It sounded like he’d spit something out. “Might strain somethin’ tryin’ to think too hard. Never did know whether to check his butt or scratch his watch. You just keep yer distance from that ’n.”
“No worries, Grampy. Piper and Amber are here at the store with me to get things ready to open our doors again tomorrow.”
“How ’bout Danny? Where’s he?”
“I’ll see him later today.” She didn’t want to talk about Danny quite yet. Grampy would hear something in her voice. He’d know. “Tell me how you’re feeling. Are you eating and keeping up your strength?”
“I’m right as rain, child. The witch next door come over and gimme a good supper last night—”
“Grampy!” she chastised. “Don’t call Miss Maizie a witch.”
“—’n I had some brekkers down at Tilley’s just this mornin’.”
She closed her eyes, seeing him there at his regular table by the window, a chipped white cup holding strong black coffee gripped with both hands, ham and eggs, biscuits and grits on two separate plates. Predictable . . . and comforting.
“That’s good,” she said. “And you took your medication?”
“Yah. Now stop interrogatin’ or I’ll quit answerin’ yer calls.”
“Sorry.” She smiled. “You know what I was thinking about this morning, Grampy?”
“What’s ’at?”
“As I was shining up the front windows of the store, I remembered how I’d hurry through my Saturday morning chores so we could get on to spending the afternoon together. Remember that day you were building the table for the sunporch and you taught me how to use the little bubble thingie?”
“Ain’t no bubbles in my shed, girl.”
“You know. You set it down and the bubble tells you if something’s straight?”
Her grandfather let out a hearty laugh—and her body surged with joy at the sound of it.
“The level,” he said. “Called a level. Ain’t no bubble thing.”
Jessie bit down on her smile. “Whatever. I loved those Saturday afternoons when we’d go crabbing or fishing, or you’d let me come into the woodworking shed with you.”
“Happy days,” he remarked softly.
“I’m so sorry I left Slidell the way I did, Grampy. I feel like I wasted so much time I could have spent with you.”
“Enough o’ that. You go mind your p’s and q’s fer tomorrah. Send my best to Danny and the girls.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “I love you.”
“Love you back.”
And with that, he abruptly severed the connection.
***
Funny how a doc handin’ a fella an egg timer on his life can bring up the memories like it do.
Days been runnin’ together some, time tickin’ away faster ’n a dog shot through a barn. I figger Jessie knowed it too with all her ruminatin’ ’bout days in the shed and out on the banks o’ Pontchartrain while she was knee-high to a grasshopper. But that’s the way this thing works I guess.
I been rememberin’ some, too. ’Bout Jessie’s mama—my girl April. Cancer stole her, too. Simple, sweet girl, my April was. She didn’t care two hoots and a holler ’bout frilly dresses ’n shiny shoes ’n such. Used to wonder how she birthed a child like our Jessie.
“She’s an original, Daddy,” she used to say. “Don’t know how I’m gonna be what she needs in a mama.”
Knew she’d do just fine, just like she did. And when she couldn’t do it no more, it was my turn to pick up the reins and steer a spell. Musta done somethin’ right, the two of us, ’cause Jessie turned out purdy good. A little slow on the uptake with that varmint she married, but she’s come around, thank the Lord. A boy like that Danny Callahan, that’s who I been prayin’ for lot longer ’n he been in Jessie’s life.
Just hope I live long enough to see ’er make an honest man outta him.
Chapter 2
2
Danny twisted his hair into a short ponytail at the back of his head and grabbed Carmen—his favorite surfboard—from the rack on the outside wall. Frank stopped to stretch all of his lanky, hundred-and-twenty-some pounds from his pencil-thin tail to the perfect point of classic cropped ears standing erect at the top of his head. The dog shimmied at the close of the task, lips flapping like a flag in a strong wind, and he took his place next to Danny, smiling up at him.
“Ready to hit the waves, buddy?”
As he led the way across the sand, Carmen tucked under his arm and Frank matching him stride for stride, Danny thought about the day he’d come across the dog limping up the lonesome mountain road between Yucaipa and Big Bear. The stark black-and-white of his Harlequin coat had been lost under a thick layer of dirt that made him appear solid gray, and his dark eyes—now wide and bright—gave Danny one lackluster flash when he pulled over to the side of the road and offered the dog a bite of his sandwich to lure him into the Jeep. He’d had to pull over yet again to close up the open Jeep after Frank had tried to make a break for it around the first of many sharp turns.
Tossing his board to the sand near the water’s edge, Danny sat on it and stared out at the churning waves. When Frank dropped next to him, mirroring his position and towering a good three inches taller, Danny snaked his arm around the dog’s neck. He set his slobbery chin to rest on the slope of Danny’s shoulder.
“There they are. A boy and his dog,” Riggs called as he crossed the beach toward them, and Danny chuckled. Frank had given up barking at Aaron Riggs’s arrival many mornings ago. Ruffling the dog’s ears, Riggs added, “Morning, Frankenstein. Sup?”
“Squat a minute,” Danny said, and his friend dropped his board and flopped down on it.
“What’s going on?”
“I want to talk for half a minute.”
“Must be important if you’re making ten-footers wait on you.”
Danny grinned. “I asked Jessie to marry me.”
Riggs didn’t flinch, his focus trained straight ahead on the beckoning waves. Finally, “You did what now?”
“Yeah, I popped the question.”
“She pop an answer back at you?” he asked, turning sideways on his board.
“Sure.”
“And?”
“She’s thinking about it.”
Riggs let out a belly laugh and
