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My eyes are glued on the back of Spencer’s head as he jogs away, my pulse picking up speed once he’s out of sight. On a deep inhale, I move my focus to the water droplets rolling down the window, letting the sound of the rain beating down on his truck calm me.
“He’s crazy about you, you know.” My stare slides to Mrs. Duncan, and she turns to peer at me over the front seat, the leather making a squeaking sound as she readjusts herself.
Spencer’s grandmother has his eyes—or, rather, he has hers. Those same prominent chocolate eyes that demand your attention. Her hair isn’t nearly as dark as his but given that she still has some color to it, I’m guessing it once was. Even at her age, her beauty shines through. She obviously still takes pride in looking her best. Her short hair perfectly curled, her blouse freshly pressed, pearls around her neck. I can only imagine the kind of knockout she must’ve been in her heyday.
My cheeks heat as I smile and shake my head. Spencer and I explained to his grandmother several times that I’m not Cat, but from what I’m gathering, she isn’t completely mentally sound. I’ll admit, seeing the way Spencer is with his grandmother has only added to his sex appeal. She doesn’t seem to be all that easy to handle, but he hasn’t shown even the slightest amount of annoyance toward her.
Now, though, he’s gone inside Walgreens to pick up her medication, leaving me to deal with her on my own.
“Oh no, Mrs. Duncan, I’m not—”
“I’ve already told you, call me Darla,” she scolds. “And I know exactly who you are.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “I’m not as absentminded as my grandson seems to think. I only let him go on believing it so he’ll take care of all my errands for me.”
Laughing, I shake my head. I think I might love this woman. “But I’m not his girlfriend.”
“You should be,” she says, matter of fact.
My chest burns from the lack of air, and I wonder what he told her about us. Does she know about our one night together?
Clearing my throat, I shake my head again. “He’s dating my best friend. They’re actually pretty perfect for each other.”
“No, no…” She waves her hand and sighs. “I know it may seem that way on paper, but just because two people are alike, or their relationship goes smoothly, doesn’t mean they’re right for each other. I’ve never been able to make my grandson understand love is meant to be messy and complicated. If you don’t have to fight for it, how can you ever be sure it’s really what you want?”
She has a point. That makes total sense—even to me.
“My grandson hasn’t told you what happened to his parents, has he?”
My gut twists with worry, afraid she’s about to drop some heavy shit on me, personal information I probably shouldn’t be hearing. “No, but—”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Darla says, cutting me off before I can protest. “They’ve been lost to us for nearly twenty-five years, and he still can’t talk about it.”
My breath stills as I process what she said.
Lost.
If Spencer’s parents died twenty-five years ago, that means he was still a young boy. Far too young to be without his parents. It also explains why I’d never seen any recent pictures of them in his house.
Darla’s eyes never leave me, but there’s a vacancy about them, as if her memories are playing out in front of her. “Spencer’s father—my son—was a passionate man. Most artists are, and Eddy was a brilliant musician. I think his thirst for life was part of the reason Candice fell in love with him, but it was also the source of their problems. My son and daughter-in-law argued a lot, but it wasn’t because of a lack of love. They cared deeply for each other, which is something I can’t seem to make Spencer understand. He only remembers the bad moments, the screaming matches followed by the silence.” She pauses to take a deep breath as she digs a tissue from her pocket, giving me a sad smile before blotting the tip of her nose with it.
“I believe their relationship distorted his view of love, what it should and shouldn’t be. You see, the night his father died, Eddy and Candice had been fighting. Who’s to say what it was even about. Probably something to do with a gig she didn’t want him to take. Eddy was gone a lot, and Candice was admittedly jealous of his music. Either way, he’d broken one of my cardinal rules that night and left the house angry. When he finally came to his senses and stopped at a store to get Candice some apology flowers, he walked in on a robbery in progress and was killed.”
I gasp, tears pricking my eyes.
“Candice didn’t handle Eddy’s death well. She blamed herself, turning to booze and antidepressants to cope with her pain. That’s what ultimately ended her life as well, forcing Spencer to grow up too quickly.”
My eyes blink rapidly in an effort to dry my tears before they fall, my stomach sours with thoughts of Spencer as a little boy having just lost both his parents.
“My point in telling you all of this, dear girl, is so you’ll understand why I think Cat is so wrong for my Spencer. He’s always been searching for an easy love, but that doesn’t exist. The moment he told me about you, I knew you were the one, and I think he did too. I’m not entirely sure how he ended up with Cat, but she’s not the one who lights a fire in him. She’s not the one he wanted to fight for. The two of you belong together.”
I’m still staring at her, speechless with my mouth agape, when Spencer opens the driver’s side door and hops inside. Darla winks before turning back around in her seat, and I feel my face heat as Spencer looks back at me.
He raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay in here?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to smile as I slowly nod.
“Wonderful,” Darla says. “Your love and I were having a little girl talk.”
Spencer sighs and mouths an apology before turning around to start the truck. I remain frozen, Darla’s words echoing in my head.
