4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Grayson
“Salt. Flour. Vanilla essence. Coffee.”
My mind runs through the list I jotted down this morning before leaving the house as I walk down the aisles of the Ashwood Market.
The store, which was renovated only a few years ago, has a more modern feel to it, with proper shelving, stainless steel fridges and freezers, produce stands, and even a spot for alcohol at the back.
Before it looked like it was one bad storm away from collapsing, with splinter-threatening shelves, fridges that were so noisy Reid used to wear headphones every time he stepped through the door, and there was always a lingering smell like petrol and something tangy.
Strolling down the aisle, I grab a jar of instant coffee and pick up a bag of ground beans.
We don’t like to say that we’re coffee snobs, but I fear that’s what we’ve become.
Walking around, grabbing the remaining items from my list, I decide to get a few extra things for Laynie.
Since she’s busy and seems to have more on her mind than usual with Golden Hour, I figured this might help her out a little.
Alleviate some of that stress she’s always carrying around with her that she thinks I never notice.
I get to the register where Doris stands—Ashwood’s current bingo champion on Tuesday nights when the town hall holds ‘friendly’ matches for retired people—wearing her red smock and name badge big enough for someone to spot on the other side of the street.
Grey hair pushed back into a bun, slightly crooked glasses, prominent cheekbones and sun-bleached skin, she smiles as soon as I drop my basket on the counter.
“If it isn’t Grayson, the most handsome one of the Lawsons.” She says this to each of us every time we come in.
“Hi, Doris,” I reply, taking things out of the metal basket.
She picks up the coffee jar, and I expect the register to beep, but when it doesn’t, I peer up to see her watching me.
“Ahh…” I say slowly. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, no.” She scans the first item before placing it in the paper bag. “I just thought I had something to tell you. Candice mentioned something this morning, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
It’s been three years since Candice, my grandmother, passed away peacefully.
Doris mentions stuff like this on occasion, like she can’t remember what year it is, or recall how old some memories are. It’s sad, really, because I’ve known her my entire life, and to see someone slip like this…
“Maybe that I passed my exams and finished high school?” I offer, hoping that was the memory she’s recalling.
The relief on her face says that I was right. Her painted finger snaps, and a beam covers her wrinkled face. “That’s it! And well done, we are all so very proud of you.”
“Thank you, Doris.” I genuinely mean it. She’s always been so generous and sweet. She even babysat us when we were children up until Cole made her burn her hand on boiling water. Mum was furious and grounded us for two weeks.
After that, Doris didn’t come around to babysit, but she’s still nice when we see her in town. It’s possible she doesn’t remember the incident, but I like to think that she’s too sweet to hold a grudge.
Scanning the rest of the items, she goes on to tell me about her niece who just learnt to walk.
I see the joy sparking in her brown eyes, and I’d hate to be the one to tell her that her niece is almost four now.
I go along with it, nodding and smiling, asking a few questions, because I would never not give her the time to speak.
Just because she’s elderly and not as sharp as she once was, doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a little company and a giggle.
“You have a lovely day, Grayson. Say hi to Candice when you see her next.”
“I will just for you, Doris. Have a good day.” I pick up my bag and make my way out to the street. It’s a classic autumn day, with a gentle sun, light greying clouds, and leaves dusting the footpath and road. The smell of pine, smoke, and dew hangs thickly in the air.
Shutting the door to the store behind me, I turn towards my car when I almost knock someone onto their behind. My hand reaches out, and I grab Paisley’s arm, holding her a foot above the ground. Eyes wide, she clings to me as I give an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, I should look before I step.”
“It’s my fault too.” I haul her onto her feet. She wipes her hands on her jeans before looking around and plucking her phone off the footpath. The screen isn’t cracked, so that’s a positive. “I wasn’t watching either.”
My head shakes. “Didn’t your mum ever tell you not to text and drive?” A hint of amusement coats my voice.
Her eyes roll, but a small smirk appears. “Did your mum not show you to look both ways before turning?”
My tongue runs around the front of my teeth. Paisley grins proudly. “Touche.”
“Glad we could come to an agreement.”
Huffing out a laugh, I go to step around her when I feel Paisley’s hand on my arm. Peering at her, all humour has been wiped from her features, and my own grin drops.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Oh, no.” Her hand falls away, sliding into her denim jacket. “Nothing like that. But I wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
Tucking thick, coiled hair behind her ears, Paisley glances around for a moment like she’s making sure nobody is overhearing us. “I was going to ask you the next time you were in the pub, but now that I have you, I have a favour to ask.”
From the way her voice has dipped, all joking pushed aside, I get the sense that this favour is something massive for her.
“It’s fine. Go for it.”
She clears her throat. “I know that you’re busy with the ranch and everything, but my brother has been asking Mum for months now for a dirt bike.
” Her eyes find mine, and they appear to be glassier than they were a moment ago.
My posture straightens. “I was wondering if you would have some time to let him come learn to ride one at the ranch? It’s just that we don’t have a big backyard, and Mum can’t—”
“Absolutely.”
Paisley blinks, her mouth slightly ajar.
I frown. Did she think I’d say no?
“Are you sure? I feel like it’s a lot to ask.”
“Yes,” I drawl, grinning. “I’d be happy to. I still have bikes from when I started riding, so he can start on them. Wait, which brother are we talking about?”
Her smirk returns. “Knox. The youngest one.”
I give my head a small shake. “And how many of you are there again?”
“Six,” she states. “I’m the second oldest. Knox is the baby.”
“Ahh… Sorry, I can never remember how many siblings you have.”
“It’s a big family.” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Nodding, I slip my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her. “Well, I’d be happy to help Knox. Can you put his number in?”
Taking it, Paisley fills in the details before shooting Knox a quick text explaining the situation before handing it back.
“Thank you so much for this. It’ll really help me out. I can pay—”
“No need. I’m happy to do it.”
“But—”
My head tilts. “Paisley, I’m not going to let you. I’m happy to do it for the fun of it, and maybe I just want to help out your brother.”
Her grin fully forms this time, and it’s surprisingly bright for a girl who barely smiles. “Thank you, Grayson.” She turns to leave, before looking back over her shoulder. “Oh, and I will try drop him off as much as I can, but if I can’t—”
“I can pick him up. Don’t worry about it.”
Giving me a grateful smile, Paisley heads towards Ashwood Afterhours for her shift.
I spin towards my car. Time to drop everything at home before heading to Laynie’s.
My heart jolts a little, my nerves buzzing to life. I have trouble controlling them as I jump behind the wheel, excited to be spending some time with my best friend, and hoping to get to the bottom of what’s stressing her out so much.
Is it just the cafe? Or is it something else that she’s not telling me?