Chapter Twelve #3
“I love that!” Bailey said. “I’m feeling a little sentimental about it since…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know how to talk about Hattie’s impending death. This was Landon’s grandmother, after all, and she didn’t want to be insensitive.
“Since the holiday line will be an homage to Hattie?” he asked in a soft voice. “It’s okay. You can say it. Hattie says it all the time. She’ll be gone by the time this line rolls out.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I hate putting it into words. It sounds so final.”
“Well, it is. Or it will be. There are certain things we can’t avoid in life, and this is one of them.” He met her gaze. “I can’t help but wonder if Hattie isn’t expediting the presentation for that very reason.”
“Oh no,” Bailey said, shocked that it hadn’t even crossed her mind earlier. “Do you really think so?”
“It makes sense. All this bucket list stuff came up out of the blue.” He took a swig of his soda, then placed the can back down. “Think about it. This sudden flurry of wanting to do all these grand things.”
“She’s giving us a big hint,” Bailey said, feeling stunned. She knew that people who were sick sometimes sensed that they were slipping away.
“I think so. It shouldn’t come as a big surprise to us, because Hattie always told us a year, give or take a few months.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Doesn’t make it any easier, though, does it?”
“No,” he said, looking away from her. “I know this is going to hit me really hard. I was only twelve when my maternal grandpa died, but it messed me up for a long time. When we left Alaska, we lived with him and he took really good care of all of us. Honestly, he was the closest thing we had to a father figure.”
“So you know what loss is,” Bailey said. “Like I do.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, nodding. “It’s like falling down into this dark hole and not being able to get out.” She had never heard anyone describe it that way, but he’d nailed it.
Bailey nodded. “You described grief perfectly.” She knew his grief over Hattie would be monumental. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. It would be like a tidal wave rushing over him. “Someone very wise once said it’s the cost of loving, and that’s the truest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Landon shot her a sad smile that told her that he knew exactly what she meant.
Without saying anything further, they got back to work. Landon knew the line backward and forward. He had an animated demeanor that came to life when he was talking about the holiday line.
“I think you should take the lead on the presentation,” Bailey suggested. She could picture Hattie sitting there proudly as her grandson completed the circle on her legacy.
“No, Bailey. This is your baby. I know you have aspirations to do more at Yukon Cider.”
“Our baby,” she corrected him. “You’ve done some outstanding work.”
“I-I don’t know what to say. That’s really generous of you.”
Bailey held up her hand. “I’m not being generous, Landon. You deserve to take center stage and be the lead. And don’t worry. I’ll be there chiming in.”
“If you’re sure,” Landon said. “It would be an honor.”
After several hours of working on the presentation, both of their energy levels dropped. She was feeling a bit zapped and in need of a boost. Although Landon probably felt the same way, she sensed he wouldn’t voice it.
“I think we need to take a break and move around a little,” Bailey suggested.
Landon stood up and stretched. He was standing so close that she could smell the sandalwood aroma of his cologne.
Achingly close. His sweater rose up, and she caught a glimpse of his abs.
They were toned and muscled. Holy moly! If he wasn’t standing right there, Bailey would have started fanning herself with her hand. It was getting a little hot in here.
She looked away from Landon’s abs before he saw her staring. Hubba hubba. He was definitely eating his Wheaties. A chuckle escaped her lips.
“What’s so funny?” Landon asked. “Care to share the joke?”
“Oh, it’s just something my sister Regina said the other day. A little nurse humor,” she fibbed.
“Go on. Hit me with it,” Landon said, looking at her expectantly. “I need a good laugh.”
“Umm, okay,” she said, racking her brain to try to remember one of Regina’s nurse jokes. Her sister had one for every occasion. Not a single one was funny. “What did the cookie say to the nurse?”
“I have no idea,” he answered.
“I feel crumby,” Bailey said. “Get it? Crumbs as in cookie crumbs.” She began to chuckle again, not because the joke was funny but due to the dumbfounded expression on Landon’s face.
Landon just stared at her for a few moments. “Your sister told you that joke?”
“Mm-hmm,” Bailey said. It was the worst joke in the world, but it was all she could think of in the moment. She wasn’t about to tell him about her Wheaties thoughts.
Or that she had been transfixed by his yummy abs. Nope. It was far better that he thought that she was a teller of corny jokes than someone who had been objectifying him.