant or something.

      “Lookee what I found,” her mother crowed as she plopped down next to Avery. “Cute actors. Cute singers. Cute designers. And cute dogs. If you can’t find something to read in this stack, you ain’t even trying.” She dropped the magazines in Avery’s lap and pulled off the one on top. “This one’s mine.”

      “Cute couches. That’s what you’re going with?” Her mother devoured decorating shows, books and magazines, and occasionally decided to revamp the house Avery had grown up in. “What color is the living room now, Mama?”

      Her mother sighed. “You don’t remember how many paint chips I tested?” Their conversations for a while had been all about her mother’s projects, mainly because Avery had stared at hospital walls and nothing else for days straight. “Colonial gray. That’s what I’ve got right now.” She tapped the white sofa with splashes of bright red flowers. “This would be darling.”

      It would. Years of study meant Janet Abernathy had a good eye. “Have you ever thought about opening up an interior-design business?”

      Her mother straightened in her seat and shot her a surprised glance. Then she laughed as if Avery had said the most amusing thing she’d heard in a while. “It’s a hobby. I don’t have any training. And who in Sweetwater’s going to be hiring an interior designer? No, ma’am. Right now, my focus is on you. Once you’re home, everything will be okay.” She turned the page slowly and then folded the corner down so she’d remember to come back to it. If she’d been in a better frame of mind, stronger, Avery would have insisted they talk about this. Her mother needed more in her life.

      At this point, Avery was not in a position to argue, but having her mother’s attention focused solely on her? This could be a problem.

      “I like working at the school part-time, here and there as needed. It’s never dull,” her mother said with a careless shrug. Since her eyes never met Avery’s, it was hard to decide if she meant what she was saying. “Are you thinking of opening up a...something? Going into business for yourself? It ain’t easy. I mean, I don’t know why you can’t go back to school, but...”

      This was her mother’s subtle way of asking what Avery was going to do with the rest of her life. Since she’d been mainly focused on tying up all the loose ends left by Robert’s death, closing up and selling their two-story house, and sleeping sixteen hours a day, Avery hadn’t had much time for career planning. The first several times her mother had asked, Avery had shut her down. Sharply.

      Going back to law school? All she could imagine was the stress and terrible grief from the memories it would no doubt provoke.

      That was where she’d met Robert.

      She couldn’t go back.

      Her mother would continue to ask what Avery planned to be when she grew up. She needed a better answer.

      And after almost two years, she should have one.

      “Maybe. I don’t know yet.” As long as she was happy living with her mother, Avery could float for a long time without any income at all.

      Her mother wouldn’t be satisfied to leave her alone for more than a week.

      “Girl who put herself through college...”

      But never graduated law school.

      Her mother’s mutters trailed off, but it was easy to see that she disapproved of Avery’s lack of focus. At least she’d learned a bit of control.

      As the gate crew called the first group to board, Avery slipped the magazines in her tote and the business card fluttered to the ground. Her mother picked it up to hand it to her. “Leftover from some other trip?”

      Avery shook her head and pointed with her chin at Chuck, who was waiting in the line with the priority passengers. He was scrolling through something on his phone. “No, that guy introduced himself and gave it to me. I didn’t want to give it back or...” Avery blinked. She still wasn’t sure what had happened in that weird conversation.

      When the next boarding group was announced, Avery stood and grabbed her mother’s shopping bags. Her mother was shaking her head sadly. “What?”

      “He was hitting on you. That was an invitation to call him when you’re in town or something.” Her mother dropped her purse on one shoulder and took her armful of bags from Avery.

      The wave of people heading for the line flowed around Avery while she processed what her mother had said. “Hitting on me? No way.” She wasn’t dead but she might be half a step away. It had been months since she’d applied mascara. “What man in his right mind would be hitting on me?”

      Once upon a time, that had been a common occurrence. She never would have missed Chuck’s interest at twenty. Then she’d fallen in love, gotten married, and that all stopped.

      She was technically single again, but how could the world tell?

      After she’d lost so much weight that her wedding rings had slipped on her fingers, Avery had taken them off and put them safely away. Did she need to find them again?

      “Any man who likes smart women would be hitting on you, sweet girl. That hasn’t changed.” Her mother wrapped a hand around her arm to urge her into the boarding line. “And that won’t be the last time, either.”

      “I’ll get my rings resized, put them back on. That’ll help.” It hadn’t stopped every flirt through the years, but she’d lost the knack of understanding a man was flirting and the ability to answer properly. Chuck had deserved a better conversation than the one he’d gotten. She still wouldn’t be calling him for a date, but she could have given him his card back without a trace of guilt.

      She wasn’t in the market for Chuck or any other man.

      “Not to come back to life, it won’t,” her mother snapped before graciously handing a member of the gate crew her boarding pass.

      Avery did her best to respond to the attendant’s pleasant greeting and then nodded in a friendly manner at Chuck as she passed. He tapped his phone in a nonverbal signal that she should call him. Once all the bags were stuffed overhead and her mother had settled with her neck pillow, her blanket and her magazine, Avery tipped her head to say, “I’m perfectly fine without a man in my life for now.”

      “Thing is, you better not lose something