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He walks to the house while the girls drive their four-wheelers into the shed, and I look around bewildered.
It’s a shock to find out hiding Bruce isn’t the strangest thing here.
I can’t help but wonder what else is going on.
Despite everything I’ve seen today, it seems there’s a whole lot more to unravel about Grady McKnight.
6
Easy, Tiger (Grady)
That does it.
Trying to pretend like having a woman in my house is normal is enough to tip me over the edge.
No, fuck, this scenario is so completely not normal.
Neither is keeping Shere Khan happy and fed in the barn—or knowing that the choice I’d made last night might put all sorts of friends and family in danger.
Trying to keep my girls’ curiosity under wraps isn’t easy when it comes to anything, but this whole situation has them both asking a lot of questions.
Luckily, I keep them busy with chores, cleaning everything in our kitchen Willow didn’t get to. That keeps them distracted while she sneaks out to check on her beast again.
I have Aunt Faye to thank for their well-organized chore list on the fridge. It hasn’t changed much for years except a little rotation, plus adding new tasks for them as they’ve gotten older.
Alone, I might not have realized just how important chores are for developing responsibility.
Faye sure taught me plenty about parenting.
Later, when we’re all in the living room, gathered around the TV, my phone rings. As if my aunt’s ears are burning several states away, I see her name lit on the screen when I lift it off the coffee table.
I pick up the phone and step away from the teeny-bopper movie the girls picked out. While they’re watching the show, Willow runs a tiny comb through Avery’s hair, checking for bugs. She’d already checked Sawyer.
“Hello,” I say into the phone as I enter the small library that doubles as my office off the living room and close the door behind me.
“Grady, my dear, how are you holding up?” Aunt Faye starts. “I have a question...”
I can almost see the disappointment in her eyes just from the way she says my name.
She’s my ma’s sister, and they sound so much alike, at times her voice takes me back decades. Especially the way she can reprimand me with a single word in just the right tone.
“Anything. Shoot,” I tell her.
“I know the girls are coming home from camp tomorrow so I called Linda. She said that apparently you declined her help?” Faye asks.
Shit.
Busted.
But can you blame a man when taking favors from Linda Wood means inviting her to dry hump my goddamn leg?
“You’re right, I did. Everything’s under control, Aunt—”
“Grady!” she says sternly, cutting me off. “You know you can’t take care of them all summer by yourself. Linda works at the school, so she has summers off. It was the perfect solution. Why would you ever say no?”
My jaw pinches shut.
Because I don’t want any shit with that woman or any woman.
Because the juice is so not worth the squeeze, I’d rather stick with my hand for life.
Because I’d rather stay a sexless, overgrown monk than play with a stick of human dynamite.
Yeah. I’m only exaggerating a little.
If I had a list of Hell Noes, Linda Wood would be a solid second. Right after Carolina Dibs, the town’s resident thief and queen of shady hookups.
And at least with Carolina, you know there are a dozen ways you might get fucked over. Linda hasn’t even pretended to hide the fact that she’s on the hunt for a new husband.
I don’t tell Faye any of that, of course.
“How’s Gennie doing?” I try changing the subject.
I think it works, but I’m not exactly happy about it. She lets out a pitiful sigh.
“Not good, dear. She doesn’t have much time. The cancer’s everywhere.”
“Damn, I’m so sorry. I’m glad you’re there with her,” I offer, sincere as ever.
Gennie was a schoolyard friend of Aunt Faye’s and they’d stayed close for over sixty years. They’re as tight as family, which is a good thing because Gennie doesn’t have much. Her husband died years ago. Long before Brittany had.
Just like me, Gennie only has daughters, but they haven’t been the closest.
“Listen, if there’s anything I can do, you tell me,” I say.
“You’re sweet, but you already know the one thing I’ll ask,” Aunt Faye says. “Focus on you and the girls. That’s why I arranged for Linda to help out. Her daughter’s the same age as the twins, so they’d have someone to play with while she’s there. You can’t take care of them and run the bar at the same time.”
“I’ve taken a few days off. We’ll be fine,” I insist.
“A few...days? Did I hear you right?” Her voice bristles with surprise, knowing how rare it is for me to take time off. “Don’t tell me it’s because of me?”
