She blew him a kiss and slipped out, easing the door closed behind her.
The living room was dimly lit by a single lamp. As she padded past on her way to the kitchen, hoping for a bite of something sweet and maybe a cup of herbal tea, she spied Red sunk into his old recliner, as expected.
Years ago, Mom and Dad would be in there with him, reading or playing a game. But her mother had essentially moved into the lodge since Dad died, and Gracie understood why. It had been five years, but George McBride had been a presence in this house, and a good one.
Red sat with a pair of reading glasses perched low on his nose, tapping a pencil on a clipboard where he’d printed outTheNew York Timescrossword puzzle. He claimed finishing it daily kept him sharp.
He glanced up over the rims of his glasses, his bushy brows rising. “You look like the bad guys won.”
She gave a faint smile. “Just the battle, not the war.”
He pointed his pencil toward the empty chair beside him. “Come over here, granddaughter. Let’s have a chat. And by chat, I mean what’s a six-letter word that ends in C and is…” He scowled at the fine print. “‘Like the Mona Lisa?’”
She thought about it. “Six letters that ends in C? That’s all you have?”
“There’s an O in the third box.”
“So not…classic?”
“That’s seven.”
“Mythic?”
“Has an O, assuming Benny was right and a ‘modern way to make an exit without leaving’ is ‘ghosting.’”
She gave a soft chuckle. “Where does that boy get his brains?”
“Forget brains, he’s got heart,” Red said. “Just like his mama. And by the way, the popcorn maker really does work.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
Rolling her eyes, she pointed to the kitchen. “I need tea and something sweet. How about you?”
“Only if you come back and talk to me,” he said. “Something’s on your mind.”
She gave him a knowing smile. Red Starling was truly amazing. He never pushed, but when he invited a talk, she knew she’d come away wiser and better for it.
“Okay,” she said softly, heading toward the kitchen. “Let me brew us a cup.”
She returned with two steaming mugs and a small plate of biscotti she’d brought home from the bakery, trying to decide if she should tell him about Sam’s call.
Part of her wanted to shove the whole thing into a box and lock it tight. But Red was a sounding board and she needed one.
She handed him a mug and sat down, curling one leg beneath her. Red sniffed the tea, nodded in approval, then took a sip and studied her closely. His eyes, old but still sharp, didn’t miss a thing.
“Mm-hmm,” he moaned as it went down hot. “So save us both the suspense and tell me what’s weighing on you.”
She broke a piece off her biscotti, chewed slowly, buying herself a few seconds. Finally, she sighed. “I was going to tell you eventually anyway, so…Sam is coming to town. He wants to see the dog talent contest.”
Red’s lip curled like he’d just bitten into something sour. “Benny mentioned that, but I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She nodded. “Exactly. I honestly thought he’d cancel at the last minute, like always. Benny would be crushed, and we’d have to pick up the pieces.”
“Hewillcancel,” Red said darkly. “That man’s made a career out of disappointing that boy.”
Gracie winced. “I thought so, too. But this time…might be different.”
