Page 156 of Demo
“Oh my God!” I gasp, putting my hands over my mouth. “Are you … Is there a girl? There’s a girl, isn’t there?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lizzie,” Clyde rolls his eyes and sweeps a hand over his hair, reminding me of Knox. “I’m a grandfather. I don’t date girls. I date women. Women who are old … er, older, like me.”
“But you are dating,women?” I practically sing.
“Woman. One woman. Someone I met over the computer.”
“You’re online dating?!” I swat his chest. “How could you have not told me that when I talked to you on the phone?”
Looking embarrassed, Clyde just shrugs. “Emily signed me up for it. She made this page with a bunch of personal information about me, and she made me put on a nice shirt and took a picture of me outside by some tree, and she put it on there.”
“A profile,” I interject.
“Yeah, that. Anyway, I thought it was stupid, but then Joy and I—”
“Joy?” I hop from one foot to the other wringing my hands. “I love that name!”
Clyde smirks, and he has a glint in his eye. “I know, me too. Anyway, we started emailing and talking on the phone, and, well …”
I don’t finish his sentence for him. I don’t push him to continue. I just wait for it to come naturally.
He sighs. “I feel like I have a reason to get up in the morning again. And I thought I would feel bad about feeling that way, but I don’t. I think Monica would want me to feel this way.” He reaches up and twists the rings around the chain he is still wearing around his neck.
“For sure,” I say. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“We’ll have a barbecue one of these days. Bram and Knox say they are happy for me, but I’m sure it’s got to be weird for them.”
“They’ll come around,” I assure him.
Suddenly realizing someone is missing, I look around. “Oh,” I say. “Where’s Kennedy? He didn’t come running out to greet me. Did he forget about me already?”
“No, no. Uh …” Clyde shoves his hands in his pockets. “He’s actually not here. Knox ended up having the day off, so he’s got him. Asked me to ask you to stop by his place to retrieve him.” He waits a beat before looking me in the eye.
“Oh,” I say. “Uh, Knox isn’t staying with you anymore?”
“No. He’s at the house now.”
“The house.” It’s not a question, because I know exactly what house he means.
“Yeah,” Clyde kicks some loose gravel with his foot. “It turned out really great, Lizzie. He wants you to see it.”
“Oh,” I say again, looking around at nothing in particular. “I, um …” I look at Clyde, and I know he knows how hard this is. “I’m not sure I can,” I say honestly.
Clyde steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. “It turned out beautiful, Lyzbeth. The house. It’s … well, you need to see it for yourself. Don’t let anything ruin that for you. Go see the house that you and Knox built together.” I open my mouth to try to protest, but he cuts me off. “It’s your house. Please, go see it.”
***
I can’t believe my eyes. In fact, I don’t think I’ve blinked since I pulled into the driveway moments ago. It’s gorgeous. It looks exactly like it did in my mind, but … more.
It’s not huge. It fits perfectly on the plot of land it sits on. A two-car attached garage is right in front of me. From the driveway, a short walk leads around to a front porch that is just big enough to hold a two-person wooden swing next to a beautiful bay window. Little puffs of purple and yellow flowering plants line the walkway and porch and complement the cool gray siding, which is met about two-thirds of the way down to the ground by stonework. White, vine-like flowers overflow from two hanging baskets on either side of the swing. The front door is a red oak color, and instead of shutters, white trim lines the windows and edges.
I open the door and exit the car, but instead of heading up the front walk, I make my way down the driveway toward the sidewalk, then stroll a few steps, just taking in the property. I see the purple and yellow flowers continue on the other side of the porch and around the corner along the side of the house.
The hum of the garage door opening grabs my attention, and I swing my face in that direction as the door slowly rises and Knox comes into sight. I see his light tan work boots, followed by light-colored fitted jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt. His hands are in his pockets, and he is rocking slightly back on his heels as he stares at the floor, then drags his eyes up to meet mine across the yard. His hair is cropped a little shorter.
We stare at each other, and I feel my own grin before I see his start to take shape. I let out a little laugh and slap a hand to my mouth as I put my other hand on my hip and marinate in all the feels I’m having. I tap my fingers against my jean-clad hip as I bring my other hand away from my mouth and cup my cheek with it, shaking my head back and forth as I look at the stunning home Knox build.
Home. Not house.
