14. Willow Delmont
Chapter fourteen
Willow Delmont
“Are you sure you want to be here for this? I can tell her while you wait outside,” I say to Jason as he pulls up to my granny’s little farmhouse.
After getting our story straight and our plans finalized during dinner, I figured it was best to tell Granny Mae tonight. I’ll call my parents first thing in the morning before they see any news, but I want to tell Granny in person. When I mentioned it to Jason, he said he’d come along for support. At first, I welcomed it, but now I’m wondering if it’s such a good idea.
Not just because Granny is liable to be madder than a hornet’s nest–her words, not mine–but because this home is a part of my heart. My apartment might be a makeshift sanctuary, but this place was and always will be a true haven for me. Memories are so ingrained into this land that the very air is laced with nostalgia and love. Jason coming here is like showing him my very soul. That’s not something I was prepared for.
“I think it would be good if I met her. Plus, you can blame me and I’ll be able to take any blows in the moment.”
I sigh and open the car door. “Brace yourself then, because she might actually throw something.”
“I’ve been hit by two hundred forty pounds of pure muscle before. I think I can handle this.”
I don’t tell him that I’d be more afraid of Granny than a linebacker. It’s probably not helpful, and he seems determined to stick by my side.
We walk up to the house through the dark. The only thing piercing the night is the warm yellow porch light. I smile, hearing my granddaddy’s voice in my head. “We’ll always leave the porch light on for you, sugar. Any time you need us, we’re here.”
I swallow down the emotion threatening to bring me to tears. What would he think of this? I glance at Jason as we walk up the steps side by side. What would he think of Jason? My stomach turns. I won’t ever know, I suppose.
Jason lifts his hand to knock, but I touch his arm before he can. My skin tingles from the contact and I jerk it back. “You don’t need to knock. She’ll think something is really wrong if you do that,” I explain, then pull my keys out of my clutch.
Once I unlock the door, I step inside and start slipping off my flats. I gesture toward Jason’s shoes, and he does the same.
“Granny, it’s me!” I yell out.
“I almost pulled out my gun, but I thought I’d wait to hear if it was you,” she calls back.
Jason chuckles while I shake my head.
“I brought someone for you to meet,” I say as I follow the sound of her voice to the living room. No doubt she’s settled in knitting a blanket or crocheting a hat for one of her friends' many grandbabies and great-grandbabies. I hope she doesn’t bring up kids after I tell her. I’ll never hear the end of it from Jason.
“Someone for me to meet?” She looks up from her knitting and gasps. “As I live and breathe, Jason Kingsley , is that you?”
I glance up at Jason, my stomach flipping like a fish out of water. There are so many ways this could go wrong.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, sounding a little nervous himself.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Granny asks as she sets her knitting project aside. She’s spent more time in her recliner since her injury a few days ago. I know it must be killing her not to be up moving around. I just hope that energy isn’t going to be redirected to her interrogating us.
Jason looks at me. At first, I think he’s putting the spotlight on me, but then he murmurs, “Do you want me to start, or you?”
“I can do it,” I reply, though I barely believe my own words. I look at Granny, who’s looking at us how she looks at the TV when she’s watching one of her British mystery shows.
“I get the feeling you have something to tell me,” Granny says before I can work up the courage to speak. “How about you put on a pot of coffee, then we sit and chat?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jason speaks on my behalf.
“Willow can give you a tour while we wait for it to brew,” Granny says.
My heart jumps. That’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen. A tour means he’ll see my old room, which looks almost the same as when I was a little girl. I didn’t even change it when I lived here before I moved into my apartment. At least it’s too dark to tour the outside. I don’t think I could bear Jason seeing the old stables. I’ve not gone out there much since Dad came and sold the horses.
Granny gives me a look telling me her words weren’t a suggestion.
“Come on,” I grumble and take his hand, dragging him out of the living room and toward the kitchen.
“If you don’t want to show me around, we can wait somewhere out of sight and I’ll just lie about seeing everything,” Jason says.
I pause at the coffee maker. His hand is warm in mine, and a foolish part of me doesn’t want to let go, but I do.
“I just didn’t expect to be showing you so much of my life so soon,” I say quietly, so Granny doesn’t hear. Even in her old age, she’s been known to have ears like a bat.
“I understand,” he says in a low voice, and I can see in his eyes that he does. “It’s okay if you want to wait to show me this part of you, or if you want to keep it for yourself.”
There’s something intimate about standing so close and whispering like this. I haven’t turned on the overhead light, so it’s dark aside from the tiny bulb above the stove. It feels as though we’re having some kind of secret rendezvous. As if he’s a boy I’m debating sneaking upstairs, rather than the man I’m going to marry in a week.
“Willow,” Jason whispers, dipping his head toward me. “I know the past few days have been a lot for you. I’m here to help shoulder your burdens, not add to them.”
I let out a breath, something akin to relief washing over me at his words. I don’t know if I can fully trust what he’s saying, fully trust him , but I think I can at least try. Showing him my grandparents’ house doesn’t seem so daunting when he says things like that.
“I can give you the tour,” I tell him as I scoop coffee grounds into the filter. “Thank you for saying that.”
He nods, a soft smile on his lips. “I meant every word.”
I wish I could fully believe him. Maybe, in time, I will.
I finish starting the coffee, then we walk up the stairs in silence. Once we reach the top, I turn on the hall light. Lining the walls are family photos. I don’t gesture to them, or even pause so he can look them over. Each one holds a memory before Grandaddy died, and my emotions are pulled too taut to handle looking at them. Instead, I walk to the end of the hall where my room is. Ever since I was born, it’s been mine. It’s gone from a nursery with a crib to a playroom with a twin bed, to a teenager’s haven with a plush queen bed, soft quilt, and a window overlooking the horses’ pasture.
“This is my room when I stay here,” I tell him as I open the door and turn on the lights. “The other two rooms up here aren’t much to see. One is a guest bed for when my parents come to stay, and the other holds Granny’s craft supplies.”
Jason nods as he makes his way around the room, his movements slow and intentional. I stay by the door, my arms crossed over my chest in a protective stance. I try to view the room through his eyes instead of someone who’s been here thousands of times.
The fabric on my quilt is a bit worn since I’ve had it since elementary school. Granny offered to make me a new one or patch up this one, but I refused. I love it too much to part with it or change it. There are a few thrifted paintings on the wall, from when I used to go to estate sales with Granny every summer. One is of a horse with a barn that looks identical to the one my grandaddy built out back. The others are different landscapes. My old desk has a few notebooks on it, and a couple of honors awards that my parents didn’t have room for so Granny said she’d keep them for me.
“How often were you here?” Jason asks, drawing me out of my childhood memories.
“Every summer since kindergarten,” I answer.
He runs his fingertips over the quilt as he passes it, and I feel his touch as if it were against my skin instead.
“I knew you must have spent a long time here. It feels like you.”
“How can you say that when we barely know each other?”
He smiles, not at all offended by my question. “I think you want us not to know each other as well as we do.” His answer hangs in the air between us for a moment. I’m about to swat it away when he speaks again. “But aside from that, all these colors are the ones you decorated with back at your apartment. It’s cozy and warm.”
I don’t like that he noticed so much. He’s not supposed to pay that much attention to the details of my life. Except, he is. He’s going to be my husband . I’m supposed to know about him, too. By the time we separate, we’re liable to know each other better than anyone else out of sheer necessity. If we don't, the ruse will be revealed, and all our efforts for nothing.
The idea of Jason knowing me better than anyone has my throat tightening. It’s becoming all too clear that I haven’t thought this through enough, but it’s too late. I can’t back out now. If I do, I’ll abandon Granny Mae and her medical bills.
“Coffee’s ready!” Granny yells up the stairs, making me jump.
“Coming!” I call back, thankful my voice doesn’t shake.
“Are you all right?” Jason asks, walking toward me.
I take a step back. “I’m fine, let’s go get this over with.”
He frowns. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
We walk downstairs and panic rises with each step. Jason’s large, warm hand grabs mine and squeezes it softly. I look up at him in surprise. After my earlier remarks, I didn’t expect such a soft expression from him.
“We’re in this together, okay?” he whispers as we walk.
“Okay,” I whisper back.
He stays by my side as I pull down a tray and pour three cups of coffee into mugs. After that, I grab a ceramic sugar canister Granny keeps by the coffee pot and a jug of vanilla creamer out of the fridge. The entire time, Jason leans on the counter, watching me. It doesn’t feel like scrutiny though. More like he’s making sure I’m okay. He’s like a strong pillar for me to lean on, only I’m scared he’ll crumble beneath the weight if I try to.
In the living room, Granny has turned her recliner to face the couch, where she’s expecting us to sit. I hand her a mug–she drinks her coffee black–and busy myself with fixing my own at the coffee table. Two spoons of sugar go in first, then a splash of creamer. I’m stirring when Granny speaks up.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re wearing an engagement ring or does the cat still have your tongue?”
I drop the silver spoon, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug. Jason grabs a napkin and dabs it up, giving me an encouraging smile. I abandon my coffee and wring my hands in my lap.
“Jason and I are engaged,” I blurt out. “We’re getting married next weekend at the botanical gardens.”
Granny’s thin brows raise. I glance at Jason, my nerves flaring. He looks caught off guard by my bad delivery as well.
“You’re marrying the man who, just a few days ago, you told me was obnoxious.” Granny doesn’t mince words.
Thankfully, Jason looks more amused than hurt.
“That’s one of her pet names for me,” he says, and Granny lets out a surprised laugh.
“Since you seem quick on your feet, why don’t you tell me why my granddaughter is telling me she’s getting married a week before her wedding?”
Jason shifts in his seat. I want to help him, but I don’t know how. I’m too busy floundering. This does not bode well for our future.
“That would be my fault, Mrs. Delmont,” he says, his voice deeper and more serious than usual. “I asked Willow to keep things under wraps so we could stay out of the media longer. My whole life is on display; I wanted something special for myself.” There’s a conviction in his words that rings true. “Do you take me for a gossip?” Granny asks. I shoot her an admonishing look because I know she’d tell everyone I was dating pro football player Jason Kingsley.
“I didn’t tell my family either, ma’am,” he replies instead of answering her directly. “I’ll be telling my brother tonight after his game, and my parents tomorrow morning before my own. You’re the first to know.” He pauses. “Well, besides my agent, Brock.”
I’d forgotten that his brother played football too, at the same college Jason attended. There was a segment on SportsCenter about the two of them. It occurs to me that Jason must have missed watching his brother’s game to take me on a date tonight. Was that a sacrifice, or are they not that close?
“Are you close with your family?” Granny asks him, as if she read my thoughts.
“I’m close with my brother. My parents are good people, but they aren’t very affectionate. They made sure we had what we needed.”
Granny nods. “Okay, well something you should know is that the Delmonts are a tight-knit family. Willow’s parents may live in Canada, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.” She looks at me, her gaze inquisitive. “Which is why I’m not buying this little story of yours.”
I swallow, but straighten my back beneath her scrutiny. “I know it’s a strange story, but I hope you’ll approve of us anyway.” I grab Jason’s hand. He lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of mine. His lips are soft, barely brushing my skin, but the warmth that emits from that single touch cascades over my whole body.
I glance at him, but he’s looking at Granny Mae.
“You have my tentative approval, only because I trust your judgment, Willow.”
Guilt wracks my brain. I’m a terrible granddaughter. I should tell her right now that this is all fake, but I hold back. If something happens, she needs to be able to say she never knew our soon-to-be marriage was a sham.
“Thank you, Mrs. Delmont,” Jason says. “That means a lot.”
“Call me Granny. And don’t thank me yet, boy. Think of this as a trial period. If you treat my Willow right and I don’t find any funny business, then you’ll get my stamp of approval.”
I see Jason smile out of the corner of my eye. “Yes, ma’am. I promise to give Willow whatever she wants and more.”
“Don’t do that.” Granny waves him off. “The girl is spoiled rotten already.”
My mouth drops. “I am not!”
“You’re my only grandbaby, of course you’re spoiled.”
Jason tugs me closer to him. I’m not sure how I feel about all of this physical affection. We didn’t plan for this part.
“Well, I plan on keeping up what you started then. She deserves it.”
Though Granny said otherwise earlier, I can see the approval shining in her eyes. How did he do it? He didn’t even try to flatter her. I can’t believe she’s not pulling her gun on him, or at least pretending to clean it like Grandaddy used to say he would if I brought a boy home.
“You’re right about that. Now tell me about this impromptu wedding of yours. I want all the details. The first being, am I invited?”
Jason and her laugh together, while I sit in shock. Granny is the person I was worried the most about. If we can get this past her, then we might be in the clear. Next week Jason and I will get married, and everything will be settled. The only thing I’ll have to worry about is sharing a house–and a life–with Jason.
I take a shaky sip of coffee. That might be harder than getting everyone to believe us.