CHAPTER FIFTEEN #3
“You're laughing,” she pointed out.
He lifted his head. “I can't help it.”
Grandma settled deeper into her chair. “I've lived here all my life. People know me.”
“That is exactly what worries me,” Bee replied.
Wes laughed again, and Bee looked between the two of them. Grandma appeared pleased with herself. Wes looked far too entertained by the possibility of strangers being reported to their grandmothers.
“You're both ridiculous,” Bee said.
“You're the one who brought him here,” Grandma reminded her.
Bee turned to Wes before he could respond. “Don't say anything.”
“I wasn't going to,” he replied.
“You were thinking it,” Bee accused.
Wes smiled. “I was thinking your grandma is funny.”
Grandma nodded her approval. “He's learning.”
Bee rolled her eyes, but the tightness in her chest had begun to loosen. Sara's comment was still beneath the video, and more opinions would be waiting the next time Bee refreshed the page. The words no longer felt as if they were the only voices in the room.
She looked at Wes. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For saying what you said,” Bee replied. “For letting me decide whether to post it.”
Wes rested his arm along the back of the couch. “It's your account.”
“Some people would've forgotten that part,” she said.
“I didn't want to take over,” he replied. “I wanted them to hear what I chose.”
Bee smiled. “That's why it mattered.”
Another notification appeared on her screen. She opened it and laughed when a new comment rose toward the top. The message had already collected hundreds of likes.
@melissa.h28: Wes just became the standard. Men, take notes, and don't forget Grandma's doughnuts. ??
Wes read it over her shoulder and groaned. “No.”
Bee tilted the screen toward him. “People have spoken.”
“I don't need to be anybody's standard,” he said.
“Too late,” Bee replied. “You're famous now.”
“I'm not famous,” Wes insisted.
Grandma looked toward them. “What happened?”
“People are praising him again,” Bee explained.
Grandma nodded. “They should.”
Wes turned toward her. “You're supposed to keep me humble.”
“I will,” Grandma promised. “Don't worry.”
Bee laughed and placed her phone face down on the coffee table. The phone continued to vibrate against the wood. For the first time since Sara stopped them on the sidewalk, Bee left it untouched and no longer felt the need to see every new opinion.
Grandma watched the phone vibrate twice before speaking. “People get brave when they think a screen is a wall.”
Wes nodded. “It isn't.”
“No,” Grandma said. “There's a person on the other side.”
Bee tucked her feet beneath her. “Sometimes I think they forget that.”
Grandma's gaze settled on her. “Then you remember who actually knows you.”
Bee looked across the room at the woman who had known her all her life. Then she turned toward Wes, who had noticed the crease between her eyebrows before she realized it was there. His expression held none of the uncertainty strangers kept trying to place between them.
“I have people who know me,” Bee said.
“You do,” Grandma replied.
The phone buzzed again, but no one reached for it. Wes stretched his legs in front of him and rested his arm along the couch behind Bee. She leaned back until her shoulder touched his side.
“I'm still planning the next date,” Wes said.
Bee turned her head toward him. “I never said you weren't.”
“You wanted to go home before I could make sure,” he replied.
“You asked to plan it outside the bookstore, and I said yes,” Bee reminded him. “Sara doesn't get to erase that conversation either.”
Wes smiled. “Good.”
Bee pointed at him. “If your plan is another grocery store parking lot, I'm leaving.”
“You loved that parking lot,” he said.
“I loved the company,” she admitted.
Wes looked at her for a moment. His smile softened as the teasing faded from his face. “That might be the nicest thing you've said to me.”
“Don't get used to it,” Bee replied.
Grandma shook her head from across the room. “You two flirt like teenagers.”
Bee's face warmed. “We're not flirting.”
Grandma looked at Wes. “Are you flirting?”
“Maybe,” Wes said.
Bee stared at him. “You're supposed to deny it.”
He shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
Grandma laughed, and Bee joined her. The sound broke apart the last of the heaviness that had followed Bee home. Wes's hand rested near hers on the cushion, close enough that she could feel the warmth of it.
Bee let her fingers brush his and left them there. Wes looked down, then turned his hand beneath hers. Their fingers settled together without either of them making a joke.
Grandma watched them over the rim of her mug. “I like this boy.”
Bee covered part of her face with her free hand. “Grandma.”
Wes squeezed Bee's fingers. “I like her too.”
Bee lowered her hand and looked at him. His answer warmed her face. She kept her fingers linked with his while the phone vibrated on the table, its sound easier to ignore.
Grandma noticed their joined hands. She lifted her tea and turned her attention toward the dark window, giving them the privacy of pretending she had not seen.