Chapter Twenty-Two
I was glad that the house was empty when I got home that evening. I really, really liked Connor. Maybe I was even falling in love with him. And Gina Lou had fast become a good friend. Still, I needed time to process what Jasper had told me. I went from room to room and mourned Aunt Gracie like I had not done at her funeral, or even since. I cried for the love she never had, for the way she must have felt when she found out Davis was her brother. But most of all I wept for the guilt she would have experienced knowing that she had been the princess and he was treated like a stable hand. He had lived in a tiny house in the backyard, and she’d had all the luxuries that money could buy.
I made my way up to her bedroom, shoved the panties off onto the floor, and stretched out on her bed. She hadn’t left all those little clues for me, but for herself in case she ever got dementia. The diary had been shoved into a drawer to rest beneath her underwear—panties that her mother had forbidden her to wear—so that she didn’t have to look at it and remember that horrible day when she lost respect for her father and also lost the love of her life at the same time. I wondered why it hadn’t been relegated to the shoebox with the dried roses and wine bottle, but I was sure she had her reasons.
I knew the big secret now, and I had vowed that I would never tell anyone, not even Connor. When Jasper had joined his precious Gracie and good friend Davis in eternity, the secret would be safe with me. I focused on the pink floral wallpaper and muttered, “But why did you even want him to tell me? Why not my mother? That would have put her mind at ease about ghosts in the house.”
“Lila, are you there?” Mama’s voice echoed off the walls of the room. “Answer me. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered. Maybe there were ghosts in the house after all. If Mama could answer my questions from a thousand miles away, then there had to be something strange going on.
“Your voice sounds muffled!” Mama yelled.
That’s when I realized I had butt-dialed my mother on my cell phone. I fished it out of my pocket and took it off speaker mode. “Is that better?”
“Yes, I was about to call the Poteet sheriff and send them out to Ditto for a wellness call.” Her tone sounded frantic. “All kinds of things shot through my mind. I heard you talking about ghosts, and a shiver went down my back.”
“I didn’t mean to call you. My phone was in the pocket of my skirt, and I must’ve rolled over on it and hit redial,” I told her.
“Where are you right now, this minute?” she demanded.
“I’m at home, in Aunt Gracie’s room.” I hopped off the bed and picked up all her underwear. “I’m doing a little straightening up in here and got tired, so I stretched out on her bed for a few minutes. Where are you?”
“We’re still in Nashville.” Mama’s tone told me she was excited. “We’re going to the Belle Meade Plantation today—that shows up in so many of the stories I’ve read. Did you and Jasper go to church this morning?”
“Yes, and then we went to Annie’s—I mean ... the Ambrosia, for lunch. Jasper declares it’s a one-and-done experience. I agree with him. The whole menu is changed, and they serve burgers on cold buns.”
Mama snorted with laughter. “I bet that went over like a lead balloon.”
“Yep, it did for Jasper,” I agreed and laughed with her.
“Did you take him to the cemetery after lunch?” Her voice sounded like it had a touch of homesickness in it.
“Yes,” I said, “and then to the Dairy Queen for ice cream after that. We’ve only been home a little while. He’s feeling so much better that he should be well by the end of the week when he takes his last medication.”
“Thank you,” Mama said and then sighed.
“For what?”
“Aunt Gracie made me promise not to talk you into moving back to Ditto. It had to be your choice. But if you decided to stay in Austin, then I had to give her my word that I would look after Jasper,” she explained. “Now that you are there, I can travel and do things I’ve always thought would never be possible.”
“Family takes care of family,” I told her. “Jasper is as much my grandpa as Everett is Connor’s. You don’t have to have the same DNA to be family.”
“What about Connor?” she asked. “I was so excited about the Grand Ole Opry that I didn’t ask where he took you on your date.”
I slapped my forehead. I’d been so careful not to bring up Connor’s name. Now that I had accidently let the cat out of the bag, I might as well feed the thing.
“I’ll send you pictures right now so you can see. I clean forgot to send them. We went to the river, but we didn’t have bologna sandwiches. And, Mama, he came over the last two evenings. We sat on the porch and talked for hours. Here they come ...”
“Oh. My. Goodness!” she gasped. “Do I really see cloth napkins?”
“You do, and a bottle of very good wine.”
“I hear something in your voice, Delilah Grace. Are you falling in love with him?”
“Yes, I am,” I admitted. “I asked him outright if he was only interested in me so he could sweet-talk me out of my house and land. He assures me that he is not, and I believe him. Even if we ever did get married, this place is mine and will be forever.”
“Are you still not going to renew Everett’s lease on the strawberries?” she asked.
“I need something to keep me busy and so I will feel productive,” I replied, “so yes, ma’am, I’m going to be a strawberry farmer. I might even start going to the meetings of all the growers in this area. I want to talk to you and Annie about working for me part-time when I start making strawberry wine.”
“Annie is back from her workout in the little gym here in the hotel,” Mama said. “We’ll talk more later—and, honey, be careful with all your decisions.”
“Will do,” I said, “and y’all have a good time.”
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and started down to the kitchen to get a glass of tea when I heard, “Lila!”
There was no mistaking that the voice was Connor’s, but how had I accidently called him? I jerked the phone out, but the screen was dark.
“Lila, are you home?” he called out again.
I realized that he was yelling from the front porch and picked up my pace. “I’m on my way down. Come on in.”
We met in the foyer, and he wrapped me up in his arms. “I know I just saw you last night, but this has been a very long day. I missed you so much.” He tipped up my chin with his fist and kissed me—long, lingering, and hotter than the tip of the devil’s little forked tail. My arms snaked up around his neck, and I leaned into his body. Chest against chest. Heartbeats in unison.
I wished I could stay right there forever in our own little bubble, where the world and all the people in it disappeared, but he finally took a step back and gave me one final kiss on the forehead.
“I might live now,” he said and took my hand in his and led me into the kitchen.
Something had changed in the house when he kissed me that time. It felt like one of those musicals that is shown on television when the music at the end is playing as the credits roll. The happily ever after has been reached after obstacles and loops have been overcome, and the couple are together. No more ghosts, no more eerie feelings—just pure old unadulterated joy filled the house.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” he teased.
“Well, darlin’, I don’t know whether to drink the iced tea I’m about to fix for us or pour it down my shirt. Does that answer your question?”
“Perfectly. Can I help?”
Ice cubes clinked against the tall glasses and then crackled when I poured the tea in on top of them. “Nope, but let’s take our tea out to the porch, and I’ll tell you all about the new café.”
“Why not the back porch?” he asked.
“Jasper is taking his nap, and if Sassy hears someone talking, she might wake him up,” I explained.
“Front porch, it is,” he agreed and carried the two glasses through the foyer and outside.
He waited for me to be seated and then handed me the tea. Then he took a seat and a long drink before he said, “I meant it when I said I missed you. This morning it seemed like the minister was never going to end his sermon, and then he called on Hoot McGeady to deliver the benediction. Hoot thanked God for everything from the day dirt was created and for the rainbow that appeared in the sky after the great flood to the food that we would be partaking of this day and at least four of his previous meals.”
“Compared to that, we had a very good service,” I chuckled.
“Then Grandpa had heard that neither of the two new cafés had chicken and dressing or even chicken-fried steaks on the menu. We stopped at the Dairy Queen, but it was jam-packed, so we ended up driving up to San Antonio for lunch,” he said. “I would have gladly had a bologna sandwich or a can of soup with you rather than the steak that took forever to cook and bring to our table.”
I reached up and patted his cheek. “Poor baby. Did this day just plumb test the Jesus in you?”
“It sure did, but I’m here now, and being with you makes me happy.” He leaned over and kissed me.
“Sweet tea sure tastes better when mixed with a kiss than it does when it’s coming out of the glass,” I told him.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said as he leaned in for another.
I was practically panting when the kiss ended. A whole gallon of sweet tea wouldn’t be able to cool me down. “Well?”
“Still not sure.” He picked me up like I was no heavier than a snowflake and set me on his lap. “Let’s give it one more try.”
Fifteen minutes later, I wiggled free of his embrace, set the tea on the porch, took him by the hand, and led him inside. “Slow just stopped,” I whispered.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I know we said we were going to take it slow, but ...” I started up the stairs and had only made it to the second step when he scooped me up and carried me to the top.
“Which room is yours?” he asked.
I pointed to the open door. “I have to give Jasper his medicine at nine.”
“That gives us three hours,” he whispered, “and then the rest of the night to make up for the time you are gone.”
“I like that idea.” I closed the door with my foot as we went inside.