Page 16 of Grumpy Biker's Bride
It takes her a long time. Long enough that I get the second batch in and my heart finishes relocating to my chest. Then her footsteps cross the gravel, and the door clicks shut behind her. When I turn around she's standing inside with her suitcase at her feet, crying without making any noise at all.
“I forgot it was Wednesday. I forgot you'd be... I'm just so tired.”
“Sit down, honey.”
“Don't be kind to me yet.” But she gulps, then sits and takes a deep breath. I give her my handkerchief.
“Grandma’s discharge has conditions. She needs a ground floor room… people there during the day… therapy. I can't make Grandma’s recovery part of the deal. And I sat up all night trying to write you a letter and every single version came out wrong…”
She runs out of words for the first time since I've known her.
She hands me an envelope with one word on the front.Caleb.
I read it twice. Then I fold it, put it in my shirt pocket, button the pocket, and look at her sitting there braced for the weather.
“I couldn't hate you with a manual and lessons,” I say.
“Hawk…”
“You’ll let me finish, because you know words cost me double.” I pull the stool around so we're knee to knee, and I take her cold hands in mine. “Saying it out loud now so there's no confusion. I love you, Taryn. Every road I take ends with me looking for you.”
She makes a sound, half hiccup, half sob.
“Honey, you've got the problem upside down. You think you have to give your grandma what she needs on your own. You're not choosing between June and us. There's no between. Bring her home. We’ll look after her.”
“Bring her…” She stares at me. “Hawk, I can't just…”
“You can and you will. We’ll pick her up together in my truck.”
“She will absolutely complain about your driving.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“But the room, the plan, they need it in writing, where would she even…”
The back door bangs open. Viv storms in, wearing silk pajamas and studded driving gloves, and brandishing a note in one fist.
“One croissant owing?” Her voice could strip paint. “ONE CROISSANT, chérie? C'est pas vrai! I read this at my coffee pot and lost a year of my life.” Then she has Taryn wrapped up in silk and fury, rocking her side to side, and over Taryn's shoulder she looks at me. I nod, and the woman who's been this town's heart for thirty years nods back.
“The garden room,” she announces. “No stairs. Roses out the window. Me there all day being nosy in two languages. Your grandmother will be spoiled to ruin, and there's an end to it. Write that on your plan.”
Lila arrives for her shift with her daughter, looks at us, and then starts making coffee. Marvin shuffles in just before the diner opens, taking in the scene.
“Well, shoot,” he says. “I was saving this for Friday, but. Gus phoned. The minute he's healed, he's taking the Grand Canyon trip, isn’t sure if he wants to work again full-time. I need a head cook, permanent, full freight.” He points a trembling finger at Taryn.
Taryn’s eyes are filled with tears. “What about Rotmere?”
“Nobody's buying this block.” I say it quietly.
Marvin nods. “You can say that again.”
The door bangs open one more time. Savage, in lightning-bolt pajama pants and one boot, is carrying a baseball bat with murder in his eyes.
“Viv texted the group chat. Emergency at Marvin's.” The bat lowers. “...Did someone die?”
“Nobody died, you lunatic,” Lila says. “Sit down, there's coffee.”
So that's how it goes, the worst morning of my life turning into one of the best inside of an hour. Taryn calls Mrs. Oakley as soon as the office opens. I stand behind her with my hands on her shoulders the whole call, and when she hangs up she tips her head back against me and just breathes.
