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Bobbi parked in the driveway of the Barker family home at exactly nine o’clock in the evening. Dusk was settled in, throwing long shadows by the front porch, and the scent of fresh-mowed grass was in the air. The flower beds overflowed with colorful petunias and geraniums, as did the baskets that hung from the porch. The shrubs by the garage needed trimming, and she made a mental note to call Logan and see if he could get the job done. As she slid from rental, she heard kids down the street shouting as they played hide-and-seek between the houses, and in the distance, an acoustic guitar. She’d barely taken two steps when her grandfather, Herschel, ambled onto the porch. He scratched the thick white hair beneath his ball cap and cracked a smile.
“Well, if it isn’t my twin come home to me early.”
She smiled and ran up the steps to give him a hug. Her entire life in this town, she’d been defined as “one of those Barker triplets” and yet her grandfather had always called them his twins. No one knew why, and no one dared ever to correct the man. Herschel was the beating heart that kept the Barker family going, and she didn’t realize how much she’d missed him until she felt his cheek next to hers. Out of nowhere, tears sprang to her eyes, and she swiped at them, gingerly stepping away.
“Sorry, Gramps. I’m just being silly.”
“Bah. Ain’t nothing wrong with a tear every now and then. You want some lemonade? Mrs. Davis dropped off some fresh squeezed not but an hour ago.”
Bobbi hid a smile. Mrs. Davis had been doing that an awful lot lately. She’d been widowed as long as Bobbi could remember, and had always been sweet on her gramps.
“I’ll grab us each a glass,” she said.
“No, you won’t. You sit your butt in that big chair you like so much, and I’ll go and get us some.” His looked at her for a second longer. “You look different.”
He disappeared inside, and, tired, she sank onto the big rattan chair with the faded orange-and-yellow seat pillow. It had seen better days, that’s for sure, but every time she or one of her sisters talked about updating the porch furniture, Gramps always shot them down. Told them you didn’t throw things away just ’cause they weren’t pretty enough anymore. She fingered a frayed edge.
As usual, Gramps was right.
“Here you go.” Gramps set down a tall, frosty glass on the table beside her and took the rocker on the other side. “Now,” he said, after taking a sip and putting down his glass. “You going to tell me what’s changed? Why’re you back? And why isn’t Shane with you?”
Wow. She thought she’d have at least a couple more minutes before facing a barrage of questions, but then she’d arrived unexpectedly, so she couldn’t blame Gramps for wondering.
She also couldn’t lie to him.
“I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.”
“You telling me that you came all the way back from Louisiana for a doctor’s appointment? You can reschedule them, girlie.” He was teasing, it was in his tone, but she wasn’t fooled. His eyes were sharp and boy, were they looking.
“I made the appointment yesterday.”
“Did you, now.” His rocking increased a bit as he looked out over the colorful gardens. “Everything okay? You’re not…” He cleared
his throat roughly. “You’re not sick, are you?” He kept his face averted as if afraid of bad news. Bobbi knew that her father’s death several years ago weighed heavy, and that her mother, who’d died young, was never far from his mind.
“As far as I know, I’m good. I just…” She blew out a long breath. God, she’d hoped not to have this conversation until after her doctor’s appointment. “I might be pregnant.”
Her gramps yanked his head around so quickly, she was sure the old man saw stars. A smile broke wide open on his face. “Is that so?” But it quickly faded, and he settled back in his chair. “Now I know I shouldn’t be asking this, and Lord knows it’s none of my business and all, but is…” His cheeks actually got pink, and Bobbi thought Herschel looked adorable.
“Well, is it Shane’s?”
“What?” Eyes wide, she sat up straight. His adorable ranking just went from ten to below zero. “Why would you ask something like that?” She frowned and looked him straight in the eye. “What have you heard? Who’s been spreading nasty rumors? Was it Janice Nelson?” Furious, she gulped her lemonade and nearly choked on the stuff. “She saw me having lunch with an old client, Ben Harper, last month, and I could tell from the look in her eye she had the wrong idea.” She knew how the rumor mill worked in a town this size. She’d been separated from Shane for three months, and she knew she and Shane were a hot topic of conversation.
“Don’t get all hot under the collar. I ain’t heard nothing. I’m just wondering on my own account is all.”
His blush deepened. “And now I guess I feel like an idiot for asking.”
Bobbi sighed and sank back into her chair. “It’s okay, Gramps. It makes sense that you’d wonder, but in answer to your question, yes, it’s Shane’s, and no one knows yet.” She looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Not even Shane, so please promise me you won’t say a word to Billie or Betty.” Her eyebrow shot up higher. “Not even in your special little group chat you’ve got going on. Jesus, since when do you know how to text?”
“Mrs. Davis taught me.”
“I bet she did,” Bobbi retorted.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“I won’t say a word until you give me the say-so.” He cleared his throat once more. “I hear Shane’s down south too.”
