CHAPTER 26 BEN
“Where are we going?” Kaylee asks the next morning. We just finished breakfast and went for a walk with Buddy and I told her to get in the Scout when we got back to the house.
“I want you to meet someone,” I say, and I scratch Buddy behind the ears as I let him back into the house.
His bowl is full of food and he has access to the doggie door if he needs to head outside.
He’ll be okay for a few hours, and I asked George to check in on him when he stops by the stables to care for the horses.
We head back toward town, which is probably a mistake considering the symbolism the language arts teacher that lives inside Kaylee pointed out to me over scrambled eggs this morning.
Here in my home, we find peace. We make up after we fight. We’re open and honest with one another—with what we want and with what we need. We’re isolated in solitude, and when it’s just the two of us, everything is pretty damn near perfect.
But as soon as we leave this sanctuary, reality storms back in. Outside forces are working hard to tear us apart. Billy Peters, Tatum Richards, my own damn mother…even the Dalton family, to some extent, even though they don’t realize it.
I’m concerned it’s those outside forces that are going to eventually work hard enough to cause us to throw in the towel early.
On the other hand, having this time with her at my place is bonding us in a new way I hadn’t expected.
We worked through our first obstacle. There will be more—of that I’m certain.
We’re both stubborn, and we will butt heads again.
But what happened yesterday also makes me feel like we can take whatever is thrown at us.
Except that one thing neither of us is willing to bend on.
Her feet are propped up on the dashboard as she leans back in her seat and sings along with the country station.
The windows are down, and her hair whips around her, and when I glance over and see her with her eyes closed as she belts out her favorite part of the song, I can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, I don’t hate country music as much as I used to.
An hour and a half later, we’re pulling into the driveaway of a small house not far from my mother’s. A wreath hangs on the front door, and I recognize the signature design. A different wreath hangs on this door for every major holiday.
Cooking and crafting—Gramma’s two favorite C words.
“Who am I meeting today?” she asks as we stand at the front door and I knock.
I just raise my brows and smile as we hear some rustling coming toward the door.
The door is thrown open, and there stands Gramma Jean, looking at me with…anger? “Benjamin Joseph Olson, you’ve been in town three days already and you’re just now coming to see me?” She swats my arm. “What in the world is wrong with you, child?”
I laugh, and Kaylee joins me.
“I’m so sorry, Gramma,” I say, throwing my arms dramatically around her and squeezing her tightly. God, does it feel good to see her again. “Does it make it any better that I brought someone for you to meet?”
“A little,” she concedes, moving a critical eye over in Kaylee’s direction.
A little twinge of nervousness pings my chest. I want Gramma to like her.
I’m not sure why it matters…but it does. Her approval means everything to me.
“This is Kaylee,” I say.
“Is this the girl you were telling me about?” she asks.
I nod, and Kaylee turns toward me. “You were telling her about me?”
“Don’t get a big head about it,” I say. “I tell her a lot of things."
Kaylee looks a little disappointed as Gramma raises a brow at me.
“Not about girls," she says pointedly more to Kaylee than to me.
She has a point. I rarely discuss women with Gramma, but for some reason, Kaylee came up. More than once.
“I’m Jean, but you can call me Gramma like Benny does.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Gramma,” Kaylee says, and she moves in for a hug. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you, and your lemon chicken recipe is out of this world.” Something inside me feels at peace as I watch Gramma and Kaylee hug.
Tatum never hugged her. Tatum didn’t even bother to give her the time of day, and Gramma made sure I knew how she felt about that.
She has a sixth sense about reading people, I swear.
I can’t wait to watch these two interact so I can break it down later when I get Gramma alone.
“Come in, come in,” Gramma says, and we follow her into the house. I can hear the television blaring even from the front porch, and I sort of wonder how she even heard my knock on the door over the volume.
The walls are filled with pictures of my dad and Uncle Chevy when they were kids, of my Gramps and her throughout their relationship before he passed away, and of myself—both from when I was a kid and since I’ve started playing professionally.
Virtually every place to sit in the house has a blanket on it—the couch has one draped over an arm, the recliner that Gramma prefers has one draped over the back, and even the couch in the front room that never gets used has one folded and rolled into a neat little arrangement.
It looks exactly the same as it did the last time I visited…as every time I’ve visited this place since the day I was born with the exception of new photos going up on the walls upon occasion.
She settles into the recliner and drapes the blanket over her lap, and she nods toward the couch for us to sit.
She clicks a button on the remote and the television turns off.
“Interrupted my QVC but I’ll let it slide since I don’t have occasion to wear all that fancy jewelry anymore.
Unless you two are here to tell me when the wedding’s going to be. ”
Kaylee shifts uncomfortably.
“She knows the truth,” I tell Kaylee.
“That you two are pretend dating for the media but really dating but pretending you’re not in front of her family?” Gramma says, and Kaylee laughs.
“That pretty much sums it up,” I say.
“So the engagement, then,” Gramma says. “Real or pretend?”
I stare down at my hands even though I feel Kaylee’s gaze on me. “Real for me,” I say quietly. I glance up at Gramma Jean, and her eyes soften. “I’m in love with this girl.”
Kaylee reaches over and loops her arms around my bicep. She kisses my cheek. “I’m in love with him, too,” she says.
“I see it,” Gramma says. “Benny, you’ve got the twinkle in your eye I’ve always wanted for you, and sweet Kaylee, you have stars in your eyes when you look at him. A match made in the heavens.” She smiles fondly at the two of us, and my chest fills with warmth at her approval.
I just wish I knew how to carry that feeling with me forever. Because for as real as it is for both of us, we’re still taking it a day at a time. We still have a huge question mark that will need to be answered at some point.
Gramma starts humming some song, and then she looks between the two of us. “Anyone up for making some blueberry pie? It was on my agenda for the afternoon.”
“We’d love to,” Kaylee answers for us. “But you should know I am a hot mess in the kitchen.”
Gramma chuckles. “Good thing my Benny knows what he’s doing.” She winks at Kaylee. “He can show you a thing or two.”
Kaylee looks over at me, and Gramma’s right. There are definitely stars in her eyes. “He already has,” she says softly.
We get started on the pie, and I take a backseat as I watch Gramma teach Kaylee how to roll the dough, how to combine the ingredients that make up the filling, and how to create the lattice pattern across the top.
Once the pie is in the oven, Kaylee excuses herself to the restroom.
“Well?” I ask Gramma.
She comes over and gives me a hug. “I’m so happy for you, my sweet boy. I can see how much you two love each other.”
“That makes me happy, Gram. But I’m scared.”
“Why?” she asks, squeezing my arm as she lets me go.
I shrug. “Everything ends. You know? And I don’t know how to do relationships. Like yesterday, for example. We got into our first real fight because I fucked up royally and I don’t know how to make it up to her.”
She narrows her eyes at me and smacks me in the arm. “What did you do?”
“I’d rather not say, but I need a grand gesture.”
She purses her lips. “Listen, sugar, because I’m about to drop some wisdom.
It’ll only end if you allow it to. You hear me?
You take care of that special girl. You come up with something that shows her how much you care about her.
You do something that is meaningful for her.
I know you, and I know you’ll come up with something.
” She boops me on the nose, and I chuckle.
Gramma Jean might be the only person in the world who can get away with booping The Big O on the nose.