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“Ew, what about the vacuum cleaner and the—”
“Hello?” Mama said, struggling to get in the door with her arms full of groceries.
We moved in unison to help, but Grant got to her first.
“Let me help you with that, Mrs. Blum,” he said.
Mama’s smiling face was redder than an apple as she handed them over. “Well, hello there, Mr. Stone.”
“Please, call me Grant.” He moved to the counter next to the refrigerator to set down his haul. “Are the rest in your truck?”
“Sure are, in the back seat.”
He nodded, gave me the most discreet wink, and headed outside.
“So it’s true,” Mama whispered, rushing me.
“How did you know?”
She waved a hand. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Iris Jo. Marjorie saw you walkin’ to your truck this morning with your hair all ratted, wearing your clothes from last night. You know the first thing she did was call the phone tree.”
I realized then that maybe I did give an eensy-weensy shit about my reputation and wished I’d been more careful.
“So did he say he didn’t want the farm anymore?” she asked.
“No.”
She blinked. “Then why in the world would you spend the night with him?”
“Do you think I’d believe him if he said he was giving up on the farm?”
“I suppose not, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know, Mama,” I huffed, unable to find the words myself. “We … well, I think we became friends somewhere along the line, and last night, he made some good points. He’s leaving. I don’t want anything serious.” I paused. “Okay, when I say it out loud, it does sound stupid. But I swear, I’ve got it under control. In fact, maybe I can convince him to quit working for people who are going to put polar bears in the obituaries. Or at least question his morals.”
She gave me a look. “Honey, he really does look good in those jeans, but you are smarter than this.”
“I’d never get serious with a guy like him, Mama. Just trust me—”
The door opened, and in he walked with his arms full. The four of us met him in the middle of the kitchen to help him, but I hung back so they were occupied.
“Let me help you with the rest,” I offered.
Grant’s eyes shifted to my wary family, then back to me. “Sure.”
When the door was closed behind me, I let out a mighty sigh.
“That bad?” he asked.
“It’s just going to take some explaining. We hadn’t told Mama this morning. Figures she’d hear about it at the grocery store.”
When we reached the truck, he stopped on the inside of the open door and pulled me into him.
“She doesn’t trust me.”
“Should she?”
“You do.”
“Against my better judgment, I do. A little.”
“Then I’ll convince them, too.”
“Think you’re up to the challenge?” I asked.
And with smiling lips close to mine, he answered, “I was born for it.”
18
Here, Kitty, Kitty
GRANT
Jo sang along to the radio from my passenger seat, the windows down and her hair flying as we made our way into town a week later.
And what a week it’d been.
When I wasn’t with Jo, I was running around town, working on deals with the farms on my docket, besides the Blums, but I’d made no ground with any of them. One of the farm owners was in bad health and had recently been admitted into the hospital. His son was circling like a vulture, even going so far as to reach out to me for dinner to probe me for numbers, should his father die. A few weeks ago, I would have only seen it as good fortune. But thanks to a newly found conscience, the exchange left me feeling unclean. I sent a Texas-sized gift basket to the hospital and hoped the son wouldn’t get any of the Moose Munch.
I’d been summoned to Austin a couple times by my father, but I hadn’t seen him in Lindenbach since the day he arrived, which was almost worse. I’d spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what he was going to pull and how it would hurt, so much that it bordered on paranoia. But I kept telling myself it was a good thing. Maybe he’d left me to my own devices as a sign of faith. Maybe he’d let me do my thing, his appearance strictly an act of observance.
I only wished I didn’t know better. And that I’d made more progress.
But every night, Jo was in my bed. Every day, she was in my thoughts. I’d begun to gently plant those seeds regarding her rights, though thus far, we’d never made it past joking. In fact, it’d become the joke, since it took a dangerous thing between us and made it small. Better than ignoring it, I figured, assuming she felt the same.
We were on our way to an event downtown for Glow Up, Lindenbach. The Blum sisters had launched a whole campaign, were in the process of planning a fundraiser dinner, had shirts and signs and bumper stickers printed up, and had gotten together with one of the local construction companies to start revamping Main Street. The money wasn’t there yet, but it was imminent, and today was the first collection.
