“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. But not one of those pouty, poor-me sounds that drove him nuts. “She died when I was eleven.”
“Oh.” He looked back out the windshield. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago. More than twenty years. Speaking of weird. They say time heals everything, but I’m not sure that’s true. Wears down the sharp edges, maybe, so they don’t hurt anymore. Or at least not as much...” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “And I’m rambling, sorry. Must be the sugar rush from the cookies.”
“No problem.” Since as long as she talked, he didn’t have to. Or deal with the crazy thoughts swirling inside his head. But since she’d brought up the subject...
“And your dad...?”
She hesitated, then said flatly, “Heart attack when I was fifteen. But I didn’t see him much, anyway, after my mother died.”
Pain flashed, like stubbing an already-sore toe. “Why not?”
“Who knows? Wasn’t as if we ever discussed it. Although my guess is that he couldn’t see himself as a single father. Or any kind of father, frankly, since he’d never been real hands-on before.”
He spared her a quick glance. “So where’d you end up living?”
“With my grandmother. My mom’s mom.”
“And was that...okay?”
“Actually it was the best thing that could have happened. I adored her, for one thing. And at least she wanted me. My father obviously didn’t. And since my grandfather had died a year or so before, well...we kept each other from falling apart. I know Gran did me, anyway.”
They stopped for a red light. “What a crappy thing to do to a kid. Your dad, I mean.”
She was quiet for a moment, then said, “People are who they are. They don’t change simply because you want them to.” Her shoulders bumped. “So like I said, it worked out the way it was supposed to—”
Boomer started barking at some dog in the car next to them. Tyler reached around and yanked the mutt back from the window. “You don’t own the street, dumbass— Hey! Knock it off! Lay down!”
On a frustrated sigh, the dog obeyed. Only to whumph-whumph under his breath for the next several seconds, making Laurel chuckle.
“So is your grandmother still around?” Tyler asked as the light changed.
“Oh, yeah. You might’ve seen her. Tiny, white-haired? Drives a Prius?”
“That’s your grandmother’s?”
“Yep. She sold her house a few months ago and moved to Sunridge—”
“The retirement community over by the outlet mall?”
“The very one. You ever been there?” When he shook his head, she chuckled. “I swear, if the age limit wasn’t fifty-five, I’d be tempted to move in. Gran says it’s to prepare everyone for heaven, since it’s highly doubtful it could be much better than Sunridge. Anyway...so that’s when I bought the house.”
“Wait—you’d been living with your grandmother all that time?”
“Oh, I was away for a few years, during college, and then after, when I lived in the city. Then I moved back,” she said without a trace of shame in her voice. “One, because I couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone as she got older, and, two, because staying there let me sock away a nice chunk of change for my down payment. Between that and the low interest rate I got on my mortgage, my payments are like nothing.”
“But wasn’t that a little hard on, um, your personal life?” At her silence, he sighed. “And I just stepped way over the line, didn’t I?”
Another light laugh preceded, “That’s assuming I have one.”
“A line? Or a personal life?”
“Either. Both. Although Gran always made it clear my life was my own. Well, within reason, of course. And not until I’d reached what she called the ‘age of reason.’ But she always encouraged me to make my own choices, to do what feels right for me, without worrying about what anyone else thinks of those choices. So it was my choice to move back to Jersey, to stay with Gran as long as she wanted me around.”
“Then she moved out on you.”
“Pretty much. Said I was cramping her style. But we still see each other at least once a week. She’s my rock,” she said softly, then smiled. “Even if she does drive me nuts on a regular basis. And it sure beats talking to myself all the time.”
“You don’t date? Go out?” She gave him another look, her mouth twitching at the corners. “Hey. You’re the one who said there’s no line. So I’m curious why you’re always home. Since you seem really nice,” he pushed on. Because he was an idiot, for one thing, and it wasn’t like he ever intended to make a move on the woman, for another. “And you’re okay looking—”
She laughed again. “So much for thinking you were one of those charmer types.”
“And you’ve got a really nice laugh—”
“Dude. Awesome last-minute save.”
“Not to mention a pretty decent sense of humor.”
“Why, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused. “You think I’m a charmer?”
“I’ve seen you with your lady friends. From time to time. So, yeah. You definitely know how to work it.”
“You’ve been spying on me?”
“Says the man who wonders why I’m always home.”
“Touché.” They turned back down their street. Sensing they were almost home, Boomer plopped his drooly chin on Tyler’s shoulder, whining softly. “Still. You make it sound like your grandmother’s the only person you ever see. Which—no offence to your grandmother, I’m sure she’s a great lady—but—”
“I like being alone,” Laurel said quietly. “Not all the time, no, but...alone is my safe place. Really. Besides which, I’m a writer. I don’t go out much because I work from home. And my girlfriends—from school, from when I worked in the city—they’ve all moved on. Or moved away. They got married, started families... I mean, sure, we all meant to keep in touch, but then everyone got busy, and...” As they pulled into Tyler’s driveway, she shrugged. “That’s life, right?”
Not sure what to say to that, Tyler mumbled a noncommittal “I guess,” then got out of the car, herding the dog back inside the house and quickly shutting the door. Much offended howling ensued.
“Puppy’s not happy?” Laurel said when he returned.
“What was your first clue?” he said, backing out of the driveway again. “And he usually goes with me wherever, but I don’t know if I can take him in with us at the brickyard, and I don’t like leaving him in the truck.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “So I take it you’ve known Starla for a while?”
“Jeez, lady—signal before you turn, okay?”
“Sorry, got tired of talking about myself. Another hazard of living alone, you forget the finer points of human interaction. And being a novelist, curiosity is my default mode. Relationships fascinate me. People fascinate me.”
“You think I’m fascinating?”
“I was talking about Starla?”
“Oh. Right.”
“I’d love to know her history. What, or who, made her who she is today. It’s like...her