9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Eliza
He sure is handsome.
I can’t even deny it as I finish uploading the pictures of Nick onto my new Instagram page: Photos by Eliza. Yeah, it’s not a catchy title at all, but I like to stick to the point; and that’s what this is.
“Wow,” Granny says from behind me. “He sure is a looker.”
“He’s photogenic,” I admit, but decidedly am not saying anything more on the matter. “I think it’s a good start to my portfolio, don’t you?”
“I mean, I do like the squirrels…” Granny trails off in a cackle. “But yeah, I agree. I think it’s perfect. Martha will love them.”
“Martha?” I question, my brow furrowing.
Probably his girlfriend…
“His mom.”
Never mind.
“Ah, does he live with her or something?” I offer it up casually. There’s got to be something that makes him less than perfect.
Although who am I to judge, considering I’m living with my granny…
“Oh goodness, no,” Granny answers me, striking that off the list. “He lives in a cabin he built himself, over by the lake. He does help his mom out a lot with her place though. When his dad passed away, she didn’t really have anyone else, so, he’s a big help to her.”
“Oh…” I don’t even know what else to say.
I’m starting to realize that Nick might actually be more like Saint Nick.
“He’s a good guy, Eliza,” Granny begins, and something in her tone catches my attention. “And the two of you would be really cute together.”
Ah, there it is.
“Absolutely not,” I correct her, shaking my head. “You know where I stand on relationships right now. After Devon, I’m not doing it. I don’t want to go through that again. I thought he was Mr. Perfect when I met him, and look where that landed me.”
“He was a walking red flag, as you young folks say.” Granny raises a brow. “We all saw it. All he cared about was climbing the corporate ladder, and the way he—”
“Granny,” I stop her, letting out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter what Devon was, or how cute you think that Nick and I would be together. The best I can do with any man right now is to be friends. ”
She studies me for a moment in silence and then pulls out a chair beside me at the kitchen table. “You know, Eliza, you can’t give up on love yet. You’re only twenty-nine.”
“Yeah,” I snort, trying not to sound as bitter as I feel. “I’m twenty-nine . Most of my peers are married with kids—some of them are even in school already. It’s probably too late for me.”
She frowns. “It’s not too late at all.”
“Well, regardless, I don’t think it’s even worth the risk of getting hurt again. I think I’d rather adopt a couple of cats and accept my fate.”
“You can adopt some cats and find love…” She smirks.
I hold my tongue because there’s no winning an argument with this woman. My eyes flicker back to the image of Nick. His blue eyes are laser-focused on the level he has positioned on the post; the glow of the setting sun illuminates his face, and his jawline, dotted with stubble.
There’s no doubt that if I was looking for love, he might be in my sights. Except for the fact that he’s way out of my league.
“I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. I know you thought you’d be settled down by now; and maybe being here is making the reality of your situation sink in a little more,” Granny says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But just promise me something, okay? ”
“Depends on what it is.” My voice is wary as I turn to meet her soft gaze.
“Don’t give up on love. I know it sounds cliché and maybe it is, but honey, you’ve got so many years of life left to live. You might not be ready for it right now, but love is going to come again for you. I know it.”
I let out a sigh, resigning to making the promise. “Okay.” I mean, sure, I guess I won’t completely give up on love … but I have no intention of just letting it happen.
My walls are basically the Great Wall of China at this point. It’ll probably take a whole army to tear them down.
“Good, thank you.” She pats my shoulder and stands to her feet.
I smile, the thoughts of love fading away as I close out of the browser.
“Also, I meant to tell you, it’s bingo night tonight. Frank takes me every other week to go play down at the church. You can come if you want.”
“You know, as fun as that sounds, I think you deserve to have the night out on the town without me. You’re stuck with me enough as it is.”
“I like being stuck with you.” Granny kisses the top of my head. “It’s nice to not be alone for once.”
The words hit as she walks away, and my heart sinks at the thought of my granny spending the years since my pops passed all on her own. As selfish as it is, I never thought that much about it while I was off living in Chicago. I was much more focused on my own life than anything else.
No wonder Dad was always pestering my brother and me to come visit her.
I swallow the pang of guilt in my throat. The truth is, my work schedule at my previous job made a social life nearly impossible, much less an out-of-town trip to West Falls—I could barely get away from that place. But I’m making up for all the lost time now.
Granny might actually get sick of me before it’s all over .
I laugh at the thought as my phone dings with a text message.
Amy: IS THAT THE FIREMAN?!
I roll my eyes and type my reply.
Me: His name is Nick. And yes. I needed photos of actual people for my portfolio so I snapped a few of him while he was working on the ramp.
Amy: Get it, giiiiiiirl!
Before I can respond, my laptop dings with a notification.
Leaning forward, I squint at the small words: Martha Walters liked your photo.
My heart skips a beat. I click the notification, and sure enough, there’s an older woman’s profile picture. Nick favors her, but only in his nose and eyes .
“So, this is your mom, Nick…” I mumble under my breath, and open up her profile, scrolling through some of the family pictures. There’s not much that’s public, but what is, is filled with pictures of Martha, Nick, and a young woman. Some of them have an older man—one who I assume is Nick’s late father.
Okay, now I’m being creepy.
I exit out of Martha’s profile, but not before I see the notification: Lindy Willis liked your photo.
Mom.
I laugh to myself, having figured that my mom would be one of the first to support the page. That’s just how she is, and I honestly appreciate that about her.
Closing my laptop, my phone begins to ring, and just as expected, she’s calling me … probably to gush over the photos of Nick. I can hear her excitement before even answering the phone.
“Eliza! Oh my gosh, sweetie, those photos you posted are amazing! Who is the handsome man? Is he a model?” Mom’s voice chirps through the line.
I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “No, Mom, he’s not a model. His name is Nick, and he’s been helping rebuild Granny’s ramp. I was just taking pictures for my portfolio and happened to snap a few of him.”
“He’s a handyman ?!” she squeals. Lord knows how she’d react if she knew he was a fireman too… “Oh, Eliza, you should totally ask him out on a date!”
My eyes widen in disbelief at her suggestion. “No way! I barely know him. Besides, dating is the last thing on my mind right now.”
Mom lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, come on, honey! You need to put yourself out there again. Dad and I have been worried sick about you ever since you and Devon broke up.”
“Well, I appreciate your concern, but I’m honestly okay,” I reply, trying to reassure her. “I promise I’m not sitting at home pining over Devon. I’m actually enjoying focusing on myself for a change.”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line before she speaks again, her voice softer this time. “That’s good to hear, sweetheart. It’s just hard for us to see you alone. We want you to be happy.” I can hear the sincerity in her voice, and a pang of guilt tugs at me. I know my parents only want the best for me, but their constant worry about my love life is starting to wear on me.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to ease her concerns. “I know you and Dad want me to be happy, and I appreciate that more than you know. But I’m finally starting to figure out what I want in life without being tied down to someone else’s expectations,” I explain, hoping she’ll understand. “I’m not ready to jump into anything new just yet.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before she responds, “Okay, sweetie. I trust you to know what’s best for yourself. But please remember we’re here for you, and we’re rooting for you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“We’re just a little eager to have some grandbabies to spoil,” she adds with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
I can’t help but roll my eyes at her comment. “How about you let me focus on getting my life together first before you start planning for little ones.” I try to keep the tone light, despite the amount of pressure building from her words.
“Alright, alright. I’ll give you a break … for now.”
We chat for a while longer about other things—family news, upcoming plans, and her latest garden projects—before finally saying our goodbyes.
It feels reassuring to know that my family cares about me, even if their methods can be a bit overbearing at times.
I’d rather be bothered by an abundance of love than feel completely unloved.