by Kahlen Aymes
“Tell me what you were up to today.” He hoped a change in subject would switch her train of thought.
“Today was pie baking day, my neighbor Abigail and I baked up a storm. She’s so lovely. Sweet as can be. You should meet her.” There went the eye roll again. Dylan pulled the phone away from his ear letting it rest at his side. She was going to give him a stress headache.
“I’ll be sure to do that the next time I visit.”
He thought for a moment about the woman his grandmother seemed to spend most of her time with. Although, they hadn’t met in person he was thankful for Abigail. It made him worry less knowing that she had someone close by.
Maybe dinner with her wouldn’t be a bad thing. It sure would be a pleasant change from the career minded women he was used to, who thought cooking meant reheating take-out meals in the microwave. And if she could hold her own baking in the kitchen with his grandmother he knew this woman had to be something. Yes indeed, he would have to look up Abigail during his next visit.
“When will that be? It’s almost been a year since I’ve seen you.” It was true he hadn’t been home for a long time. There was no other choice for him. Dylan was the type of person who didn’t want to let jobs be done halfway. So, when they took on bigger clients instead of spreading the work out to members of his team, he spread himself thinner and thinner.
“You know with the holiday I’ll have a long weekend coming up. I’ll see you next Wednesday for a long visit.” Yes, that would be perfect, seeing he was overdue for a vacation. Maybe he could tack on a few more days and take his grandmother somewhere.
Over the years, Grandma hadn’t lost her touch. She got to him with how long it had been since he came to visit. It wasn’t his fault. If he wanted to make partner, which he did, it meant going the extra mile.
Chapter One
Abigail Love walked slowly through the garden with Loki, her black lab, in her arms. She was saddened by the thought that her beloved companion would never again experience the sensations or smells of the outdoors. Also, this would be their last walk together. Everything in her life up to that point taught her one thing, that life was short.
A tear fell down the side of her cheek landing inside the empty box in the hole below. Better do it now before I lose my nerve, she thought.
Kneeling down ever so carefully with Loki cradled in her arms, she lowered him into the box. Part of her wished he would open his eyes and jump around to make her chase him in the tall grass. Her face lit up at the thought of that scene.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, boy. You have been my only friend, always there for me. Don’t chase too many cats up there.”
Abigail smiled softly, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her face.
She rose and placed the gloves from her back pocket on her hands and went to work. She watched the butterflies as they gathered around the rose bush, paying no attention to her as she filled the hole with dirt.
A sound of a horn blast pulled Abigail out of her daze. She jerked her head to the right to see a car, a fast one, careening its way down her driveway. Whoever the driver was, they were in one hell of a hurry to see her, kicking up dust from the dirt road. As it pulled into view, she recognized the old white Buick from up the lane. It belonged to Marvel Hevel, the sweet older woman who lived a quarter mile up the lane.
The car stopped and a very handsome man stepped out from the driver’s side. He was calling her name.
“Are you Abigail?” the man shouted. All sense of propriety left her mind. For just a moment she took in the sight before her and enjoyed every inch of him.
“Yes, I’m Abigail, and you are?”
“Dylan, Marvel’s my grandmother, you have to help,” he called back to her. She shook herself loose from where she stood as he pulled her arm to usher her toward the car.
“What’s wrong...is she?” Abigail couldn’t bear to say the words that ran through her mind.
“I don’t know, but I need help to get her to the hospital. She has to be okay.” He spoke those words with such conviction, as if to birth them into existence. Sitting in the car he reached across for Abigail’s hand.
Dylan couldn’t recall the last time he held a woman’s hand, and it felt very nice. It was a simple gesture, but one which left Abigail with a tingling sensation that shot like lightening through her fingertips into her stomach. She squeezed back, hoping to keep her fear at bay. Little did she know that he was just as scared. His heart beat faster, fearing for the worst.
Why didn’t he force her to sell this place? There was no reason for a woman of her age to be living so far away from the city, alone. Damn, she was stubborn.
Dylan gained the much needed strength and comfort from Abigail’s touch, something about her helped to ground him. He braced himself to tell her what happened, if only to make certain Abigail was prepared for the worst.
“I don’t know what’s wrong. I tried to wake her up and she just won’t wake up.” His voice faded as the last word dropped off his tongue.
For Abigail, fear came back hard, pounding strong with each beat of her heart. This cannot be happening, not today. Marvel was a guest in her home after she moved in last year. In such a short time, she grew to love her neighbor and considered her family. Losing her too wasn’t an option, not today.
Dylan barely brought the car into park when Abigail jumped out the passenger side dashing up the front porch steps of his grandmother’s yellow ranch home. He hurried along merely steps behind. When she reached the door to Marvel’s bedroom, she paused. Moving Abigail aside, Dylan pushed the door open, prepared for what he would see.
He looked once, twice, then turned back to look at Abigail. The bed was not only empty, it had been made. All of the corners tucked firmly in place. It was the oddest thing either of them had seen.
“Well, at least we know she’s alive.” Abigail smiled. “I wonder where she had got to,” she said then started to laugh.
The sound of Abigail’s laugh was infectious. It took over the space and was full of pure joy. He could have stayed right there relishing in that sound.
There was little time for him to laugh, because he needed to have a stern discussion with his grandmother. This was just the thing that could happen with her living alone. Yes, he needed to make her see that she should sell the place and move closer to him.
Dylan went to the big window to take a look around. Amidst the tall stalks of corn, he noticed something out of place. It was an oversized straw hat that had a large feather on the side of it. He would recognize that hat anywhere—it was his grandmother.
He let out a deep breath unaware that he had been holding it. Once again, Abigail took off before him. He stood by the window and watched, as Abigail soon emerged from the house running into the field to meet his grandmother. Dylan saw it, the moment the two were locked in an embrace. Just the sight of them together made his heart swell. This woman truly loved his grandmother the way he did, but there was more.
There was a gentle nature about her that pulled him in. He’d felt it when he first laid eyes on her and she told him her name. Arm in arm the two walked back toward home.
Chapter Two
By the time Dylan collected himself, he expected them to be back inside the great room. Following the sound of laughter he headed to the door. Dylan stood watching as the two women sat on the big oak swing sipping on sweet tea and chatting away.
Opening the door, he stepped onto the porch to join them. They sat there in the heat of the midday sun. Every inch of his being wanted more. He wanted to know everything there was about this woman. He wished he had listened to his grandmother’s requests sooner to meet Abigail. Today Dylan felt happier than he had in a long time. Something in his gut reminded him about the importance of the simple pleasures of life. The pleasure of making memories and spending time in the company of a woman that was beautiful inside and out.
He was used to not having roots, but now after meeting Abiga
il and spending time with her spending time on the road didn’t have the same appeal. Maybe he needed to stop the path he was headed down, but it was too late.
Who was he kidding? He didn’t want to spend his life alone, but he didn’t believe in love. Until he met Abigail.
The sound of her laughter pulled him in and tugged on his heart.
Each of the women wore a smile so big. He noticed Abigail again, the way her whole face lit up when she smiled. She was beautiful.
He had to admit, the sight of the two of them together made him smile as well.
Slowly, he made his way toward them. “Grandmother, you scared me. I tried waking you up, and I thought the worst.” Abigail pressed a kiss to Marvel’s cheek and hugged her tightly. “I can’t lose you either, don’t ever scare me like that again.” She had known what grief was, and wasn’t ready to lose the one woman who became family to her.
“Oh Abigail I’m so thankful you let this meddlesome old woman into your life. I love you like you were my own granddaughter. I promise not to leave you alone,” Marvel spoke with a smile.
Embarrassed, Abigail didn’t know what to do. The tender motherly way Marvel spoke to her coupled with the fact that she just buried her longtime companion caused her to breakdown in sobs.
Marvel was the first to break the hug. She put her years of mothering skills to work, tenderly placing a hand to Abigail’s cheek to console her. “Dear girl, I’m all right.” Abigail looked into her eyes and nodded. “I’m glad that you both care so much about an old woman like me. What do you say we come in the house and have us a drink.”? As they walked through the flower-covered path, Marvel said, “So, I see you’ve met, Dylan, my grandson.”
“It was rushed,” Dylan said and then smooth as silk offered a solution. “But let me fix that. My name is Dylan Hevel, and you must be Abigail Love,” he said with a brilliant smile. His teeth were so perfect, as was the rest of him, that Abigail supposed he had to be a model of some sort.
“Yes, I’m Abigail. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extended her hand to shake his. Although they were previously introduced, she appreciated his humorous gesture. It meant touching his hand again, and she would because she was just being polite. When Dylan held her hand she felt it again, that spark. Goosebumps pricked at her skin and trailed up her arms and down her back. As he stared into her eyes she suddenly felt embarrassed by her appearance. She knew she had to be covered in spots of dirt, and her eyes must have been severely reddened by the tears she shed.
Once inside the home, Marvel gestured for Dylan and Abigail to sit on the loveseat as she took the chair opposite them. Dylan didn’t sit still, he moved his feet and jittered them about in the same fashion he had as a child. He was nervous. This delighted Marvel more than she could have imagined. All she needed now was to get them started in casual conversation. But how?
Marvel spoke up. “You look like you’ve been into it first thing this morning. You get an early start on your rose bushes?”
“No, ma’am I didn’t . . . Loki died last night. I buried him out back under the weeping cherry tree right as you pulled up.” She pointed in Dylan’s direction. Oh God, he looked at her with pity. Well, both of them actually did. She didn’t want it; what Abigail wanted was a change of subject.
She turned slightly so that her body was further away, but she was able to look directly at Dylan, “Where are you from?”
“I currently live in airports. I have an apartment in New Orleans that the company pays for. I see it so rarely that it feels like I’m on a vacation when it’s my home base.” Dylan took another long sip of his tea, allowing his gaze to drift over the edge of the cup in Abigail’s direction.
“I can tell from the accent that you aren’t from down here.” Who was he kidding, he knew she came from some town up north, but he wanted any excuse to have her full attention. He tried to genuinely engage her in conversation. He remembered the Wednesday call he received in August from his grandmother. She was so excited to tell him about the mysterious young woman from the north who was buying the Clemson house. Each week for the next two months their conversations were geared toward Abigail and all the things his grandmother was learning about her.
The comment caught Abigail off guard. She relaxed when she noted the friendly expression on his face. It wasn’t meant to make fun of her.
She smirked and gave him a taste of her sass. “I don’t have an accent—it’s called enunciation.” Abigail drug out the last syllable of the word for emphasis.
Dylan’s eyes were locked on all the features of Abigail’s face as she spoke, especially those lips. Next to her eyes, they were his favorite feature. Just the perfect shape for kissing, and other things. He wondered about how they tasted, how they would look when flushed and swollen from being kissed.
“Well, with a smart mouth like that I would guess you’re a Yankee then?”
With a smile and full of pride, she answered, “Yes, I am from a small town up north, but I didn’t know our country was still divided as north and south.” Abigail stood with one hand propped on her hip.
“Interesting.” He paused, just needing a moment to study her more. Abigail was certainly a curious woman. He liked the touch of sass she obviously had, and part of Dylan wondered what it would be like to kiss it right out of her.
“What brings you down here in the middle of nowhere Alabama?” Again, he already knew the answer, or the version he got from his grandmother. He was lucky, when his parents passed, he still had family. Dylan thought about the harsh way the cancer withered away his father’s strength. Then only months later, his mother’s heart gave out. Each of those losses hit him hard and tore him down to his core. He had his grandmother and her love to lean on. From what Abigail shared, when she lost her family in a tragic house fire, there was no one left for her. She found her way all on her own.
“I was out on a drive one day and saw there were a variety of places for sale. I fell in love with my house at first sight, and I like the fact that I’m not right on top of my neighbors. Although, if they were as wonderful as Marvel here, I wouldn’t mind one bit.”
“Oh, that is so sweet. Well, I love having you as a neighbor as well. We look out for one another and I like that.”
“What happened to you anyway this morning, Gram? I went to your room to wake you up and you didn’t move. You just laid there like a stone.”
“Well,” she says drawing the word out. “I don’t sleep well anymore. I thought it would be all right to take more than one of those pills the doc gave me for sleep. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, Gram, you gave me a scare, I drove straight to Abigail’s house.” Dylan didn’t even notice the moment when he reached over to touch her hand.
It didn’t feel awkward or imposing. Holding Abigail’s hand felt natural and put his mind at ease. With all of the hours he put into work and travel, there was little left over for relationships.
Love was not something in the cards for him. Love came with all sorts of rules and obligations that tied you up and bound you to another person. He remembered seeing how unhappy his parents were growing up. Always at one another’s throats about something. No, love was not something that he believed in or wanted for himself.
He took another sip of his tea, fully content to listen to the stories his grandmother shared making Abigail laugh. Soon he would be back on his way to Louisiana and he’d forget all about the beautiful brunette sitting beside him. The same brunette who was still holding his hand.
Marvel knew there was something between the two of them. She noticed right off the way Dylan seemed to gravitate toward Abigail. She needed to keep her around for the duration of Dylan’s visit. She knew how hard her grandson worked, and with all those hours and travel how would he ever meet someone.
In the short time Marvel spent with Abigail, she liked everything about her. Abigail was a loyal, hard working woman who needed some rays of happiness in her life.
“Abigail, what do you say you have dinner with us? It will be my way to apologize for giving you two such a scare earlier today.”
Before she could answer, Abigail looked down to notice her hand was still with Dylan’s. Casually, she pulled it back and placed it on her lap. “I thank you for the offer, but it has been a long, difficult day for me.”
“Well, I’m an old woman who refuses to take no for an answer. Besides, you need a pick me up after the day you’ve had.” Marvel said it with a smile on her face, but there was no mistaking she meant business.
Abigail knew better than to try to argue with Marvel. Besides, a dinner with a friend would be nice after the morning she had.
“Well, please excuse me a moment so that I can go back down the road to get cleaned up and I will be back for dinner. Can I bring anything, Marvel?” Abigail rose from her seat and headed back through the great room into the foyer. “Dylan.” Marvel called his name in that familiar tone she used when she made a request. “Why don’t you go ahead and give Abigail a ride back to her place, and as a matter of fact, I’m in need of a few things. Would you two mind running to get them for me while I work on dinner?” She stood with her hand in the middle of his back. Just the way she did when he was growing up.
“Yes ma’am. That is if Abigail doesn’t mind being my navigator.” He arched his brow in her direction and gave her a mischievous grin. If Abigail didn’t know any better she would have sworn that it was some sort of challenge. The grin said that he was goading her, so she responded with a look that let him know that she could hold her own.
“Sure,” Abigail nodded, what else could she do?
“Just give me a moment and I’ll pull my car around front.” Dylan rushed off to the garage. Normally, he didn’t care to drive his small sports car through the dirt roads and woody area of this backwoods town, but the thought of having Abigail in the seat beside him was enough to change his mind.
