“Thank you.” Molly stows her quartz back in her purse. “But are you sure you wouldn’t like to explore any lingering issues? Get in touch with your inner child?”
“My emotional maturity is around two most days,” says Nash. “I think we have it covered.”
“Thank you again, Molly,” I say. “You’ve saved us.”
She rises from the armchair with an uncertain smile. “That’s always nice to hear.”
Grandma ushers her out. “Watch the step there. Doubtless you see them coming. Goodbye!”
And the front door is shut. We’re safe.
Nash blows out a big breath. “How lucky are we that her spirit guide didn’t tell her we were fake?”
“Could have been awkward,” I say.
“Now you’ve had a taste of how difficult it can be living a lie.” Grandma looks down her nose at us. Which is tricky, given she’s the shortest in the room. “I must say, you two seem to be sadly lacking in the skills required to keep up this nonsense. You barely made it five minutes.”
I shrug. “While people are generally confused about us as a couple, they’ll be less inclined to wonder if he reminds them of a certain rockstar.”
“Country-rockstar,” he corrects me.
Grandma returns to the kitchen and her glass of juice without further comment. She is not happy.
“Do you think I should leave?” Nash leans against the living room wall with his arms crossed over his chest. It makes the muscles seem mighty indeed. Not to ogle him or anything. “It might be best. What do you say, June?”
“Do you want to leave?” I don’t have a mild panic attack at the thought. Aaron Porter and I are just friends.
“No.” He studies the floor. “I like this town. And I like being with you and your grandma. When she isn’t being mean and threatening me with a stick. I spent so much time alone the last few years. My world just seemed to get smaller and smaller. Which is wild, given I was traveling the globe and playing arenas and throwing parties that filled the house with people.”
I remain silent, waiting for him to continue.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Then stay.”
“Nash, you can help me in the garden today,” announces Grandma from the kitchen. “I have a yearning for a fountain and maybe a rock feature out front.”
He cracks his neck. “You got it, Audrey.”
“Don’t worry,” I say with a smile. “Everything is going to be fine.”
CHAPTER FIVE
It’s a warm evening and the fireflies are out. They’re magical, moving among tree limbs and the longer grass growing by the river. Getting to be outside on nights like this are a gift. Back home, it’d be too hot to leave the air conditioning for another hour or two at best.
Grandma has gone to Thursday night bingo. I take the opportunity to tend to the contents of her display cabinet. Carefully handwashing the crystal glasses and bowls she inherited from her mother. Polishing the silver tea set that originally belonged to her grandmother. She mentioned meaning to get around to doing the job. And it’s nice to think of the family history and the women who came before me.
Food arrives just as I finish up.
“You’re running out of light,” I say, carrying two bottles of beer and the pizza box.
“Yeah,” answers Nash, down on his knees. “That and the will to live.”
There’s a slight decline from the house’s back deck down to the water. An assortment of flowers are freshly planted along the edge of the deck. I recognize asters and yarrow, sage and poppies. “She changed her mind about a water feature?”
“For now. There’s a shiny new birdbath at the side of the house, and she had me plant these, along with some semi-mature trees and a bunch of bushes. And then there was the weeding.” He takes one of the beers, and downs about half of it. The way his throat works is fascinating. Then he checks the time on his chunky silver colored watch. “Are you willing to share that pizza by any chance?”
“I am.”
