Chapter 22

Rainey

Daisy heard Zeke first,turning away from my feet where she'd been sitting patiently, waiting for food to drop. The door opened and the sound of his heavy work boots on the wood floors made me smile down at the stove where I was working on my second attempt at lunch. The first attempt was burned to a crisp and at the bottom of the trash can.

"Hey! I made those tuna oatmeal patty things you used to love," I called over my shoulder as he stalked by the kitchen. He'd made them almost daily when we were teens in his quest to put on muscle. Based on his size now, they worked. He paused, turning toward me, but not meeting my gaze.

"Thanks." He spun and thumped away.

My smile fading, I turned off the burner, slid the patties onto a plate, and trailed behind him as he flopped down on the couch in the living room. Setting the plate on the coffee table, I had a seat on the couch with him, leaving space between us. Zeke was not only not good at hiding his emotions, he usually didn't even bother to try. It might have been sunny outside, but thunderclouds were rolling across his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, already knowing I'd have to wait him out. He was never one to jump right into sharing his feelings. It usually took countless questions and patient cajoling for him to divulge what was going on.

Zeke leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing over his face. "I'm just in a bad mood."

"You don't say," I muttered under my breath.

Zeke's head came up and he shot me a dark look. I tried to tease him a bit, hoping to pull him out of whatever mood he'd contracted since climbing out of bed this morning.

"Maybe it's just low blood sugar. Eat some lunch and I bet you'll feel better. These patties are full of protein and so low fat it's disgusting. Like actually disgusting."

Zeke spun the plate around on the table. "Thanks for lunch. I really appreciate it, but I think I just need to be alone for a bit. Get my thoughts together."

"Oh!" I shot to my feet, taken aback. Never in the history of our friendship had Zeke asked to be alone. And I'd seen him in plenty of dark moods. "Sure. Yeah. Um, I was meaning to see Grandma Gertie anyway. Do you mind if I take your truck?"

Zeke was staring at his plate, as if wishing me gone when all I wanted was to run my fingers through his thick hair. Maybe yank his face up to me and kiss away whatever was bothering him. I wanted that little smirk back, the one that said he was trying not to smile at my antics but found me too adorable to wipe the smile completely.

But this was his house and he'd just asked me to leave. To give him space. The poor man had had zero space since I showed up in town. Maybe things had moved too quickly between us. I mean, obviously they did. I had the ring on my finger to prove it, but I thought last night had been a turning point. A promise to try a real relationship. Day one and he was already asking for space?

"Okay, I'll shoot you a text so you know when I'm on my way." I ended that sentence awkwardly. Before I could finish with "home." On my way home.

Zeke lifted his gaze long enough to give me a stern nod and then it was back to focusing on the lunch I'd made him, like that tiny plate held all the answers to whatever was troubling him. I wanted to say more, anything to quell this jumpy ache in my belly, but I shut my mouth and headed out the door instead, giving him what he said he needed.

The drive over to the old Skinner House was a silent one. I didn't even bother with music. I was too busy thinking about Zeke and his dark mood and our history and if loving him was possible. Every building I passed to get through town held a memory from high school and right smack-dab in the middle of every single memory was Zeke. I always thought the way my gut turned to liquid hot lava when I remembered each of those moments when I was far away from him was simply nostalgia.

Or was that love? Did love include the excitement I felt this morning working on something that I thought might help his business? Or making him lunch and anticipating seeing his face light up? Or dancing hot and sweaty out in the yard and not caring that all our friends could see us? Or telling him every detail about my life because nothing felt as big and scary when Zeke was holding my hand?

I pulled into the long driveway of Skinner House, head swiveling at the mature trees and then gawking at the sprawling mansion. I shut off the engine and sat there for a moment. I'd never told anyone I loved them. Not once. Well, maybe when I was a little child, but my father had surely not said it back, which taught me it wasn't something worth saying. But it was worth saying and I wanted to say it to Zeke. But only if I actually meant it, and I was no more ready to say I love you as I was to say I was for sure staying in town.

Milly answered the door, her face lighting up when she saw me. I was pulled into a hug and then hustled inside, Milly's cane flying around everywhere instead of down on the ground helping her walk. "Oh, Gertie will be so happy you're here!"

I felt guilty for not coming sooner. I'd been busy with that inheritance and everything changing with Zeke, but as Milly rapped on Grandma's door and she answered with even more enthusiasm than Milly, I was glad I was there now.

"Come in, come in." Grandma slid her arm through mine and tugged me into her spacious room. There was a sitting area tucked under a wide window and that was where we sat, Grandma holding my hand between her papery-thin ones and asking me all kinds of questions. I filled her in on all my travels since I'd left Blueball. Sure, we'd talk once a year when I was gone, but the conversation had been lined with conversational bombs we were both trying to tiptoe around, which meant we didn't share much that was personal.

"Enough about me, Grandma." I squeezed her hand when she tried to ask me yet another question. "Tell me what you've been up to."

"Oh, just this and that. Dealing with these old bats." She fluttered her hand in the direction of the door. I laughed, but my gaze caught on a collection of orange bottles on her bedside table.

"You seem to be in good health."

Grandma nodded. "Oh yes, fit as can be. I hit the gym every morning and I've taken up the pickleball."

I grinned. "The pickleball, huh?" I squeezed her hand again. "Then why do you have five medications over there?" I tipped my head toward the table.

Grandma sucked on her teeth. "You weren't supposed to see those." I lifted an eyebrow and she rushed to explain. "It's not a big deal. I had a minor stroke and those are just making sure it doesn't happen again."

"A stroke? Grandma!" I stood up, pacing in front of the love seat. "When did this happen? Why didn't you call me?"

Grandma swiped her thin arm through the air. "Pshh. It wasn't a big deal."

"A stroke is a big deal!" I felt like a bird, swinging my arms about and squawking instead of speaking in a normal voice. "When? What did the doctors say?"

Grandma sat back and patted the seat next to her. Reluctantly I sat, but I stared at her expectantly. She was the only family I had left and suddenly it occurred to me that she was old. Really old. And fallible. And definitely old enough to die right in front of me, leaving me with no one. Most importantly, I'd never thanked her for taking me in and raising me when my father died. I'd been a hellion to raise and she'd done it without complaint. Certainly, the least I could do was say thank you.

"It was about eleven years ago. Old news."

My jaw dropped. "Eleven years ago? Gram, why didn't you tell me?"

Gertie scoffed. "What good would that do? You would have felt obligated to come home and you were very clear you didn't want to stay in Blueball."

I felt my heart break right there on the love seat at the retirement home. Grandma had a stroke soon after I left and hadn't wanted to bother me by calling. For all I knew, the stress of me leaving on the back of a Harley had been what pushed her over the edge medically.

"And I didn't tell you later because of that face right there." Grandma patted my cheeks. "Quit whatever it is you're thinking. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. That scare got me into physical therapy and then the gym and even the pickleball courts. I'm fitter than when I was forty."

A tear slid down my cheek and Grandma shushed me, pulling me into her arms and letting me lay my head on her bony shoulder. "I'm fine, free bird." That made me cry even more. She was the one who had a stroke and she was comforting me?

She let me cry until all the tears had dried up. When I lifted my head, she gave me that little smile of hers. "Feel better?"

I shook my head, wiping my face. "Not really. I still feel like I failed you. Failed Zeke. Hurt you both." I shook my head again when she tried to interrupt with some nonsense about my selfishness being perfectly fine. It wasn't fine. "I did hurt you both. And I'm sorry. So incredibly sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Even if I leave Blueball, I won't let the distance come between us this time."

"Oh, child. I only want to see you happy. That's all I want. Have you been happy?"

My gaze skittered away. That was a loaded question. I'd made it through life, but was I happy like I thought I'd be once I escaped Blueball? Pretty sure what I had with Danny wasn't what one would consider happiness. More like a reluctant settling on a life that was mediocre at best.

Grandma saved me from giving a firm answer out loud. "Would you get the box out from under my bed, Rainey? I have some photos from when you were little I think you should have."

I welcomed the change in subject, getting on my hands and knees to retrieve the box and shove it across the carpet to where she sat. It was covered in dust, but once we got it open, we were too busy oohing and aahing over the pictures to care. Grandma had quite the stack of photos for me to take home when I found one that made me pause. It was a photo that Grandma had taken of Zeke and me all dressed for our graduation. Zeke's parents were with us in the picture, their wide smiles full of pride. The next photograph had been just Zeke and me, but his father was off to the side, his gaze firmly fixed on Zeke, a proud smile for his son even from the wings. The love I saw on his face made my eyes burn.

"Grandma? Can I take this one too?"

"Of course, honey. Take whatever you want. These will all be yours someday anyway."

I shook my head. "Nope. You're going to live forever."

Grandma pinned me with a watery stare. "I wish I could, but I believe love lasts forever, so that's what I want you to focus on. No matter where you go or whether I'm earthside, my love for you continues."

I heaved a big breath in and out, scrambled to my knees, and threw my arms around her frail body. "I love you too, Grandma."

It felt good to finally say it. It felt right. I loved this woman and not just because she said it first. I loved her for taking me in, offering me forgiveness even when I didn't deserve it, and for showing me what unconditional love looked like. I basically abandoned her twelve years ago and she had kept right on loving me, doing what was best for me, even when she was suffering.

When I pulled away, we were both crying. The good kind of crying. The kind that heals emotional wounds.

"How about we do this once a week?" I asked, then tilted my head. "Maybe without all the crying."

Grandma patted my cheeks. "It's a date."

I helped clean up the pictures and shove the box back under the bed. When I stood, Grandma was studying me. I dusted off my hands and faced her scrutiny instead of leaving like I immediately wanted to. Running away had gotten me into too much trouble to continue it.

"What?"

"Decide quickly, Rainette," Grandma said quietly.

I opened my mouth to dispute the idea of me leaving, but she cut me off.

"I know the marriage wasn't for the usual reasons, so save your argument. Decide about Zeke sooner rather than later. That boy doesn't deserve more heartbreak. The longer you stay, the more he'll fall in love with you. Just don't stay because you feel obligated. That's not the kind of love Zeke or you deserve. Stay because you can't imagine living your life without him."

Her words echoed through my mind the entire drive home.