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“Lucky and cursed in equal measure.”
“Just lucky.” Erin knew all too well what it was like living alone and lonely in the frigid days of winter. “Take my word for it.”
Mrs. Wilson poked her head out of the front door. “Erin, honey. Fluffy looks cold.”
“Coming,” Erin said to Mrs. Wilson and made her way up the driveway toward the house. “I’ve got to go,” she said to her grandmother.
“Has that old June Wilson got you walking her mutt around the block because of a little snow on the ground?”
Erin fought to keep the frustration from her voice. “Fluffy is a purebred, Gram, and I enjoy helping our neighbors. With her arthritis acting up, it’s not safe for Mrs. Wilson to navigate the slick streets.”
“You keep telling yourself that and those old coots will be so busy taking advantage of your kind heart that you won’t have time to do your job.”
“I’ve got plenty of time to do my job. Besides, I need a break from the computer every now and again. If I can help a friend by walking her dog around the block, why not be a good neighbor?”
“Fine, but don’t blame me if you get fired.”
“I work for myself, Gram.” She’d explained her online graphic design job to her grandmother a hundred times or more. “I’m not going to get fired.”
“Who’s getting fired?” Mrs. Wilson asked as Erin handed over Fluffy’s leash.
“No one, Mrs. Wilson. No one’s getting fired.”
“Oh. Okay, dear.” She pulled her cable-knit sweater tight around her neck. “Thank you for walking Fluffy.”
“I’m happy to help.”
“You’re an angel sent from heaven.” Mrs. Wilson blew her a kiss and closed the door against the gust of cold air.
“Like I said,” Gram continued, “she’s taking advantage. She convinced you she can’t walk her dog around the block even though she was crowned pickleball champion last year.”
“It’s cold and the sidewalks are icy.”
Not that Gram would know. She’d been touring Central America for over two months with her cyber-dating gentleman friend from Indiana. When Erin had dropped Gram at the Knoxville airport in early October, the leaves were still on the trees and gearing up for their epic explosion of color. Winter had been nothing more than a quiet whisper on the twilight breeze.
“Well, you enjoy the cold air and the slick roads. I’ve got a hot date waiting for me to go ziplining in the jungle.”
Ziplining in the jungle? Erin bit her tongue to stop the lecture from leaping past her lips. The last time she’d tried to warn Gram about taking unnecessary risks during her vacations, she’d received a memorable tongue lashing in response where she was told to both mind her business and live a little. She’d taken the message to heart, even though it went against every instinct in her body.
The thought of losing her precious Gram in a pointless accident on a fool’s errand to relive her youth was unimaginable. Erin’s workaholic parents couldn’t be bothered, so Erin had given up her no-so-great life in Atlanta to move to Cherry Creek when Gram needed help while her broken ankle healed. Getting to live with her only living grandparent, who’d always been more legend than reality, was one of the best things that had ever happened to Erin. Not only had she found a family member who loved and appreciated her for the free-spirited woman she was and not the robot her powerhouse parents wanted her to become, but she’d found an entire neighborhood of people who loved and accepted her, too.
“How is Mr. Fellows?” Erin asked about Gram’s internet friend. “I hope you two are behaving yourselves.”
Gram let out a cackling belly laugh, mocking Erin’s prim tone. “Sweetheart, we’re having the time of our lives. I’ll send you a picture with the monkeys.”
Gram hung up and left Erin shaking her head at the phone. “Monkeys? For the love ...”
ChapterTwo
Brock Bartlett lookedaround the single-story home he’d recently purchased for his grandfather in the active adult community of Cherry Creek Reserve, inspecting the renovations completed according to his scrupulous specifications. His Nashville decorator had done a nice job coordinating the backsplash, granite countertops, and neutral but masculine interior color to change the decidedly feminine house into a home his grandfather would be proud to call his own.
Brock had to admit the place looked better than expected. When his grandfather expressed an interest in returning to his childhood hometown of Cherry Creek, Tennessee, Brock had gotten busy looking online for the perfect location. The community of Cherry Creek Reserve checked all his boxes. With its one story, open concept floor plans and amenities that rivaled Brock’s downtown Nashville condo, CCR provided the perfect low-maintenance lifestyle his grandfather had more than earned. As soon as a house hit the market, Brock had bought it, sight unseen.
He’d had a bear of a time finding a reliable contractor willing to start immediately in the small mountain town. With the Christmas holidays quickly approaching, Brock heard every excuse in the book.
“I got family coming into town.”Who cares?
“My crew is bare boned over Christmas.”Sounds like a management problem.
