“Yes, fifteen years have a way of doing that. But you look exactly the same. I would have recognized you anywhere.”
And she couldn’t have picked him out of a police lineup if her life depended on it. His dark brown, shaggy hair was now short and layered and looked as if it had lightened in the sun. His gaunt, pale face was now tanned, angular, masculine. And his beanpole body was now muscle-bound.
“Broken wrist, huh?” He touched Granny Bea’s cast. Then he craned his neck, trying to read the signatures. Once he completed reading the circle of permanent marker, he smiled at Lindsay.
Her traitorous heart galloped underneath her rib cage. Stop it! I will not let my heart race over this man. This supposed friend.
“Lindsay, I appreciate you bringing her to the hospital. I’m sure you’re worn out. I’ll stay with her tonight.”
She bristled. He’d marched in and was going to try to take over Granny Bea’s care.
He’s her grandson. He has every right to.
Still, it made her mad that he lived his life way up there in Boston and barely ever spent time with his granny.
“I can stay,” she said. “I imagine you’re tired from traveling.”
“I dozed a little on the flight. Go on home. I’ll call you if she needs anything.”
“He’s right, dear. You’ve been here all day.”
What could she do? “Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow morning with some fresh clothes for her.”
“Thanks.” He started to hold out a hand, as if he were going to shake her hand, but then the gesture ended up as a little wave. A somewhat dorky wave, more like the Bill she remembered.
She was comforted by the fact that he was still Bill. Yet that little wave reminded her of the friend she’d lost.
Bill wasn’t sure he’d be able to catch his breath until Lindsay was gone. He had to get a grip or she might think she needed to rush him down to the E.R.
Her eyes were still as violet-blue, her hair as deep red, thick and smooth as it had been when she was eighteen.
He was a complete sap. A thirty-three-year-old acting like a lovesick teenager.
He walked to the other side of Granny’s bed, putting distance between him and Lindsay. She’s only a woman like any other. Nothing special. Just happens to have been blessed with gorgeous eyes and hair. And just happens to be the girl I fell in love with ages ago.
“Well, Granny Bea, I’ll see you bright and early.” Lindsay kissed Granny’s head. “Make Bill take good care of you.”
“Thanks for everything, dear. Get some rest, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lindsay smiled fondly at Granny, which didn’t help his composure a bit. She stepped toward the door. “Good night.” She made brief eye contact with Bill, but then turned and left.
“So you fell off the porch while taking out the trash?” he asked.
She huffed. “Yes. Silly on my part.”
“I thought you hired Lindsay to help with that.”
“I did. But she was running late this morning—had to get the boys at the last minute.”
“The boys?”
“Her nephews. Her brother Gregory is divorced and has sole custody. Lindsay’s like a mother to his boys and keeps them a good bit. She was about to take them to day care this morning, then she and I were going to go to work.”
“Work?”
“At the community center. They hired her as director, and I’m working as her assistant.”
“You mean you’re volunteering?”
“At first I was. Now I’m hired.” She grinned, and looked so proud. “My first job outside the home—at age eighty-three.”
His granny working? But her home was her life. She’d always been there for him and his brother Drake after his parents died, moving them in with her—cooking, cleaning, helping with homework, chauffeuring them to lessons and Drake to sports practices.
“Why would you get a job now? You don’t need the money.”
“That’s a silly question. I love it! It gives me a reason to get out of bed each day.”
Had Granny been depressed? Had she been lonely? “You won’t be able to work with that cast.”
“Oh, I don’t think this’ll stop me.”
“Well, I want to talk with the doctor tomorrow. There’s always the concussion to consider.”
She waved away his concerns. “You should go to the house for the night, son. Don’t try to sleep here.”
He looked around the room and spotted a chair. “I bet that folds out into a recliner. I’ll be fine here.”
She smiled at him, and her lower lip quivered. “I’m so happy to see you, baby. It’s nice to have you home. Even if I had to break my arm to get you here.” She patted his cheek. “I’m teasing.”
It was the truth, though. He’d been away for too long. And whenever he did visit, it was a brief thirty-six-hour stay. He usually flew in on a Friday night, spent Saturday at Granny’s, maybe took her out to eat in Athens, then flew out early Sunday morning. He tried to avoid the townspeople. He had never fit in here.
Maybe he should hang around for a couple of days. To make sure she would be okay with her right arm out of commission. But if she could fall off her own porch doing something as simple as carrying out the trash, he suspected she might be getting too feeble to live alone. “I’m glad to be home. I’d like to stay until I make sure you’re okay on your own.”
“Oh, good. We’ll break out of this joint tomorrow and have a nice time together. You, me and Lindsay.”
Lindsay? Why would she say that? Sure, they worked together some. But Granny wouldn’t need her while he was there.
A nurse stuck her head in the door as she knocked. “Mrs. Wellington, how about getting up before my shift’s over? I imagine you’re ready to go to sleep for a little while.” She looked at Bill. “And if you’re staying, we’ll get your chair fixed up with a blanket and pillow.”
“Thanks.”
As the nurse helped Granny out of bed, Bill excused himself to wait in the hallway. But before he left, he noticed what a hard time they had getting Granny out of bed, then how slowly she moved. She’d definitely aged a lot since the last time he’d been home. And a broken wrist would make getting around even harder.
He had to wonder how much longer she’d be able to live on her own. He would watch her closely the next few days.
You, me and Lindsay.
Chapter Two
Bill helped Granny in the front door of her house. She seemed worn out from the short trip home from the hospital, and leaned heavily on his arm.
“Help me into my chair. I think I’ll rest a bit.”
The sight of her recliner caused a pang in his gut. So many memories of sitting with her in that chair, her rocking him when he was young, then sharing the chair side-by-side, squeezed in together, when he thought he was too old for rocking.
He closed his eyes and let the familiar smells wash over him. Home. At least it was home as far as he could remember. Though he had memories of his mom and dad, they had always traveled extensively, so Granny had been the stability in his life.
Lindsay, who’d insisted on following them home, slipped in the