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“I was happy to help. I’m glad she’s okay.”
The man shifted his stance. “And what about you? Are you okay?”
She’d almost forgotten that he’d left a few messages for her.
“Tanner tells me there’s gossip about you and Landon online, and my staff tells me your bonbon consumption has increased exponentially.”
She exhaled an audible breath like her body desperately needed to release a boatload of pent-up energy. “My life is a dumpster fire, Mr. Sweet.” She couldn’t lie, and she didn’t want to sugar-coat the truth—not after witnessing such vulnerability from Schuman and his wife.
“Will I see you and Landon for the third challenge?” he asked. “Will you and Landon be competing together?”
The contest.
With all the craziness, she’d nearly forgotten they had one challenge left—and it was only a few days away. Not to mention, she needed to win the prize money to pay off Babs’ place.
“I don’t know what’s in store for Landon and me.”
Again, she couldn’t lie.
It was more than hope, but she couldn’t let her emotions get the best of her.
“Love has its ups and downs,” Schuman said gently. “It reveals your greatest strengths and your most glaring faults. The trick to making it is simple yet complex.”
“I’d love to know the trick,” she replied through a teary chuckle.
“Vulnerability,” he said gently. “You must be willing to risk it all while knowing there will be wins, and there will be losses, but you choose to walk that road together. You choose honesty and optimism over fear and regret.” Schuman patted her shoulder. “And Mary Jane was right, by the way.”
She cocked her head to the side. “What was she right about?”
“Your grandfather. He’d want you to be true to yourself.”
If something isn’t working, change the melody but keep making music.
The man’s words extended far beyond crafting a song.
“He would,” she agreed and glanced at the business card cradled in her hand.
“Mr. Sweet?” a nurse called from the entrance, puncturing their moment. “Do you have a second to chat?”
She shared one last look with the man. He nodded once, bidding her a silent goodbye, before heading inside.
She waved to her girls.
“Swings?” Charlotte asked.
“That’s where I left the bonbons,” Libby replied.
Too bad they didn’t have anything stronger. Mr. Sweet had dropped quite the life lesson in her lap. She could sure go for a pitcher of margaritas.
“Swings it is,” she replied, and the foursome returned to the playground.
She stared at the business card.
“What’s kept you from calling, H?” Penny asked as their footsteps cut a path through the field that separated the assisted living center from the elementary school’s property.
Mr. Sweet had mentioned it.
Fear.
