Meemaw
June MacCord’s granddaughter slips through the front door, leaving just the screen door closed and clutching a grease-stained take-out bag.
June leans forward from her perch on the couch. Her ears heard the familiar noise of her neighbor’s truck in the driveway, and her keen eyes take in Brooke’s face.
“Brookie?” June’s voice calls, concern for her granddaughter mounting. “What happened?”
Brooke hesitantly steps forward, unsure how to navigate this conversation with her grandmother. “Your car had trouble.”
June’s eyebrow arches. “What kind of trouble?”
“Your gas tank fell out.”
June laughs. “Who needs that anyway?”
Confusion flashes across Brooke’s face. “It’s kind of integral to a vehicle.”
June sobers. “How did you get home then?”
Brooke flushes, and June knows why, but she waits patiently for Brooke to admit how she arrived back at her mountain home.
“Beck…” Brooke swallows. “Gave me a ride home.”
“Is the good doctor just ‘Beck’ to you now?”
Brooke nods, and June does her best to hide a smile behind her hand.
“Well goodness, me,” June supplies. “I guess we better figure out what to do with that car of mine.”
Brooke swallows. “I hope you don’t mind, Meemaw, but Beck’s friend—the mechanic, Ben—is helping.”
“You met Benjamin Painter?” June’s delight is unconcealed.
“He’s such a strapping young man. Shame about his sister running off and leaving Beck at the altar all those years ago though.
Not sure how they’ve been friends through all that, but I suppose you also met Logan Manns too?
Probably with some tourist woman. That man is all charm.
Benjamin is strong and smart, but Beckett…
” June trails off, shifting her gaze to the front door, where Doctor Beckett Whistler’s shocked face turns away, and he stomps down the porch steps.