“Hey, whoa,” Beckett says, laughing when we rush by him as he comes down the stairs. “Where’s the fire, girls?”
Hearing him call us that makes my heart swell, then immediately crush, then settle back into a happy rhythm.
“Gram is here!” Lennon shouts in a feral tone, like she’s been confined to a cage for days and she’s finally broken free.
Beckett looks at me as her dark brown waves fly by us and out the door.
“No shit?” He asks me, astonished. “I guess the roads are clearing up a bit.”
I shift impatiently from side to side, and he realizes I’m waiting for him to shut up so I can see his parents. I notice the exact moment he puts it together. He motions with his head. “Go on, baby.”
I’m out the door and blazing after Lennon, not a second thought to what he just said.
When I get to our side of the creek, she’s already shouting over to Mary. The sweet little soul tries to introduce me to her grandparents.
“Clover, this is my Gram and my Papa!” She says proudly. I lean over and hug her.
“I know, little love. They’ve known me my whole life!” She puts it together now. I really did grow up with her Dad and Aunt B.
“Clover girl! I wish I could get across this water and hug your neck,” Mary calls over.
I wave excitedly at her. “I know, me too! I could use one of your hugs right about now. Seems I brought the end of the world back to Montana with me, and your son is in its aftershock,” I half-joke.
“Now you stop that, Clover Jane,” Mary’s son in question booms from behind me. “She isn’t causing the end of the world, but she is being a pain in my ass,” he tells them, and I bump him with my hip. He looks down at me and smiles, a sly wink reassuring me that it’s all okay.
“What are y’all doing here?” He asks his parents.
His dad, Hayes, drops the tailgate on his truck.
“We drove by earlier to come see y’all, and your bridge was out. I reckoned we could get you some supplies to try and fix it. Your cell service must be out,” his dad says gruffly. He’s an incredibly friendly guy; he sounds rougher than he actually is.He moves out of the way, and I see he’s loaded the truck down with lumber, rebar, and some bags of gravel.
They snap into a focused game planning session.
“We will rig a cable line,” Hayes calls across to Beckett. “You can build from your side.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?” I ask.
Beckett and Hayes both consider it.
“A day, maybe two, if the water keeps goin’ down,” Hayes responds.
My heart sinks at the word maybe. I’ll only have maybe two days left here. That’s not nearly enough.
The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly. Hayes and Beckett set up the cable system between a tree on their side and one on ours. Mary packed us some snacks, including popcorn that didn’t require electricity. It’s unnerving that she just instinctively knew that Lennon wanted it, but she’s always been one step ahead, even when I was a kid.
I helped when I could, but mostly I kept Lennon occupied and watched Beckett work. He was focused, shoulders tense. He would stand up and wipe his brow now and then, moving the sweat-soaked hair away from his eyes, or wiping his muddy hands on his jeans, which were now more stained than they were to begin with. This is him in his environment, this is his world, and I’m standing inside of it. I rub my chest with my hand to try to quell the pain I have, the physical feeling of wanting someone so badly that I hurt without them in my arms.
“Well, we should probably call it,” Hayes huffs from the other side of the creek. When I look over, Mary is sitting there, cross-armed, with a knowing smile and a brow raised. I look around, wondering what she’s so invested in, but when I don’t see anything and look back, she looks pointedly between Beckett and me. I feel my face burn red and turn my attention to Lennon, who is trying to catch something in the mud.
“Come on, sweet girl, let’s try to get you cleaned up,” I say, brushing my own dirty hands off on my jeans before holding out my hands to help her up.
Beckett and his dad are going over plans for tomorrow, and Mary asks us if we need anything else.
“I could use some paja-” I start, but Beck cuts me off.
“Nope, all good here,” he says. I swear he glares at me.
I blink at him and turn back to his folks. “Nope, all good here,” I mimic. Mary smiles again. This lady is going to be the death of me.
