Chapter 10 #2
Flipping his hand over, he linked her fingers with his and gave a little squeeze. “If you really want to know, you may find something to point you in the right direction among all her boxes.”
“Maybe.”
The front door of the house swung open and Walter came into view. He threw his arms in the air in a what’s-going-on gesture.
“We better head inside before he storms out here,” Dax said. “He can be a bit of a pistol.”
“Can’t wait to meet him.” She severed their connection and grabbed Frankie, then hopped out of the truck.
Dax inhaled a steadying breath and led her to the house.
“Well, what in the world is that wiggly little thing in your arms?” Walter asked.
“This is Frankie, and I’m Vanessa Kemp. Thank you for having us over.” Vanessa sat Frankie on the worn wooden planks of the porch and extended a hand.
Walter took it and gave it a small shake. “Are you kidding? It’s not every day I get to spend the evening with someone other than this rascal. You’re giving me a real treat. Let’s head in. The chili’s hot and the game’s about to start.”
Frankie butted his head against Walter’s legs.
“Are you a dog or a cat?” Walter chuckled and scratched Frankie behind the ears before leading everyone inside. “I’ve got my stuff all ready. Dax, grab your girl a bowl and something to drink. Use those manners I tried to teach you.”
Grinning, Vanessa raised her brows high and struggled not to laugh.
Dax just shook his head. “Told you. A pistol,” he whispered and made a beeline for the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
Walter shooed her away. “Sit with me and keep an old man company. Dax can handle everything.”
“I’ll be right there,” Dax said, watching the two of them step into the connected living room. He hurried to fill two bowls and grab two waters then met them there. “Water, okay?”
“Perfect.”
His dad had already retreated to his recliner, his meal on the TV tray beside him. He fiddled with the remote until the baseball game took up the screen.
Dax made sure Vanessa had everything she needed then sat beside her.
Frankie chose to sit in front of Walter, staring at him with his big bug eyes.
“So, Vanessa…” Walter began. “I’m glad you’re here, but I have one very important question. Do you like baseball?”
“I’m a Cubs fan, sir. Born and raised in Chicago. My mom and I tried to make it to Wrigley Field at least once a year.” She spooned a little bit of beef and tomatoes and took a small bite. “This is delicious.”
“She likes baseball and my chili. She’s a keeper, even if her choice of team is a bit questionable.”
“Pops.” Dax mentally kicked himself for bringing Vanessa over.
“Excuse me? My team is a national treasure, and I have no reason to ever question my love of the Cubbies.”
Walter let loose a hoot of laughter. “You’re a spitfire. Just like your grandmother.”
Vanessa’s mouth curved into a small smile. “You knew my grandma?”
“Sure did. You remind me of her, which isn’t surprising since your mama was the spitting image of Justine.”
“You knew my mother, too?”
The lines in Walter’s face softened. “Not well. But she was a sweet soul. I’m sorry you lost her, and Earl as well. I’m sure your grandpa would be thrilled you’re here though. I wouldn’t be surprised if you feel his presence in that old house. He was awfully proud of that land.”
“I hope he’d be proud of what I plan to do with it.”
“As long as you’re doing what you love and respecting the land, he’d be proud. He was a good man. I was sorry to see him go.”
Dax’s nerves settled. More chatter filled the room as they ate and watched the game. The innings stretched on, and their bowls emptied. Frankie managed to claim a spot on Walter’s lap, snoring away much to his dad’s delight.
When the sound of Walter’s snores matched Frankie’s, Dax stood and carried all their dishes into the kitchen.
Vanessa leaned against the counter. “This was nice.”
“Glad you thought so.” Dax rinsed the dishes then left them in the sink. “I wasn’t sure if this would turn out to be a big mistake.”
Tilting her head to the side, her hair spilled over her shoulder and her eyes widened. “Why would it be?”
He shrugged and stood beside her. “You saw my dad. There’s no telling what will come out of his mouth.”
“He’s great,” she said, knocking her shoulder against his. “I really enjoyed him, and he got me thinking. Well, you both did, actually.”
“Should I be scared?”
“No, but I should be.”
He frowned down at her. “What do you mean?”
She let out a long breath. “Well, talking with your dad made me realize that so many people around here knew my grandpa, knew my mom. Yeah, I’ll talk to Autumn, but there’s only so much she’ll be aware of, and all of that through stories. But there must be ways to learn more. To uncover more.”
“Is this about what you found in the garden? I doubt the person who buried them told a bunch of people.”
“Although that’s going to bug me, it’s not what I mean. I want to finally know what really made my mom leave town. Figure out why she never came back. A cloak of secrecy has always been wrapped around my family. Maybe it’s time to finally unwrap it.”
He was silent for a beat, thinking back to secrets that had held his own family hostage for so long.
“In my experience, secrets always find a way out. And when they do, they can either heal you or inflict even more pain—sometimes both. You might not like what you find. Are you prepared to deal with that?”
“I think so.”
“Then good luck. Where will you start? I doubt your uncle will be a wealth of knowledge.”
“No, but my aunt might. And I can keep going through Mom’s boxes, look for friends who may still be around.”
“You can try the library, too,” he said. “The local paper has always kept close tabs on the happenings of the town. The library would have old articles to comb through. That could give you a glimpse of your grandparents as well.”
“I love that idea! Is the library close?”
“It’s right off Main Street. I can take you, if you want.” He tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but damn, he liked having reasons to see her.
Her instant smile was enough to tell him he hadn’t overstepped. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
He wouldn’t call it a date this time. Tonight had gone well, but the next time he took her out, he’d put forth a bit more effort—and his father wouldn’t be an audience.
Frankie trotted into the kitchen and whined.
“I think that’s our cue to head home,” Vanessa said.
He hated to take her back to an empty house, to be away from her, but she was right. The announcers on the television had moved onto post-game talk. She’d had a long day and was probably exhausted. As much as he wanted her to stay, it made more sense to call it a night.
Peeling himself away from her side, he swept Frankie off the floor and ruffled the fur on the top of his head. “All right, you little weasel. Let’s get going.”