Page 63

I hated going into the coop for eggs. No matter how I sweet-talked the chickens, they didn’t like me, and my ankles always got a few pecks before I escaped. But by some miracle, Marie Curie, Sojourner Truth, Queen Victoria, and Joan of Arc all let me check the nests without harming me, while Amelia Earhart watched from the corner. Granddad never wanted chickens, but Nana insisted, and once she named them all after notable women from history, they preferred her to any other guest in their coop.

Go figure.

The small wind chimes tinkled behind me as I entered the kitchen. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks. And how were my girls this morning?” Nana asked.

I filled up a cup of water from the sink. “Fine. No fussing when I went in there either.”

“Is that so?” She cracked the eggs into a large bowl. “Maybe they’re getting soft in their old age, like me.”

I laughed. “Maybe.”

Nana reached for the wire whisk behind me but stopped and stared at her hands. They both trembled.

“Nana,” I said, taking them in my own. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Just a little shaky this morning.”

“What’s Lucille say?” I motioned to her insulin pump.

“She’s been quiet lately, now that I think about it. Maybe I should check?”

I helped her hold up her shirt while she pulled the pump out of the band around her waist. “Huh. Battery’s gettin’ low again. That’s the second time in a few months this has happened.” She pointed to the junk drawer by the fridge. “Grab me a double-A from there, will ya?”

After replacing the battery, I convinced her to sit down and let me cook the eggs while she walked me through the process. My stomach growled. The biscuits dinged in the oven a moment before the eggs were ready.

I refilled her orange juice before pouring myself a cup of coffee and sitting across from her. My entire body relaxed with the first forkful of eggs. I should’ve put a little more salt and pepper on them, but damn. These were insanely good.

“Nothin’ beats fresh eggs,” Nana said with a wink.

You got that right.

“Heard from Ben yet?” she asked over her juice.

The eggs turned chalky in my mouth. “No.”

Nana frowned. “Need to talk about it?”

Yes. “No.” I pushed around the food on my plate.

“I’m sure y’all will fix this. You’re too young to burn bridges.”

And yet, here I was playing with fire, thinking about when I could be alone with Eliza again. That definitely wouldn’t help any bridges between Ben and me.

“When was the last time you spoke to your mom?” she asked.

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“Any news about your dad?”

A cold numbness spread across my chest. “No.”

Nana reached across the table and placed her warm hand on mine. “Don’t you worry a bit about it. Your daddy is as strong as an ox. We’ll hear something soon.”

I just hoped when we did, it would be good news.

Later that afternoon, the team ran foul poles six times before stretching. Foul poles were typical in practice, but today, in the humidity, it was hard as hell. Ben wasn’t there. Brett said Ben had left in the middle of the night.