by Anna Paige
I’d never really met her, but if the stories were true, I was going to love her to pieces.
Twenty minutes in and there was no question.
I wanted to be Gran when I grew up.
After everyone finished eating, we all settled into the comfortable couches in the—television free—living room with cups of eggnog. No alcohol in Talia’s, of course, which Gran took to mean she could double up on the amount in her own. If regular Gran was funny, tipsy Gran was downright hilarious. I nearly busted a gut at her filter-free commentary.
And when Spencer accidentally called Clay and Ali ‘The Humpingtons’ in front of her?
I almost wet myself.
Gran laughed at Clay’s mortified expression and announced to the room, “It’s the honeymoon phase. My late husband and I were the same way. We were burning it down every chance we got for the first eighteen months, at least. Maybe longer. It’s a wonder we didn’t starve to death.”
Clay shuddered and hunched his shoulders like he’d been hit with a bucket of ice water. “Gran!”
She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. “Oh, shit’s sake, Clay. I had two children with the man. Ever consider how that happened?”
Talia shot a hand up from her spot in the recliner as she rubbed her swollen belly with the other. “Oh, I know, I know!” She waved like a teacher’s pet.
“Kill me now.” Clay muttered, returning to the crystal punch bowl for a refill. He even grabbed the bottle and added an extra shot—or three—to his cup, downing it in one long swallow.
“Mrs. Bennett, you should move to Denson. I haven’t laughed this much in forever,” I told her.
She came over and took a seat, teetering on the arm of the couch and smiling down at me. “It’s Gran. Mrs. Bennett was my mother-in-law, God rest her soul, and she was the vilest old bitch I ever met. So, please, do me a favor and call me Gran so I don’t picture her withered face every time you speak to me.”
I laughed, nodding my cooperation. “If you hated her so much, why throw in the ‘God rest her soul’ comment?”
“Insurance,” she said simply.
“Insurance?” I grinned, furrowing my brow and anxiously awaiting what came next, because I knew her answer would be hilarious.
“Hell yes, insurance. I’m too old to be pissing off the man upstairs so I show the proper respect, even if the person I’m referring to was a gnarled old bitch who slept hanging upside down and spewed more shit than a busted septic tank.”
When the room quieted from all the laughter, I repeated, “You should move to Denson.”
“Nah,” she waved me off. “I need to be near the beach and the night life. If I didn’t show up to karaoke at the bar twice a month, they’d send out a search party.”
“Bar?” I quirked a brow at Clay, who rolled his eyes.
“Biker bar,” he added unhappily, looking like he needed another refill.
I whipped my gaze to her. “Really? They don’t bother you in there?”
She scoffed and gave me a wide grin. “They love me.”
“I can see why. You’re awesome,” I tell her, nudging her arm.
“Well, I did have a little run in a while back but it only happened once and after that it was smooth sailing.”
Clay stilled with his cup halfway to his mouth. “Run-in?”
The room got deathly quiet.
“It was nothing, Clay. Better you not know.”
He placed his cup on the coffee table with great care and moved to stand in front of her, which put him basically right in front of me as well. “Tell me.” His tone was terrifyingly stony.
Gran blew out a frustrated breath and shrugged. “One of the old guys who hangs out at the bar grabbed my ass when I was walking up to the stage to sing.”
Clay’s hands fisted at his sides, his knuckles cracking loudly. “That it?”
“No…” She hedged and looked him square in the eye. “When I turned back to say something, he winked and told me…”
“What did he tell you?” Clay snapped impatiently.
Spencer and Brant were looking murderous themselves at this point.
Gran stared her grandson down. “He said he might be too old to cut the mustard but he was still pretty good at licking the jar.”
Cue stunned silence.
Don’t laugh.
I bit my lip. Hard.
Don’t laugh.
My shoulders started to shake.
“So, I slapped him so hard he fell off his barstool and cracked his only remaining tooth,” she finished.
Oh, shit.
Too late.
The entire room—Clay included—erupted into fits of howling, gasping, side-splitting laughter. Talia laughed so hard she jumped up and ran from the room as best she could with her enormous belly, still cackling and accusing Gran of conspiring with the baby to make her piss herself.
I got up a few minutes later to refill my eggnog, enjoying the mild buzz but enjoying the company even more. I never would have touched anything with liquor in it a few months ago. But that was the old me, the one who let old painful memories prevent me from making new happy ones.
Brant joined me at the punch bowl, leaning down to kiss my shoulder where my sweater had slipped down. “Hey there, gorgeous. Having fun?”
“I’m having a blast. Best party ever.” I kissed him briefly before another fit of giggles hit.
“Gran is a handful, isn’t she?” He chuckled.
I nodded agreeably and raised a brow. “She sure did take care of herself with that biker. I wish I could have been there.” I poked him playfully in the side. “Just goes to show you, sometimes it’s better to save yourself.”
He just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You and Gran can kick ass. Doesn’t mean you should have to.”
“You know,” I tugged the hair at his nape, running the dark curls through my fingers. “I can demonstrate some of my new-found self-defense techniques later. I could have you on your back in two seconds flat.”
“You can have me on my back anytime you want, as long as you’re ready to saddle up and ride.”
“I heard that!” Gran called from across the room, winking when Brant’s wide-eyed stare fell on her.
“Well, there went that boner,” he muttered into his cup.
I reached out and pinched his ass. “It’ll be back. Just wait till I get you alone. I may or may not have bought some mistletoe pasties online, which were delivered today.”
“Yep. It’s back,” he laughed.
“I figured it might be.”
•••
The next night, we lay snuggled beneath a blanket on my couch watching Scrooged and sipping deliciously rich hot chocolate that I’d made ‘Jennie-style.’ Brant cleared his throat and the hand he’d been running through my hair halted momentarily. “I need to ask you something. You can say no if you want, if it’s too weird or uncomfortable…”
I lifted my head off his chest and propped up on one elbow. “I happen to love weird.”
He gave a forced chuckle that showed his nervousness. “Good thing.”
“What did you want to ask?” His nerves were making me apprehensive, too.
“I need you to go somewhere with me,” he hedged.
“Absolutely. Where?”
“Zoey’s grave.” His eyes scanned my face as he rushed to explain. “I want to go when we’re in town for the holidays. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go back since her funeral, but it’s time. I need to tell her goodbye. To let her go. And as stupid as it sounds, I want to introduce you so she knows that I’m okay now. That we’re okay.”
“That’s not weird at all. It’s amazing and brave and beautiful.” I kissed his temple. “I’d be glad to go with you and be introduced. We can pick up a beautiful holiday arrangement to place there on the way.”
He reached up and cupped my cheek with his warm palm, skimming his thumb over my skin. “You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t know ho
w I got so lucky.”
“I think the same thing about you. Every single day.” I leaned into his touch like a cat.
“I was wondering about something else…”
I huffed out a small laugh. “You’re on a roll tonight, aren’t you, Weirdo?”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “You know me, always thinking. It’s a curse.”
“So… what was that extraordinary mind of yours contemplating this time?”
His expression turned pensive. “Well, I know you haven’t said much on the subject but I thought I’d ask, just in case.” He cleared his throat. “Um, if you want Spencer to do some research and find where your mom was buried… you know, for whatever reason… if you wanted to go, I can get him to track the info down.”
I just stared, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Some sort of emotion. But there was nothing.
“I didn’t want to upset you, but I thought since I was going to Zoey’s grave, trying to let go of all of that, maybe you’d like to do the same with your mom.” He studied my face nervously when I still said nothing. “Are you okay?”
I turned my face into his palm and dropped a soft kiss there before meeting his gaze. “I’m perfectly fine. That’s the problem, or maybe it’s not a problem at all, I don’t know. I want to feel something now that I know she’s gone but I don’t. At first I thought it was because there was so much going on, but even as time passed and things calmed down, I still didn’t react to it. I tried. I forced myself to think about her late at night when I was here alone, wondering what her life was like after the state took me. I wondered if she ever thought of me or missed me. None of that made me feel a damn thing.” I shrugged. “I think if she’d ever shown love for me, if we’d ever had any kind of bond no matter how tenuous, I might miss her. But you can’t lose something you never had. I was an orphan when she was ten feet down the hall and I’m still an orphan. For me, nothing has changed. Is that horrible?”
“Not in the slightest. You’re right. There’s no reason to look for closure. That chapter of your life was closed a long time ago.” His thumb returned to sweeping across my cheek, his hand cupping my jawline.
I swirled my hand over his chest, letting it rest over his heart. “Thank you for wanting to help, though. It’s just two different situations. You and Zoey had a bond. You loved each other. And it makes sense for you to need this closure. Hell, I never met her and I feel her loss more than my mother’s. Because she was good and kind, and losing her was a real tragedy. But not everyone you lose is a loss. Sometimes gone is just gone.” I shrugged again. “Now that we have that settled, I do want to ask you to go with me somewhere. And you’re not going to like it.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Um… okay. Where?”
“Bonnie’s. To see Marilee.” My pinched expression was hard to mask. “I thought maybe we could see them sometime after we leave your parent’s.”
He blew out a breath and looked about as excited as I expected but he nodded anyway. “We can do that. No problem.”
I had to laugh at his lack of enthusiasm. “It’s not a trip to the proctologist, Weirdo. And we can even stay at a hotel. I just need to see Mar and she can’t seem to bring herself to come back to the house yet.”
Something passed across his face and just like that, he was agreeable. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.”
“I’m hoping to get her back to Denson soon, though. If for no other reason than I want her to meet Gran next time she’s around. I think Mar needs someone fun and energetic like that right now. It’s got to be better than being with her dried up, hateful old crow of a sister.”
He laughed, pulling me down to snuggle against his chest again. “That’s a brilliant idea, gorgeous. They’d definitely hit it off. I’ll see what I can do about getting them both in the same place.”
“Speaking of being in the same place, how would you feel about spending the night tonight?” I ran a finger over his ribcage, then down toward the waistband of his jeans. “Not that I need a protector but having you here to keep me warm is nice.”
“So, you just want to cuddle so you’re not cold? Is that the extent of it? Or is this a ploy to get in my pants?” He drawled, evidence of his erection already showing behind his zipper.
“What if I said both?”
“Then I’d say tonight is your lucky night, baby girl.”
I kissed his chest and cupped him through his pants. “Every night with you has been my lucky night. But I think it’s about to get luckier.”
•••
Christmas Eve was bitterly cold, with an overcast sky that threatened snow with each approaching hour. Brant and I were leaving around lunchtime to go to his parent’s house for the holidays. I was finishing up a few things at the diner, having decided to close after the lunch rush and not reopen until noon on the twenty-sixth to give the staff some extra time with their families.
Paychecks weren’t due out for a few days but I’d processed them early, along with Christmas bonuses, and was looking forward to handing them out before I left. I was also going to make the official announcement that the diner had been left to me in Teach’s will. It was exciting. Scary, but exciting.
I told Brant I would meet him at the cabin around noon, which was a little over an hour away. Wanting to squeeze in one more stop, I hurried to finish signing checks and making out cards for the staff, then called everyone in the back to hand everything out and make my announcement. Everyone seemed just as excited as I was at the news and not a single person gave any indication that they wouldn’t be staying on. It made me feel good that they trusted me to do a good job with this, realizing that their incomes would basically rely on my ability to run the diner.
I said my goodbyes, had one of the day cooks walk me to my car as usual, and headed off. I needed to say one more goodbye before Brant and I set off.
I hadn’t been to the cemetery since I’d been back and I needed to do this, to talk to my uncle about everything before I left Denson again, before I spent my first Christmas without him since I was a little girl.
There were faint wisps of snow fluttering in the air when I parked on the grass at the edge of the small cemetery. There wasn’t another soul around, just the quiet breeze that brought goosebumps to my arms even through my jacket. I checked that my taser was clipped to my belt and walked between the headstones, glancing at the names and wondering at how far back some of the dates went. Stalling. That was what I was doing. And once I realized it, I squared my shoulders and went directly to Teach’s grave, halting at the foot of it and bowing my head while I gathered my thoughts.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit in a while.” My voice was tentative and hoarse. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never talked to a headstone before and I feel a little odd standing here, wondering if I’m crazy to think you might hear me somehow. But, just in case you can hear, I want you to know that I miss you. I miss you every minute of every day and I want you back more than anything in the whole world.” I swallowed thickly and shoved my hands in my pockets to warm them. My right hand closed around the note Brant had written, tucked away there just as it was the first time, and it gave me a measure of comfort.
I moved up the edge of the grave, careful not to walk on it and rested my hand on the headstone as if holding onto his shoulder like I’d done so many times over the years. “You saved me.” I whispered through trembling lips. “You gave me a chance to grow up and be safe and happy. You stuck by me when I had no one, when I had nothing to hold onto except the pain. You loved me when I was unlovable. You risked your career to get me into college. You held my hand when I woke up screaming, and you told me it would be all right, that one day I would beat the memories into submission and I would become the woman I was always meant to be.” I ran my hand over the cold stone and smiled through my tears. “And for the first time in my life, I believe that. I’m taking charge and fightin
g to be that woman. I only wish you could have been here to see it.”
I squatted down, balancing precariously as I traced the letters of his name. “I’m going to make you proud, Teach.” Pressing my lips to the icy cold stone for the briefest of moments, I stood, smoothing my clothes absently and looking down at the unremarkable plot of land that held the most remarkable soul I’d ever known. “Since I’m already talking so much anyway, maybe you’d like to know that I finally found someone to love. I mean real love, Teach. All the way down to my toes love, that makes me want to take his name and have his babies and grow old with him. Dangerous love, because you and I both know that’s not going to happen, at least not the way I want it. I can’t give him that, won’t ever have the honor of bearing his children, but I can give him most of it. I can give him my heart.” The tears were rolling again, and the cold wind made it feel as if they would freeze to my cheeks. “If I’m incredibly lucky, maybe he’ll decide my heart is enough.”
I gave the headstone a final loving pat. “Merry Christmas, Teach. I love you so much.”
I barely made it to the car before falling apart.
It took me a few minutes to stop sobbing and get myself under control enough to drive to Brant’s cabin.
When I got there, there was no sign of him and the place was locked up tight.
•••
Three calls to his cell phone all went to voicemail. No reply to my texts. No idea where he was.
I was starting to worry. If he’d been out running errands, he would have picked up. Denson was a small town but there was cell coverage pretty much everywhere.
So where the hell was he and why wasn’t he picking up?
As more long minutes ticked by, I chewed my lip and stared down the driveway for any sign of his arrival.
Nothing.
I called his cell again.
Nothing.
Shit.
Scrolling through my contacts, I found the name I was looking for and initiated the call. Either I was being paranoid or something was really wrong.
