And then last night, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d posted a new profile picture.
I’d taken the picture using his phone. A selfie of me and him that first fake-dating night in the back of my truck. I was snuggled in his lap, his chin resting on my shoulder, his ginormous biceps locked around my waist. We were both wearing a mischievous smile like we had a secret. Because we did. We were pretending to be a thing when we weren’t. Present me, looking at past us, smiled. We’d enjoyed that opportunity to put our hands on each other, way too much. If only I’d known then, the heartbreak loving Holden Dupree would bring.
What was he trying to pull? Posting this couple shot for the whole world to see, staking his claim when I’d told him we were done, was…
“So confusing,” I said again. “Was he this flip-floppy when you knew him?” I asked ghost Savannah.
“Oh, hello?”
My head shot up with a startle to see an older woman standing there, a bouquet of pink silk tulips in her hand. Shoot. My newfound, weirdo penchant for speaking to the dead was busted. Probably by Savannah’s relative. I shifted to stand. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I?—”
“Oh, no, you don’t need to get up.” The woman smiled and knelt next to me, eyeing me curiously. Her hair was a shock of silvery-gray, cropped at her chin, and her face was pretty but wrinkled in a way that said she took good care of it, but she’d been through hard stuff. “Did you know Savvy?”
I froze, not sure if I should bolt because, who goes to the grave of someone they didn’t know and sits there, chatting it up, like they did. Or did I stay? Because her eyes said she had questions and I owed her answers.
I shook my head, chagrined. “No. I just…”
The woman’s hand reached down in an offered shake. “I’m Savannah’s grandmother, Dahlia. It’s nice to meet you.” Her last word hung in the air, waiting for me to respond in kind.
“Christy.” I shook. “Thornbury.”
Her eyes flickered with recognition like she suddenly remembered who I was. But that couldn’t be. We’d never met. But maybe she’d heard about the shirtless kissing too. Everyone else in town had. “I’m so sorry, this must seem odd to walk up and find a stranger at your granddaughter’s grave.”
She knelt, two feet away, and smiled. For an older person, she was impressively mobile. “Not at all. Holden told us what you did at that volleyball game. Calling that horrible womanout. You are most welcome here anytime, Christy Thornbury.”
My mouth had parted at Holden’s name and was still hanging there. “Holden told you about that?”
She nodded, lips pursed in an almost smile. “He did.” So he was still close with Savannah’s grandparents? The thought made my heart flutter. It was so…sweet.
But then I felt defeated and my eyes dropped to my lap because I was right. She was the love of his life and she always would be. Maybe this woman could give me closure. Or, and I shouldn’t have hoped it, a reason to prove me wrong.
She reached out and put a hand on my knee. “He loves you, you know.”
My head jerked up. “He told you we…” What were we?
Another gentle smile. “He did. Came to see us last week.” She lowered to a seat, settling in as if she knew this might take a while. “I think he wanted our permission to move on.”
I swallowed, letting that settle. “Our?”
“Me and Randall, my husband. He’s home mowing the lawn one last time for the year. At least that’s what he said. He’s kind of obsessive about it. Anyway, we raised Savannah. Her mom…” She shook her head, a wistful sadness in her eyes. “Well, she got caught up in drugs when she was in high school and she just wasn’t able to care for Savvy like she should.” They’d lost their granddaughter to suicide and had to deal with a daughter’s drug addiction too? “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
“No.” I laughed. “Please ramble. I have so many questions.” My hands flew out. “Not that you have to answer them. It’s none of my business.”
“I’m sure you do.” She studied me. “You’re struggling with this whole thing.” It wasn’t a question. I didn’t want to say anything that might take away from the love Holden had for Savannah, but I also knew if anyone could give me adifferent picture of who Holden really was and what he’d been through, it was this woman.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “The whole thing has been a struggle. He’s so tightly wound over,” I gestured at the headstone. “Her. And then there’s Amber Taylor. And I’m not sure what to believe or if…” I bit my lip, hating to admit it. “If I can trust him. I already got burned once.”
“Holden’s been through a lot. You need to know that upfront.”
I nodded, hoping she’d elaborate.
She plucked a blade of grass. “I’m not sure how much he’s told you.”
I blew out my breath. “Not much. He’s kind of closed off about it all.”
Her eyebrows puckered. “Then you probably don’t know that after Savannah passed, Amber accused him of sexual assault.”
If this kind-faced old woman had suddenly punched me in the stomach I couldn’t have been more shocked. “I didn’t…” Why couldn’t I complete a stupid sentence? And why hadn’t that come up in a Google search?
