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“I've always said that the people make the place.” Griffin's mom puts her hand on Griffin's arm, and he gets redder. I struggle to keep my smile from widening.
“Mom,” he says. “It's not just me. Everyone who works here is a part of it.”
“I can see that,” Griffin's mom says knowingly, and I wonder just how much he's talked about me—about all of us—to his mom. From the way she seemed thrilled to meet Patty, it's probably a lot.
It's easy to see where Griffin's excitement and kindness come from. A good man from a good family.
“So, what's on tap for the afternoon?” Patty bustles out from behind the bar and joins us with a knowing look on her face. Her eyes sparkle like she's just as excited about Griffin's mom visiting as he is. It makes sense, because she's just as proud of Iron Brewery as Griffin is and puts more heart into the bar than almost anybody else. If I wasn't around when Brody and Griffin put the place together, I'd think she was around here even longer. “Are you taking your mom for the full tour of the town? You really should, you know. We've got a great place here.”
“We do,” I agree, and maybe that's why Griffin's eyes settle on me. They drop down to my lips and come back up to my eyes. This one time, I let myself look back at him. He's just so attractive that it's almost impossible to look away, and it would be weird if I looked down at my shoes.
A smile crosses Griffin's face. “Yeah, we do.”
I didn't think I could blush any harder, but I'm pretty sure it's happening. With Patty and Griffin's mom standing here with us, I just have to look at his handsome face and keep my smile still, because if I say another word, they'll both know I'm into him, and then I'll never live it down.
So I smile and smile, falling deeper into his eyes every second.
Griffin shakes himself, like he was falling too, and puts his hand on the back of his neck to rub at the skin there. “But now's not the right time for a town tour.”
Patty raises her eyebrows, but she's still smiling a little, which makes me think she knows more than she's letting on. “It isn't? The weather isn't bad, and there's still enough daylight to see everything.”
“Not yet.” Griffin drops his hand. He still hasn't stopped looking at me. “I thought we'd stay here for a while and have lunch.”
Griffin
My mom settles back into her seat across from me in my favorite booth. There’s a good view of the bar from this corner seat, plus I can watch the front doors.
My mom’s eyes flick over everything from the napkin holder and the framed photo of the main street on the Fourth of July and even the light fixture above us like she hasn’t seen all the videos I’ve sent her.
“So,” she says. “Tell me about this town. It's small…even smaller than our hometown.”
“I'd say it's just the right size.” The bar is just the right size, too. Enough space to have a good crowd for the big games, not so much that it feels like a corporate chain restaurant. We have a row of booths along one side and tables in the middle—not too many, not too few. A decent number of seats at the bar. In the summer, we can seat people on the side patio, where we've got wrought iron tables with blue-and-white umbrellas. Like most places in town, we're busier in the summer, a little slower in the winter, and it all works out fine.
This place was a hardware store before it was Iron Brewery, so Brody and I didn't go into it wanting to change everything. It's got old bones that stood the test of time but new tables, booths, chairs, and flooring. We refinished the bar and made sure it was set to go for another twenty years. Most of the bar stools are original to the place, but we had a few new ones made to match the ones that were on the way out.
“How's it just the right size?” she questions with a tilted smirk that makes me think she knows something.
“I don't know, it just...” I put my hands up, but there are really too many things to list. “It's a nice place to live. There’s everything I need right here. You should see the sailboats, Mom. There's something going on every weekend during the winter. If you need something, you can talk to your next-door neighbor, and that's true for the businesses, too. That is what I mean by just the right size.”
“Is everyone from here? Renee?” she asks, and I can see right where this line of questioning is headed.
Luckily, I'm saved by the bell.
“It's the kind of small town where everyone knows everyone, and yup, they all grew up here,” Brody says, joining us at the table. He slides into the seat next to my mom, and she kisses his cheek, brightening up even more.
He looks like he could use a shave and like he threw on whatever shirt was closest just to get out of the house but thank fuck Brody’s here. My mother has started calling him her adopted son, and honestly I could use the distraction. “How was your trip over?” he asks her.
“Just as uneventful as I could've hoped for,” she answers. “I almost listened to a whole audiobook.”
“Good. I was worried about the roads,” Brody says. “It looked like it might storm. I don't want you driving in that.”
“Oh, stop it. It almost never snows around here.” My mom waves him off, blushing. “How is Magnolia?”
“She's...” Brody takes a deep breath and smiles before he lets it out. “Pregnant.”
She slaps him lightly on the arm but laughs playfully, and Brody laughs with her. He talks to my mom almost as much as I do, mostly because my mother is a busybody and I stopped answering her questions about Brody. So she went right to the source. I’m glad he has my mom. He’s been through a lot and his family is farther away.
“Is she liking pregnancy?” My mother pushes and I can’t help but notice how she leans in. The back of my neck feels hot knowing how much my mother wants grandbabies. It’s all she ever talks about now.
