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“Thank you for the bicycle. But who’s the lucky man?” I asked, taking a sip.
The recipe was deliciously sweet enough to cut through the dampness of the day but tart enough to taste refreshing. Izzy closed her eyes as she drank it, and my heart started to settle.
Grandma Millie looked mischievous. “Jackson Barry Locke.”
I almost spat out the lemonade and found myself choking on her words.
Izzy glanced at me. “You okay, Mom?”
I nodded, dabbing my eyes with my sleeve. “Jackson Locke is my age.”
I was certain this bypassed all cougar references and flew to new, unchartered territory.
“Psh.” Grandma Millie laughed. “NotyourJackson Locke. This is his great-uncle.”
Izzy glanced at me. “YourJackson Locke?”
My hands fluttered in the air. “I dated Jackson before your dad.”
I’d also met his great-uncle eons ago.
Izzy looked impressed. “The guy who stood you up?”
I was surprised I’d ever mentioned that part to Izzy.
Grandma Millie snickered, and I knew to be afraid of anything going on in her mind.
My daughter smirked. “So, the Locke men have a thing for the Bailey women.”
“We are Henry women,” I corrected.
“Speaking of Locke men, the other Jackson is back in town.” My grandma looked at me over her tipped glass.
“Is he taking care of his great uncle?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Jackson Senior doesn’t need anyone taking care of him. I would know.” Grandma Millie was incensed. “But his older brother does need a hand, and Jackson came back to help him out.”
“How convenient.” I smiled, seeing the sparkle in her eye. “What’s his name? The uncle?” I tried to shift the subject away from Jackson.
The last I’d heard, Jackson had gone on to some Ivy League school and played on the golf team just like he’d planned. After that, I never heard about him, mainly because I loved my life too much to care.
After all, he stood me up.
I looked over at Izzy, who was staring at a clump of green bananas.
It didn’t matter what Jackson had been up to all these years or who he’s married to now. What mattered was getting Izzy okay again. Getting me okay again.
“Carter Locke. He’s nearly ninety-eight, but he doesn’t look a day over eighty. All those men really weather well.”
Izzy wiggled her brows and lifted her gaze from the bananas. “I had no idea my great-grandma was such a cougar.”
“Grrrowl.” Grandma Millie wiggled her brows, and we all broke into laughter.
Trying to bring the conversation back to a reality I could handle, I took another sip of lemonade and let out a happy sigh. “So, this man of yours painted your shutters.”
Grandma Millie’s eyes sparkled as they connected with mine. A sweet-smelling breeze ran through the open kitchen door, and she shook her head. “No, actually, his great-nephew, Jackson, did the kind act. Jackson.”
Izzy snorted and shifted her gaze to mine. “YourJackson? The plot thickens.”
I playfully scowled at my daughter and felt an amazing connection zip between us.
Grandma Millie didn’t end it there. “Fair warning. There’s a pretty good chance you’re going to run into that man. He’s a social butterfly since he got to town, and all I had to do in return for the shutters was promise my lemonade on demand.” She winked at me. “So, he might stop by from time to time.”
I choked down my lemonade and suddenly knew I’d made a terrible mistake in coming back to Buttercup Lake.
