Once Wren had gone back inside and closed the door against the cold, neither of them moved right away.
“You just do what’s right for you, son. If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be what’s right for both of you.”
Grant chuckled. “That’s very cryptic of you.”
“You guys didn’t come with an instruction book. I have to make this stuff up on the fly.”
“You wouldn’t have read it, anyway.”
“True.” His dad stood and stretched his back. “But your mother would have and if I screwed up too badly, she’d slap me upside the head with it.”
Grant laughed at the imagery, though his mother had never whacked him with a spatula or—as far as he knew—cuffed his father with a book. But she did like to wave things around when she got heated.
You just do what’s right for you, son. If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be what’s right for both of you. Cryptic though it might be, Grant turned his father’s advice over in his mind, hoping he was right.
* * *
After dinner, they gathered in the family room and the guys put a game on the television, but kept the volume low. The conversation was friendly and there was a lot of laughter thanks to Jill spilling some funny stories from Grant’s childhood. They asked Wren about her work and she talked about the salon and the market.
“You know,” Jill said after a long pause, “I know I asked you about your family, but I can’t remember what you said. I feel awful.”
“Please don’t.” Wren’s cheeks felt hot and she was thankful when Grant reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know Grant told you about my brother and he was all the family I had left, so I probably distracted you somehow and changed the subject before you realized I didn’t answer the question. I was good at that, and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“Well, I am. But my dad left when I was very little and my mother died when I was in high school, so I don’t have any family for you guys to meet.”
To her credit, Jill didn’t overdo the sympathy. She gave Wren a warm smile. “Then I’m very glad you found Grant because lord knows, he comes with a big circle of friends and family. He brought them all up to go four-wheeling one weekend a couple of years back and, I swear, I almost went and stayed at a hotel.”
Wren laughed, relieved at the conversational redirection. “When I first met them, I didn’t think I’d ever remember all their names. I was tempted to sneak pictures of them and write their names on them.”
“You guys should come down and visit again soon,” Grant said. “It’s been a while.”
“Your mother wants to see those big sailing ships when they come in the harbor,” Don said. “See if you can find out when they’re doing that and we’ll figure something out.”
That turned the conversation to other things to do while visiting Boston, and Wren and Jill talked about the things they both wanted to see. Neither of the guys had much interest in the museums, so Jill seemed thrilled when Wren offered to see them with her.
The visit was going a lot better than she’d dared hope, even though she knew Jill was still holding back a little, as if she was using company manners. When they’d met in the past, there had been a warmth there that wasn’t quite as warm now.
It didn’t take long before Don nodded off in his recliner which, judging by the affection in the glance and eyeroll Jill gave him, was a common occurrence. And a few minutes later, Wren heard Grant’s snores join his dad’s.
“When he sent me a text telling me you guys would be later in the day,” his mom said softly, “he just said it had been a long night and he had to take a nap.”
“It was a fire and Danny Walsh almost got hurt, and Grant said when things like that happen, it’s hard to sleep when they get back.”
Jill shook her head. “I did everything I could to talk that boy out of being a firefighter.”
“I worry about him a lot,” Wren confessed. “But it might be easier for me because I’m surrounded by the people he fights fires with and the people who worry about them, so it’s just the way we live our lives, I guess. We worry, but we also know they’re always as safe as they can be because they’re a family, too. I can’t really imagine him doing anything else.”
“Me, either. It’s hard to picture him wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk like his brother does, and they’re both doing jobs that make them happy, which is I guess the best a mother could ask for.” She chuckled, and neither man even stirred. “Even though their happiness doesn’t keep me from worrying about them.”
Wren turned her head to look at Grant, who had his arms crossed and would have looked like he was watching the game, if not for his closed eyes and the snoring. Don was in practically the same position in his chair, and she noted how much they looked alike, especially in profile.
As if he could sense her staring, Grant opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. His expression softened and he gave her a sleepy smile. “I’m just resting my eyes.”
“Like father, like son,” Jill muttered, and Wren laughed.
She was aware of how carefully they skirted any discussion of the fire or the months she was away. As much as she enjoyed the evening, the avoidance felt like an elephant in the room to her and it was a relief when the signals were given that it was time to head to bed. And she wasn’t surprised when Grant walked her to her room when it was time to turn in. He’d been on his best behavior in front of his mom, but he was going to want a kiss goodnight.
