He took a sip of his tea. “Rusty tells me you’re helpin’ him find a new place. As you can see, this one needs a little sprucin’ up.”
“It’s cute, though. I love the vintage vibe.”
Senior smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to update it,” he said. “I built this house in seventy-one, right after Judy and I got married. She decorated it herself.” He touched the glass of tea in front of him. “Shortly after we moved in, she found these at an estate sale. Haven’t used them since she passed. Until today.”
Harper’s heart squeezed. “I can tell you loved her very much.”
“I did.” Senior cleared his throat. “She was the bestwife a man could have, and a wonderful mother and grandmother.” A shadow passed over his face. “Our son Junior was a free spirit, and we learned the hard way he was going to do his own thing. But gettin’ the chance to raise Rusty and Amber . . . Well, that was a blessin’ indeed.” He looked at Harper. “Family. Gotta love them, but they sure can be messy.”
“Yes, they can.” She took a sip of the tea, pushing the quick thought about her troubled parents to the side. “Delicious. Did you make this?”
“Naw. Lipton did.” He grinned and snuck an Oreo off the plate as Rusty walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, Harper,” he said, his damp hair slicked back from his forehead.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m late. It, uh, took longer for me to get ready than I thought.” No need to admit she’d done a little work on her day off.
“It’s all right. Runnin’ a little behind myself.” He glanced at his grandfather. “Oreos, Senior? Really?”
“You said to fix her a snack.”
“I meant the coffee cake I picked up on the way home.” Rusty turned to Harper, and the top of his cheeks that weren’t covered in red hair turned rosy. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m not. I love Oreos.” She twisted one apart and licked the cream filling.
Rusty’s eyes widened, then he turned away. “Uh...”
“Uh, what, Rusty?” Senior asked, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
“Have you seen my shoes?” His gaze dashed around thekitchen as if he was going to find them in the sink, refrigerator, or stove.
Harper bit into the cookie and glanced down at his bare feet. They looked nice, with neatly trimmed nails.
“Which ones?” Senior asked.
“Sneakers.”
Senior shook his head. “How should I know where your shoes are?”
Rusty rolled his eyes. “Then why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’ll be right back, Harper.”
After he left the room, Senior chuckled. “My boy’s sweet on you, MissHarper.”
Harper shook her head. To her surprise, her face heated. She focused on the half-eaten Oreo. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re just sayin’ that ’cause you’re used to guys payin’ attention to ya, a pretty girl like yourself. Reckon it can be hard to tell when the interest is real or not.”
She started to deny his words, but they hit close to the truth.
“My Judy was a stunner,” he said, then tapped one finger against the table. “And don’t think for a minute I didn’t notice how she grabbed the fellas’ attention in her younger days. She grabbed mine right off the bat.”
“Did that make you jealous?” She remembered Jack’s reactions when men noticed her. “When they paid attention to her like that?”
“Naw. Judy never gave me no reason not to trust her, and she was the only woman for me. I wasn’t about to let that bitter weed infest our marriage.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said. She thought about her parents again. What had caused their marriage to go off the rails? She knew her mother had been unhappy, even though she tried to hide it—and she hid it well because her father never seemed to notice. Was that why Madge wanted a divorce? She was tired of being ignored? But that didn’t explain the past two years, when Don had been overly attentive.
Not your business, remember?
