“We haven’t. Not since he deserted me.”
Donna Rae rolled her eyes. “He didn’t desert you. He went off to college.”
“And never once called. Never answered my letter. Never visited.”
“And you haven’t even talked since Bea hired you?”
“There’s never been the need. Until now.”
“Well, I’m excited. You’re destined to be together.”
Lindsay leaned back and thunked her head against the wall. Her friend was way off base. “We were never more than friends, but the thought of seeing him again scares me.”
Donna Rae gave a deep, throaty laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me. I’m nervous. And just you watch. I’ll end up with a migraine before it’s all over.”
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you again.”
Yeah, right. He’d missed her friendship so much that he’d ignored her for the last fifteen years. They’d been the best of friends. Or so she thought. But two days after graduation, he’d left town. Just disappeared without so much as a goodbye.
Apparently their friendship meant nothing to him. And that still hurt. She would have to steel herself for his arrival.
That evening, Lindsay watched Granny Bea try to grip a fork and scoop a bite of green beans into her mouth with her right wrist enclosed in a spanking-new cast. The cast was brilliant white except for Lindsay’s and Donna Rae’s signatures scrawled in a circular pattern around the wrist area like a pair of bracelets.
A couple of the beans fell down the front of Granny Bea’s hospital gown.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Lindsay said.
“I might as well learn to do it on my own. I’ll have the thing for weeks.”
“I can help today. You’re sore and tired.”
Granny Bea harrumphed, but leaned back against her pillow, relenting. “I hate being laid up. What about the community center?”
“Mr. Kennedy and the others covered for us today. You’ll be able to go back to work in a couple of days, looking like one of the kids.” She smiled at the woman she took care of who was also her friend and coworker. “I know you’ll impress Dylan.”
“Yes. I’ll have to tell him I fell out of a tree or something a bit exciting.”
“Mr. Kennedy will sure want to fuss over you.”
“Oh, don’t even mention his name or you’ll get my ire up.”
“He’s been crazy about you for two years. You should see him mope when you’re not at the center.”
Granny Bea shook her casted arm. “That man is too young for me. If he hovers, I’ll bop him in the head with this thing.”
“Granny Bea has a boyfriend,” Lindsay sang.
“I may have to test it out on your head first.”
Lindsay laughed, then scooped up a bite of beans, held it out to Granny Bea, and watched as she ate it.
A man cleared his throat in the doorway, then rapped on the door. “Granny?”
She’d know that voice anywhere. Had she really thought she could prepare for this moment?
She was afraid to turn around. Afraid of the hurt that might still show on her face even after so many years.
“Bill, honey, you’re here!” Granny Bea called. “Come in.”
Lindsay pasted a half-smile on her face, then swiveled around to see him.
Oh, my. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She absolutely could not believe this was Bill Wellington. Tall, skinny, nerdy, bookworm Bill had been transformed during his years away.
Tall. Yes, he was still tall. But that’s where the similarities ended. He had filled out. And had turned into an attractive man. How could that have happened?
He hurried to his granny’s side, then hugged her. “How are you feeling?” He was so careful, so concerned, that it gave Lindsay’s heartstrings a big, ol’ yank.
“I’m fine, son.”
He looked up from Granny Bea and smiled in Lindsay’s direction. “Hi, Lindsay.”
After several seconds of staring at this near stranger, she realized she hadn’t acknowledged his greeting. “Oh, hi. Good to see you again. Wow. You’re all grown-up.” Way to go, Lindsay. Stating the obvious.
“Yes, fifteen years have a way of doing that. But you look exactly the same. I would have recognized you anywhere.”
And she couldn’t have picked him out of a police lineup if her life depended on it. His dark brown, shaggy hair was now short and layered and looked as if it had lightened in the sun. His gaunt, pale face was now tanned, angular, masculine. And his beanpole body was now muscle-bound.
“Broken wrist, huh?” He touched Granny Bea’s cast. Then he craned his neck, trying to read the signatures. Once he completed reading the circle of permanent marker, he smiled at Lindsay.
Her traitorous heart galloped underneath her rib cage. Stop it! I will not let my heart race over this man. This supposed friend.
“Lindsay, I appreciate you bringing her to the hospital. I’m sure you’re worn out. I’ll stay with her tonight.”
She bristled. He’d marched in and was going to try to take over Granny Bea’s care.
He’s her grandson. He has every right to.
Still, it made her mad that he lived his life way up there in Boston and barely ever spent time with his granny.
“I can stay,” she said. “I imagine you’re tired from traveling.”
“I dozed a little on the flight. Go on home. I’ll call you if she needs anything.”
“He’s right, dear. You’ve been here all day.”
What could she do? “Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow morning with some fresh clothes for her.”