“You little liar,” I growled at her.
She smiled, though feebly.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Do you think you can make it to my car?”
I was glad to have it back.
I’d let Holly use it for two weeks, and I’d been stranded at home or at Boone’s office.
Nothing against either of those things—because I loved being stranded with Boone—but it was hard being around him and his space and not want to bury myself in him or his scent.
And it looked weird when he came home randomly and I was face deep in one of his previously worn hoodies.
Best to not be here and pretend that I wasn’t dying piece by literal piece as I continued to keep that wall up between us.
We hadn’t talked with Margery, either, about the status of our relationship.
“What are we going to do in it?” she asked.
“First, I want to drive past the state park and show you how cute your grandson looks in his uniform.” I smiled. “And we’re going to take him lunch because he went to my doctor’s appointment with me and decided he’d skip lunch.”
She eyed me warily. “Are you ever going to tell me that news? Or should I keep pretending I don’t know?”
I grinned, unsurprised that she’d figured it out on her own. Guess that’s what we get for waiting so long to share the news with her.
“Everything’s fine,” I answered her unspoken question. “The baby is thriving.”
Relief hit her weathered face.
It struck me then, how much older she looked.
Even since I last saw her a couple of days ago.
She was fading fast.
“I’ll never, ever forgive you if you die before you can meet our baby.”
Margery’s lips twitched. “I’ll try really hard. No promises, though. I’m tired, child.”
I knew she was.
“Would it make you light up inside if I took you somewhere secret?”
She blinked slowly. “What kind of secret?”
I backed out of my parking spot and sped down the length of the driveway.
My lips twitched when I saw the Wicked Witch of Montana walking her stuck-up ass away from the reaming I’m sure she’d just given the gardener.
Probably too much pink in her garden again…
Gail’s eyes narrowed on me, but I didn’t slow down or look at her as I sped past.
“I hate her,” I grumbled.
Margery’s laugh was musical as she said, “I concur.”
