Page 52 of Strung Along
He places a kiss on Grandma’s cheek as he passes her, leaving us alone in the foyer. My heart grows heavy at the soft gleam in her eyes.
“Give him time,” she tells me.
“How much time? I don’t have much left here.”
She considers that and places a steady hand on my shoulder, looking up at me. “Maybe that is something you have to take into consideration, then. If things haven’t turned around by the end of your time here, will you be okay with leaving things unsettled?”
“I’ve already been here longer than I should have.”
“And while I’m grateful for every moment I get to have you back, I’ll be honest and say that I want it to be longer. I’ll always want more time with you. It makes me sad to see you so at odds with your grandfather, but I’ll always urge you to do what will make you happy, my love. If that means you going back to Nashville, then I’ll understand. However, I will also want you to stay.”
I exhale and wrap my arms around her small frame in a tight hug. She sets her cheek against my chest and sniffles.
“This is dirty work, Grandma,” I scold teasingly. “It’ll take more than a hug and a sniffle to convince me to stay.”
She laughs, and some of my tension drains. “Are you finally going to tell me why you’ve been sneaking off every day like a naughty teenager?”
Pulling back, I set my hat back on my head and use the brim to avoid looking at her intense stare. Like a beast on the prowl, this one.
“Not yet.”
“Fine, don’t tell me. But a word of advice: maybe resist carrying the smell of her perfume into the house if you want to keep me from asking,” she warns slyly. The moment I look at her with wide eyes, she knows she’s trapped me. “Go wash up. You’re helping me set the table tonight.”
With two pats to my cheek, she spins and goes back to the kitchen. I pinch the collar of my jacket and lift it to my nose, breathing in the mix of lavender and coconut that I’ve quickly come to recognize as Anna. The scent has begun to linger in my truck and, now, my clothes.
I’m content to let it.
21
ANNALISE
Bo: Good morning. Pineapple on pizza . . . yes or no?
Me: On. Always on.
Bo: Good. Same here.
Bo: What are three things you would want with you on a deserted island?
Me: Why am I going to a deserted island?
Bo: Your plane went down.
Me: Oh, so this is an in-a-perfect-world scenario?
Bo: Yes. Pretend you had time to pull your suitcase down and grab three things before nearly dying in the crash.
Me: Alright. Since my options would be fairly limited, I’d say mouthwash, a second pair of underwear, and a knife I’d steal from wherever the flight attendants store the knives.
Bo: What planes have you been on before where the attendants carry knives?
Me: You’re telling me there aren’t steak knives hidden somewhere for the rich people in first class to eat their steak?
Bo: Have you ever flown first class?
Me: Obviously not.
Bo: I’ve never been served a steak.