Waking Up to Love by Evan Purcell Page B

that made her come to the realization. She’d thought she’d lose him forever, and she was terrified.
    Ramona watched as Scott leaned against the nearest tree, catching his breath and regaining composure. He didn’t seem aware of her presence at all.
    I need Scott McInney,
she decided.
I need him, before it’s too late.
    And even though this was a sudden realization, it was something she’d kept inside her for months. Years, even. In fact, this was probably why she hadn’t been sleeping. She was incomplete, and she finally knew why.
    Now, all she had to do was act on it—just not today. Before anyone could notice her presence, she picked up the spilled meatloaf, backed into her car, and drove away. Things would have to wait.

Chapter Ten
    Jeffrey reached for a dinner roll, but Scott swatted his hand away. “Wait till your grandma sits down,” he whispered.
    “Oh,” Jeffrey said, sounding grave and adult. “Of course.” He folded his hands in his lap and waited politely. Even though his dad wasn’t even in the same time zone, he made sure to keep courteous and polite. Ramona watched him with amusement. At times, he acted like a typical seven-year-old—ice cream on his face, mud on his jeans—but other times he acted like a miniature businessman, just like his father.
    “She’ll be back in a second,” Ramona assured him. “She’s just scooping up the last dish.”
    Jeffrey nodded. “No hurry.”
    Ramona and Scott exchanged smiling glances. He still hadn’t mentioned the near-drowning, to her or to anyone, but she assumed he’d hold off on that particular story until Debra and her heart had made a full recovery.
    Scott sat next to her, close enough for her to feel his warmth. He’d just taken a shower to wash off all of the grime and dirt from his job, so he smelled fresh and clean. His hair was still a little wet.
    Jeffrey sat across from them, wearing the Pokemon T-shirt he’d worn at least once a week for the last year. It was starting to unravel around the edges, and the ironed-on Pikachu looked faded and droopy, but it was his favorite.
    Rob’s chair was empty, of course, but Debra set a plate for him anyway. She was just like that.
    Finally, after two minutes of Jeffrey desperately trying to stop himself from fidgeting, Debra walked into the dining room with the last bowl of mashed potatoes. “I hope everyone’s hungry!” she said. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a Thanksgiving greeting card, or a kitchen catalog.
    Scott leaned over to Ramona and whispered, “This is her first time cooking since she woke up.”
    It took a few seconds for Ramona’s brain to register what a big deal that was. All her adult life, Debra’s identity had been tied up with her cooking skills. Every birthday, every holiday, she spent more time in the kitchen than with her guests. She loved to cook. She was proud of her skill in the kitchen. Now that she was cooking again, it meant that she was finally—
finally
—back to normal.
    Debra slipped a little as she placed the bowl onto the table.
    Well,
Ramona thought,
she’s
almost
back to normal. She’s still too weak.
    Jeffrey looked at the steaming mashed potatoes with wonder in his eyes. Without thinking, he reached toward the bowl with his hands. Debra slapped them away.
    “I’m sorry, Grandma,” Jeffrey said.
    “It’s okay.” Debra slid the serving spoon across the table.
    Jeffrey served himself, and then—with some effort, because his arm span wasn’t very long—he reached across the table and served Debra, Scott, and Ramona, too.
    “Thank you, Jeffrey.”
    “Thank you, Jeffrey.”
    “Thanks, big guy.”
    Jeffrey smiled, showing off his latest missing tooth. “I wish Dad was here,” he said, “so I could give him some potatoes, too!”
    Everyone dug in. The McInney family wasn’t the type to say grace before meals. They only went to church on Christmas and for funerals. Plus, Debra always said that if you wanted to thank someone for