Chapter 22
Nash
Today feels empty without the prospect of seeing Magnolia, but I know I did the right thing, telling her we wouldn’t continue this. I’m interrupting her dreams and goals.
It’s time to tell Grandpa the truth. I park my car in front of the main door at his house.
Eli is there to take the keys from me. It will never feel normal to have a chauffeur around.
“Do you mind if I park it behind the house?” he asks.
I look at him and see the concern on his face. “What’s going on?” I ask. It’s never been an issue that I’ve parked in the front before.
“There’ve been a lot of rumors going around. Someone called the house to give their condolences about your grandpa’s passing.”
A pain shoots through my chest at his words.
Eli holds up his hands and shakes his head rapidly. “He’s totally fine. That’s what I mean. It’s just someone spreading a rumor. Your grandpa thought it would be better not to have any cars parked in the front so people wouldn’t assume you were here, grieving.”
“Who else is here?” I ask.
“Your aunt and uncle. And the family lawyer.”
“Well, this ought to be interesting.”
Eli grins. “Why do you think I’m happy to be parking cars?”
I slap him on the back, then make my way inside.
I wipe my shoes against the front rug. The ground is wet outside from the light rain this morning.
It feels weird to wear shoes in the house.
It’s something my mom would yell at me for.
If there’s one thing she can’t stand, it is outside germs in her house.
And heaven forbid Dad or I came in with cow manure all over our boots and stepped in her freshly mopped kitchen. Then we’d really get it.
Dad and I were always testing the boundaries of Mom’s righteous anger. She’d pretend to be mad and chase us out of the house, but usually, we’d see her crack a smile before she slammed the door in our faces.
Those memories bring a smile back to my face.
I can hear voices in the living room, so instead of going straight upstairs, I head toward whatever is happening right now. Probably between Uncle Kevin and the lawyer.
When I turn the corner, I’m greeted with a pleasant sight. Grandpa is sitting in his favorite armchair, looking pleased as can be.
Kevin is busy yelling at the lawyer, telling him that he shouldn’t be listening to a man who’s on his deathbed. I glance at Grandpa, who has good color in his cheeks and doesn’t look so ill today.
Aunt Judith looks tired, like someone has sent her through the heavy wash cycle and left her to hang dry somewhere. She glances up when I walk into the room and gives me a nod.
Grandpa sits up and waves me over.
I bend down and give him a hug. “It’s good to see you down in the living room.”
“I was halfway scared someone would redecorate if I didn’t come down here myself.”
“Harper took an interior design class last summer,” I tell him with a grin. “I’m sure she’d be up to the task.
Grandpa shudders.
He loves Harper, but Harper loves bright colors. So far, she seems to have escaped most of Kevin’s bad qualities. She might be equally loud, and it works for her, but Grandpa’s design taste doesn’t exactly run to hot-pink cheetah print.
I sit down in the chair next to Grandpa.
Kevin and the lawyer don’t even seem to notice that I’m here. They’re standing in front of the hearth, pointing back and forth. They look like two little kids poking each other and insisting, I didn’t touch you.
I reach for the mints and grab a handful of something else. “What happened to those good chocolate mints you used to keep in here?” I ask, coming away with a handful of pistachios.
“The doctor has hidden all tasty treats in this house.”
I shake my head. “Grandpa, I wouldn’t be surprised if he put a padlock on the fridge.”
“He told me I’m only allowed to eat things that are good for my heart and that I shouldn’t put too much stress on it right now. He’s trying to kill me with a joyless life.”
“Yep. He sounds downright awful,” I agree. “Why wouldn’t he just bring you a bowl of sugar and a spoon and let you have at it?”
Grandpa scowls at me. “Don’t go siding with that guy. He’s making my life miserable.”
“He’s keeping you alive,” I remind him.
“I think Magnolia’s keeping me alive,” Grandpa says.
I jerk my head up at that. “What do you mean by that?” I ask a little sharply.
“I have hope that I’ll get to see my great-grandchildren someday. You know, she once told me in a conversation that she couldn’t wait to have a family of her own. If you two could hurry up and get married and give me a great-grandchild by next year, that would be great.”
“Oh, sure,” I reply dryly. “I’ll get right on that.”
Grandpa smiles at me. “You did well, picking her.”
“No more talking about Magnolia. I want to talk about your health. You’re looking great.”
“I’m not done talking about Miss Magnolia,” Grandpa grumps. It still makes me smile that he calls her that. “I like seeing you with someone that makes you happy. I’ve been so worried. When you told me about your fiancée, you didn’t talk about her the way she really is.”
I clear my throat. “You know I’m a horrible communicator.”
“Thank goodness for that, because I thought she was after your money. She laughed and told me she wanted the prenup because she didn’t want to share her whiskey collection.”
Of course she did, I think to myself. Because she’s witty and funny—and we’re not actually getting married.
“You really like her?” I ask, because this is not how I pictured this conversation going. I was imagining coming in and telling Grandpa that we’d had a big argument and decided to go our separate ways.
“I see the way you look at her. That’s enough for me. And she just seems like the nicest person.”
“I’m not sure I’d call her nice,” I say wryly. “Maybe sassy.”
Grandpa laughs. “You need someone who will keep you in line. I think she’ll do that job quite well.”
“Well, the thing is, Grandpa, I didn’t want to have to say this or bring it up—especially since you like her so much…” I pause, tapping my fingers against my leg as I try to figure out how to phrase this in a way that won’t give him a shock.
He’s looking at me intensely as he leans forward.
“Magnolia and I had a—”
He cuts in with a loud cough. He pats a hand against his chest as the coughing fit takes over. I reach out and rest a hand against his back, but I’m too scared to pat him because he seems so frail.
“I’m all right,” he says. He looks up at me with droopy eyelids. “I think maybe I just overdid it today. Coming down here and listening to these two fools arguing.”
We both look at Kevin and the lawyer, who are still going at it and don’t even seem aware that we’re in the same room. Judith is scrolling on her phone, looking perfectly happy not to be included in either conversation.
“I’ll help you upstairs,” I tell him and offer my arm.
He stands, grasping it, but if I don’t tell him the truth now, he’ll probably demand to see Magnolia later.
“Well, the truth is, Grandpa, Magnolia and I are not—”
He interrupts me again. “It’s all right that she couldn’t be here this morning. I understand she has things going on.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
I should just blurt it out, I think to myself. Magnolia and I are not—
The front door swings open, and Magnolia strides inside. I did not expect her to show up. Not after I said something about us being done with this lie. She doesn’t deserve this level of stress in her life.
She heads straight for Grandpa, ignoring me, and reaches for him with both hands. The man stands up straighter, his eyes snapping open.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says.
She leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you down here in the living room. I’m so happy you’re feeling better.”
As she holds on to his shoulders, he does not look like a man who just had a coughing fit that deprived him of oxygen. Now, he looks like a man ready to go dancing with Magnolia. He grabs her hand and tucks it under his arm.
“I was just telling Nash that I was missing you, so I’m sure glad you’re here this afternoon. Now,” he says, turning to look at me, “what was that you were trying to tell me about Magnolia?”
I glare at Magnolia. I thought I’d made it clear last night that the ruse is done. I want to ask her why she’s here, but I can’t say that part out loud with Grandpa right there.
“I’m not sure what she’s doing here,” I grind out.
Magnolia gives me a silly face behind Alexander’s head.
Grandpa passes her hand to me. “You two follow me in here. We’ll go have a chat where no one’s arguing.”
He shuffles away, toward the kitchen—rather spry, not like the man who was leaning on my arm moments before. Magnolia’s hand is tucked under my arm, and I hang on to her wrist, not letting her pull it back.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” I whisper furiously.
She looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Whatever do you mean, dear sweet fiancé?”
“We agreed last night that I would break things off for Grandpa. Why are you here?”
“What are you talking about?” she demands.
“When I tucked you into bed, I told you not to worry about this mess,” I remind her.
She scowls at me. “I was supposed to assume you were ending our engagement from those few words?”
“I thought those words were plenty!” I exclaim.
She tries to jerk her hand away, but I don’t let her. She reaches over and does one of those pinch-twist things on my side. It hurts, but I still don’t let go.
She glares up at me. “They were said while I was very sleepy and in my bed.”
“And here you are. You should still be home sleeping. I told you I was only stopping by for a little bit.”
“Alexander texted me,” she blurts out. “I’m actually kind of serious about that place your Grandpa was talking about for a possible distillery and bakery.”
“So, this is only about business for you?” Why do I care so much about her answer? Because I like her.
“Well, I’m not here for the marriage, am I?” she asks.