Dandelion Wishes Read Online Free PDF Page B

to advertising clients.
    But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of Tracy’s situation was that everyone treated her like an invalid. Her father wanted her to rest more. Her brother finished her sentences. Doctors, nurses and specialists patted her knee and told her things would get better if she just obeyed every request they made and tried to speak. Again and again and again. Until Tracy hated the sound of her own faltering voice.
    She pressed her forehead against the cool window and fingered the cell phone that had no network. Maybe that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst of it was that the doctor had recommended shock therapy as a next step in her treatment, which in laboratory experiments had increased blood flow to the brain and helped reconnect synapses so that speech was smoother.
    Attach electrodes to her brain and start zapping her?
    No flippin’ way!
    She’d stopped cooperating with her therapist. A few weeks later she’d been discharged, which annoyed the heck out of Will. He kept talking about her needing more therapy. Didn’t he realize what they wanted to do to her?
    And now Emma wanted to see her? Tracy was so upset she could scream. Only her scream would probably come out like a trebly Tarzan wail and upset her father.
    Tracy both wanted and didn’t want to see Emma.
    Truth was, she didn’t want to see anyone, not like this. Maybe she’d cloister herself away in her room, with its pink ruffled bedspread and pink flowered walls and only have conversations with herself. For the rest of her life.
    * * *
    “Y OU THINK W ILL took it upon himself to protect Tracy from you? I had hoped it was doctor’s orders. I never could get Ben to say exactly.” Granny Rose poured a cup of coffee and carried it over to the breakfast nook where Emma sat.
    It was barely six in the morning and Granny was already dressed in olive slacks, a faded blue denim shirt and scuffed work boots. Her snowy hair was caught up in an intricate chignon. She paused before setting down Emma’s coffee, taking in her bike shorts, tank top and messy ponytail. “Going for a bike ride?”
    “Up Parish Hill.” The main road through Harmony Valley wound along the river and then at the northern tip of town ribboned its way up the hill.
    Her grandmother nodded approvingly, straightening the morning paper. “But why keep you away? It’s not like you’re the devil.” Granny sighed. “Well, piffle. We’ll just see about that today, won’t we?”
    “It’s been so long. Tracy probably thinks I’ve abandoned her.” She hadn’t. She hadn’t been able to get past Will. But Harmony Valley didn’t have security guards. “I’m going over there later in the morning and hopefully Will won’t have her locked up in the attic.”
    “Now I wish I’d never let that computer nerd into my house on Sundays, although he did like show tunes. I caught him singing along once.” Granny Rose slid into a chair across from Emma, so clear and normal that last night’s long-john dance and fatigue seemed like nothing to worry about. “No matter. Tracy’s here and Harmony Valley is a small town. You’re bound to bump into her sometime and then you can have a nice long talk.” Granny Rose reached across the table and touched Emma’s hand. “Speaking of talking, let’s talk about your fears regarding your art. No one ever got through an artistic block by ignoring it.”
    The beginnings of a dull rumble filled Emma’s ears. She clutched her warm coffee mug. “I’m not—”
    “You’re not blocked? Or you’re not ignoring being blocked?” Granny Rose’s faded blue gaze was gentle. “It takes more than talent to fill a canvas or a sketchbook. You need drive and passion.”
    “And courage,” Emma added over the intensifying noise of the car accident replaying in her head. She willed herself to shut it out and her hands to stay steady on the mug. “It’s impossible to be creative without courage.”
    Granny Rose’s white eyebrows