Page 29 of Collins
“No, I’m not dating anyone,” he says after a moment. “How about you? You got a boyfriend who’s going to show up I need to prepare myself for?”
The question isn’t playful. It lands somewhere between curiosity and something more on edge.
The fact that he even cares enough to ask does something to me. I feel like I’m about to lie, but the truth is I do not, in fact, have a boyfriend. There’s just a little more to the story than that, but I’ll save that for another time.
“No boyfriend.”
His deep toffee eyes are barely visible in the darkness, but I can see just enough to know they’re looking right through me.
I can feel it.
CHAPTER 17
collins
THEN
Another busy weekand late nights at work have kept me away from Johnnie for the most part. Sure, I knock on her window nightly for a quick kiss good night, but it just isn’t enough. I’m starting to crave her when we’re apart. She’s everywhere—in the space between my thoughts. My chest starts feeling tight when she’s on my mind, like pressure building up and nowhere for it to go.
Which is why I left work early today to head home and spend the weekend with the girl of my dreams, pissing my brothers off in the process.
About an hour drive and one headache later, I’m pulling into the trailer park. Putting my truck in park, I look up and find Nan outside working in her small garden at the far end of the trailer. She puts a smile on my face every time I see her. There’s something so endearing about her that Campbell, Crandall, and I have felt from the moment we met. The loss of our grandmacombined with our parents being taken away from us makes it feel as though Nan was put in our lives on purpose.
My boots clunk along the cement and into the grass as I make my way toward her. She looks up and smiles, squinting into the lowering sun.
“Hello there, handsome!” Her loud, raspy voice that is completely at odds with her small stature carries across the yard.
I can’t help but laugh at the contrast as I cross the last few feet to her, where she’s leaning on the hand of a shovel.
“Hey, Nan. Let me help you with this.”
She was attempting to bury the roots of what appears to be some sort of flowering shrub at the corner of her flower bed.
She leaves one hand on her shovel for support and puts the other hand on her hip. “If you’re offering to help this old lady out while I get to enjoy the view of you bending over, have at it!”
I shake my head with a smile and wave a finger at her. “You’re a savage, and you know it.” I take a few steps over to the lawn chair beside the small deck leading up to her front door, pick it up, and place it beside Nan.
“Here, you sit.” Taking the shovel from her hand, I gently guide her down to the chair and she relinquishes without argument, surprisingly.
“So, what exactly are we planting? The white blooms on these branches have a name?”
“That’s a dogwood tree, honey. My husband, Ralph—Smitty, to everyone that knew him—loved them. I guess this is my way of keeping him close by.” She doesn’t appear to be sad, but I can hear the slight ache in her tone.
“How long were you and Smitty married?” I don’t look up from the dirt I’m packing around the bottom of the tree.
“Oh, we’re still married, Collins. Just on two different sides of heaven is all.” Her words bring me to a standstill.
“Good lord, Nan. You aiming to make me cry this evening?”
“Women love to see a vulnerable man, Collins. Don’t ever try hiding your feelings.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” I give her a wink just as I finish up the job.
“Well, there you have it. A dogwood tree for Smitty. I bet he loves it.”
We both look it over as I smack the dirt from my hands. I’m pretty sure I spot a tear teetering on the edge of Nan’s eyelid. The sun sinks farther now and there’s a slight breeze that picks up, almost like an approval from up above.
“Now I just need to get myself a new bird feeder to hang out here. Smitty loved Blue Jays. Nothing would make me happier than seeing bright blue feathers on these branches. You know, the day before he died, a single Blue Jay came and landed on my window sill, looking in like it was staring into my soul. Smitty had been sick for a while and his days were numbered at that point. When I saw that bird, I just knew it was a sign he was about to leave me. And then he did.”
