Rachel nodded.
They stood quietly.
Then Rachel asked:
“Do you really think Megan would want this?”
“The fund?”
“Yes.”
Cole reached for the notebook copy.
Then stopped.
“You want to see the original?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Yes.”
He opened his saddlebag.
Inside was a worn green notebook.
Stickers on the cover.
Oil stains.
One corner bent.
Cole handled it carefully.
He handed it to Rachel.
She opened.
Megan’s handwriting changed from page to page.
Lists.
Drawings.
Medication schedules.
Jokes.
One page:
Things Dad says when he is pretending not to panic.
- “We’ll figure it out.”
- “Let me make a call.”
- “Have you eaten?”
- “That doctor looks twelve.”
Rachel laughed.
Cole smiled.
“She wasn't wrong.”
Rachel continued.
Then she found several pages titled:
BAD IDEAS THAT MIGHT ACTUALLY BE GOOD
One was about the fund.
Megan had written:
Hospitals treat the patient, but illness eats the whole family. Rent still comes. Cars still break. Jobs still fire people. Somebody should help with the boring disasters.
Rachel’s throat tightened.
Below:
Emergency grants. No judgment. No making people tell their tragedy at a banquet. If they need groceries, buy groceries. If they need rent, pay rent. If they need a hotel because the hospital is far away, pay the stupid hotel.
Rachel smiled through tears.
“She sounds…”
“Bossy?”
“I was going to say smart.”
“Both.”
Another paragraph:
Dad will turn this into motorcycles somehow. Do not let him.
Rachel looked toward the bikes.
Cole looked offended.
“I barely involved motorcycles.”
“Twelve arrived today.”
“Eleven.”
“You were twelve.”
“Technicality.”
Rachel laughed.
Then saw a line underlined twice:
First rule: help parents before they have to ask strangers.
Her smile vanished.
She looked toward the lemonade stand.
Cole knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I was late.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She was already asking strangers.”
Rachel touched the cardboard sign.
HELPING MOM
Cole looked ashamed.
“I should've come the first time I saw it.”
“You didn't know.”
“I knew enough.”
“You were grieving.”
“Still am.”
Rachel closed the notebook.
“Maybe being late and still showing up counts.”
Cole looked at her.
“You tell yourself that?”
“I’m going to start.”
He smiled.
Rachel returned the notebook.
Cole placed it carefully inside the saddlebag.
Before leaving, he handed Rachel a business card.
Not fancy.
MADDOX MOTOR & MACHINE
Address.
Phone.
“That's your shop?”
“Yes.”
“If anything goes wrong with the fund, call.”
“Money isn't the only thing that can go wrong.”
“I know.”
He looked toward Lily.
“If she has another hospital stay and you need someone to sit in a parking lot and look terrifying, I’m qualified.”
Rachel smiled.
“Very.”
Cole mounted the bike.
Then stopped.
“Rachel.”
“Yes?”
“Don't tell Lily she owes Megan anything.”
Rachel frowned.
“I wouldn't.”
“Good.”
He looked serious.
“That's not what this is.”
“I know.”