Lark had been looking out her side window the whole time, and now she turned and looked out the windshield. “Yeah,” she said, but her voice sounded distant. She held her phone in one hand and had her arms crossed, and Cash knew enough not to try to touch her in this state.
He turned into the parking lot nearest to her grandmother’s condo, but bypassed all of the empty parking spaces. “I’m going to drive you right up to the sidewalk,” he said. “Then I’ll park and come join you.”
She nodded, and only a few moments later, Cash came to a stop, his truck covering two handicapped parking spots directly in front of her grammy’s building. Lark got out without a word, slammed the door behind her, and hurried down the sidewalk.
Cash sighed and rolled his neck. “Dear Lord,” He prayed. “Bless Lark that she can find a way….” He trailed off because he wasn’t sure what he was praying for. Lark to be someone else? Less tense, lessintense, less worried about someone she cared about? All of those felt wrong, and Cash sighed again, put the truck in drive, and went to find a parking space.
After braving the twilight chill, which had dropped the temperature ten degrees from when the sun had been out, and the biting wind against his chin, Cash arrived in front of Lark’s grandmother’s door and knocked.
He heard movement and voices beyond, and a few moments later, Lark opened the door. “See? It’s Cash,” she said.
All of his senses went on high alert, and he swept the area behind her for smoke or evidence of charring but found none. He breathed in deeply, but it simply smelled like his grandmother’s house, albeit with a hint of sourness that Grams and Gramps didn’t have in their condo.
Lark stepped out of the way, and Cash moved into the room so she could close the door behind him.
“Good evening, ma’am.” He tipped his hat at Grammy and then swept it off his head, clutching it in front of him as nerves ran through him. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, only that Lark’s intensity had somehow bled into him as well.
Her grandmother looked at Cash from a few feet away at the edge of the galley kitchen. She reached out one hand and placed it on the countertop. “Who is this?” She sounded like she’d been using her voice a lot, and it had turned rusty and hoarse.
“Grammy,” Lark said in a placating tone. “This is Cash. You’ve met him before.”
“I have never met this man in my life,” Grammy said.
Cash blinked, though her grandmother certainly couldn’t be attacking him personally.
“Why did you invite him here?”
“Grammy, he’s staying in Momma and Daddy’s house,” she said. “It’sCash. Remember, Jet came and got you and brought you up there for Thanksgiving? Cash made all the food.” Lark stood at his side, her voice getting a little bit louder with every word she said.
Cash had no idea what to do in this situation, and remaining silent seemed to be the best thing.
“Come on. I want you to come stay with me at the house tonight.” Lark gestured for her grandmother to go with her down the hall to the bedroom.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Grammy said, her eyes turning a bit eagley. “Why aren’t you at school?”
“It’s Thanksgiving break,” Lark said. “I go home on Sunday.”
Her grandmother had permanent frown lines between her eyes, and they only deepened. “What day is today?”
Cash reached out and took Lark’s hand in his. He squeezed, and Lark squeezed back—her way of saying,This is so stressful for me. Thank you for being here.
“It’s Friday, Grammy,” Lark said. “Thanksgiving was just yesterday. Don’t you remember you told Cash how delicious the yams were?” Hope clung to every syllable, and Cash begged God that her grandmother would remember their Thanksgiving meal.
Like the sun rising and painting the Tetons with light, her grandmother’s face cleared. “Yes, your mother made a delicious Thanksgiving dinner,” Grammy said.
Cash ducked his head, placing his cowboy hat back on to hide his eyes. He still saw Lark shake her head in his peripheral vision.
“No, Grammy,” she said, and he honestly wondered if it was worth arguing with her. “Momma and Daddy are in Costa Rica on a church service mission.” She indicated Cash with a flap of her left hand. “Cashmade Thanksgiving dinner.”
Her grandmother looked at Cash, and he raised his eyes and smiled at her, feeling very much like he was encouraging a toddler.
“Oh, yes, Cash. It’s good to see you again,” Grammy said, a quick smile touching her lips.
Relief sang through him, and every muscle in his body relaxed. At his side, Lark did the same, and she exhaled as well. “Now, why did you try to call me earlier?”
Another round of confusion puckered her face. “I didn’t call you,” she said.
“Yes, you called Jet,” Lark said. “And he said that you tried to call me first.” She lifted her hand that held Cash’s. “Cash and I were up the canyon, cutting down the Christmas tree that he’s going to put in the house.”
