Echoes of Three Souls

Chapter 19: Guided by Her Hands

Maeve POV

Sunday came all too quickly, and the thought of leaving my grandparents' house filled me with a sense of longing that felt like a knot in my chest. Their cozy home, the place where I'd spent so many days of my childhood, seemed to hold every comforting memory I had. I glanced around my old room, now a blend of past and present. Gran had kept everything just as I left it—there was the familiar scent of lavender from the sachets she always hung in my closet, and a fresh bouquet of wildflowers sat on the windowsill, their delicate petals softening the morning light. I brushed my fingers over the edges of my dresser, the smooth wood worn with age and love, and could already feel my eyes prickling with tears. How could I ever truly leave?

As I packed my bag, shoving my clothes in with less care than I'd meant to, I looked around one last time, committing every detail to memory. Maybe I could just quit my job and move back here. Would that be so bad? The thought lingered, but I shook it off, knowing it was only the ache of leaving that made me feel that way. With one last look at the familiar wallpaper, I closed the door softly behind me and made my way downstairs.

They were both waiting for me in the kitchen, as they always did, like a small ritual that made goodbyes a little easier. Grandad's face brightened when he saw me, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He reached out, pulling me into one of his bear hugs, the kind that made me feel as safe as I had when I was a little girl.

"It was so nice having you here, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to echo in my heart. I tried to hold it together, but my throat tightened, and before I could stop it, a quiet sob escaped. I clung to him, his familiar scent of pine and worn leather filling my senses as he patted my back soothingly.

"Oh, Maeve," he whispered, chuckling softly as he continued to rub my back. "There now, no need for all that. We're just a phone call away, you know."

I pulled back, sniffling as Gran wrapped her arms around me, her embrace just as warm and loving. She held me close, rubbing gentle circles on my back the way she used to when I was little.

"We're so very proud of you, dear," she said, her voice full of quiet pride. "You've come so far—taking that job, moving into your own place, making friends. You're building a beautiful life, Maeve." Her words only made the tears flow faster, and she pulled back, cupping my cheeks as she wiped them away with her thumbs. "Why all the tears, Evie?"

"I just... I miss you both so much. I miss being home, cooking with you, Gran, and gardening with Grandad." My voice was barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. My grandad stepped closer, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"We miss you too, darling girl," he said, his eyes misting over. "But we're always here for you. Anytime you need us, we're just a visit away." His voice was steady reassuring, and I nodded, feeling a glimmer of comfort in his words. "It's important that you keep moving forward, finding your way in the world. And we're so proud of you for doing just that."

He picked up my bag, and Gran slipped her hand into mine as we made our way to the door. Once outside, they each gave me another hug, holding me close as if they, too, weren't quite ready to let go. Gran kissed my forehead, her lips soft and warm, while Grandad squeezed my hand one last time, a glint of his usual mischief in his eyes.

"Drive safe, now, and don't be a stranger," he said, giving me a wink.

I climbed into my car, and as I pulled away, I glanced in the rearview mirror to see them waving from the driveway. The sight of them, standing side by side, filled me with a sense of gratitude that ran deeper than words.

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After a weekend with my grandparents, I felt refreshed, like a plant finally getting a drink after a long drought. Grandad and I had spent hours in the garden, hands buried in the soil, and the earth beneath my nails felt grounding. Every story he shared made me feel closer to him, to our roots. Granny's cooking, rich and warm, filled me with a sense of home that I hadn't realized I'd missed so deeply.