Shelby glanced down at Oliver, whose eyes had closed. His dark lashes feathered the tops of his petal-soft cheeks, curling ever so gently. Her heart rolled over. She hadn’t seen him since she and Dad went to New York for his birth. He’d already grown so much. By the time she saw him again, he might well be crawling. “How long can you guys stay?”
“A week or so—if Dad and I don’t kill each other first. My next showing isn’t until December, but I have a lot of work to do before then.”
“You don’t mind if I just keep Oliver here with me for a few months, do you?”
“You might change your mind when you’ve gotten up with him twice a night for a week straight.”
She gazed at the baby’s precious face. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I could forgo lots of sleep for some sweet cuddles with this little guy.”
“I think you’ll have your hands full enough with the bookshop.”
Shelby’s mood plummeted. Gram had made it clear over the years that Shelby would always have a place at the bookstore. But the thought of working there, much less running the place, without Gram opened a hollow spot inside. It would never be the same again. “You’re right about that. There’s a lot I don’t know.” Gram had done the accounting and handled the inventory. She was a whiz with the computer program. Shelby had been happy handling the customers and managing the otherbooksellers. “She never really got around to teaching me her end of things.” Mainly because Shelby had put it off.
“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”
Maybe so, but Shelby would probably just hire someone to fill her grandma’s role. They’d need an extra person now anyway, and Shelby would rather work the floor than be stuck in the office all day.
She didn’t want to fret about the store right now though. She gazed down at her sleeping nephew and could practically feel the oxytocin flooding her system.
“I saw Gray skulk into the visitation at the last minute.” His lips twisted on the name.
The feel-good hormone dried up like steaming pavement after an August rain. “I saw him.”
“Did he say anything to you?” His tone implied that he’d better not have.
“Nope.”
“Good. He doesn’t deserve your time or attention. You’re better off without him.”
“I’m sure he’s already halfway back to Riverbend Gap by now.” Because, yes, that was where he lived these days. Only three hours away. She knew this because Gram had kept in contact with him. As Gray’s grandma’s lifelong friend, Gram had felt she owed it to Dorothy to look out for him after Dorothy passed. Shelby could respect her grandmother’s loyalty, though she had long ago asked Gram to keep news of him to herself. She’d mostly complied, though sometimes things “slipped out.”
Caleb glanced through the window to the porch where their dad was saying good-bye to someone. “Guess I’ll go talk to Dad. Want me to take Ollie?”
Shelby edged the baby away from him. “I’m not finished collecting cuddles.”
He ran a hand though his hair, which fell artfully into place. “All right.”
“Want me to go with you? Be your buffer?”
“I probably need to stop depending on other people to fill that gap.”
“Just ask him how he’s doing. If there’s anything you can do.”
“He’ll say I could move back home where I belong, and then we’ll be well on our way to World War III.”
“Good point. Well, just go be with him. Talk about something benign—the great start to Duke’s season.” The football team was about the only thing they had in common these days.
“Good thought. Thanks.” He headed toward the front door like a man headed toward death row.
And Shelby headed to her old room. She wanted just a few minutes to enjoy little Ollie before she had to resume her role as grieving granddaughter. Her feet felt heavy as she made her way down the hall.Oh,Gram, you’re supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to die. What will we all do without you?
Chapter 2
A rush of cool air washed over Shelby as she entered the offices of Barclay and Greenwood set on the edge of town just past Dottie’s Donuts (which she might or might not have visited on the way). She’d passed the office a million times but had never had reason to enter. The lobby smelled like lemon Pledge and fresh reams of paper.
From behind her desk Becky Field’s brown eyes softened on Shelby, her laugh lines visible even though she wasn’t smiling. She was at least sixty, but her hair had been a coiffed platinum blonde for as long as Shelby could remember. They attended the same church, but Becky wasn’t a reader and only ever came into the bookstore to shoot the breeze.
“Hi, honey. How are you doing? It was such a lovely service yesterday. Your gram would’ve loved it.”
