Melinda Curtis - Summer Kisses

“And then we’ll hire her.” Grandpa Ed sounded as if it was a done deal.

But there was something about Becca MacKenzie that poked at Flynn’s subconscious. He could see how his grandfather might be charmed by her warm smile and heart-shaped face. He could see how a man could be distracted by her sleek curves and ribbons of long black hair. But he’d been caught by something in her walnut-brown gaze. Something he had yet to identify. Something that was simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar.

“Knock, knock.” Slade Jennings, Flynn’s friend and one of his business partners, opened the screen door. “There’s the big man.” Slade crossed the living room and shook Edwin’s hand, looking as if it was casual Friday in his black slacks, button-down shirt and yellow paisley tie. That was just the way the financial guru presented himself, even on weekends. “How’re you feeling?”

Grandpa Ed’s smile looked sad. “I’ve been better.”

Flynn handed his grandfather two pills and a bottle of water. “He’ll get better.” He had to.

Grandpa Ed had raised Flynn since he was eight. That was the year his father had gone to prison for armed robbery. The year his mother decided she’d needed a new start in life, one that didn’t include a son who looked exactly like his criminal father. The year Flynn learned that no matter what he did, his grandfather wouldn’t leave him on someone else’s doorstep.

If only Flynn had proven how much that meant to him before this, taken Grandpa Ed on the trip of his dreams to the cities and countries where the old man had made a name for himself in the intelligence community, instead of postponing the trip year after year while Flynn made his fortune.

“I picked up the bed.” Slade smoothed his tie. “Are you ready to move it?”

Grandpa Ed turned questioning eyes toward Flynn.

“I ordered a new bed for you.” One with rails and adjustable positions to keep the swelling in his extremities down.

Years of his grandfather’s military service appeared in the form of stiff shoulders and a commanding tone. “My bed is fine. Just because you’ve made a lot of money doesn’t mean you need to spend it on me.”

The pounding in Flynn’s head intensified. He exchanged a frustrated look with Slade. “I didn’t buy you a hospital bed as a homecoming present. It’s what the doctor ordered. If you don’t manage your edema, you’ll go into congestive heart failure.” And die.

Grandpa Ed’s weakened state from a fall a year ago plus the trifecta of diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol had already tried to shut down his heart twice. The doctors didn’t think he’d survive any heart procedures or live to see Labor Day, less than two months away.

“Oh,” Grandpa Ed settled back down. “In that case, you can put the new bed next to mine. I don’t want my bed moved out.”

Impossible. “There’s no room in there for two beds.”

Grandpa Ed reached for the remote. “Slade, take it back.”

“And while you’re at it, Slade, take my grandfather and drop him off at the nearest hospital. He’s going to need it.” Flynn glared at his grandfather.

His grandfather glared back.

Flynn belatedly remembered stress could end things permanently for Grandpa Ed, as Slade backed slowly toward the door.

“Oh, all right.” Grandpa Ed shook the remote at Flynn. “But don’t you get rid of my bed. I’m going to need it when I get better.”

Slade walked down the hall. “That’s the spirit, Edwin.”

His grandfather had spirit all right and he showed it to them. He showed it when they brought in a new recliner, one that helped him stand and sit. Unnecessary, he maintained. He showed it as they rearranged the furniture so he could navigate the house in his walker. Not how his wife wanted it, he declared.

At one point, Flynn pulled Slade into the kitchen, needing to vent. “Months spent trying to convince Harmony Valley that change is good and I can’t even get my grandfather to accept little changes in his own house!” Ones that would help keep him healthy and safe and alive.

“He’s been in charge most of his life.” Slade peered through the kitchen archway at Edwin, who was snoring almost as loudly as the television news droned on. “This has to be hard.”

It felt harder on Flynn.

“It’s only short-term,” Slade reminded him. “A little change to his diet, a little physical therapy, and he’s back on his feet, right?”

Flynn couldn’t look Slade in the eye as he mumbled, “Right.” He’d made his grandfather a promise—no one else would know the end was near.

As the job candidates started showing up, his grandfather found something objectionable in each one.

“I want Becca,” he’d say as soon as one left.

And Flynn would always reply, “Keep an open mind. The agency stands behind their staff.” He had no idea who stood behind Becca, other than Agnes, who was on the town council.

“I should be allowed to choose,” Grandpa Ed wheezed after the last interview, clearly spent. “She’s not going to be wiping your bottom.”

“And on that note—” Slade gathered the paperwork they’d been reviewing “—I’m outta here.”

After Slade left, Flynn counted ten sledgehammer strikes in his head before speaking. “I’ll ask Becca to come by for an interview tomorrow, after the last interview we have from the agency.” But when Flynn dialed the number on her résumé, it rolled directly to voice mail—not surprising given Harmony Valley didn’t have cell service yet. Just as he was about to leave a message, the house phone rang.

The phone didn’t stop ringing until nine o’clock, as nearly every Harmony Valley resident, of which there weren’t many, wanted to talk to Grandpa Ed and welcome him back.

By then it was too late to call Agnes and ask her about Becca.

CHAPTER TWO

EARLY MONDAY MORNING, Becca stared through the window into what used to be the ice cream parlor on the northern corner of Harmony Valley’s town square. The metal dipping freezers stood empty and forsaken. Cobweb streamers dangled from the ceiling. Most other stores on Main Street were just as deserted and decaying inside.

She rested her head against the cool glass and rubbed her chest.

Abby stood on her hind legs to peer into the store. She dropped to all fours and looked at Becca expectantly, as if asking what they were still doing in Harmony Valley.

“I was hoping, girl.” Hoping that some of her childhood faith in the world and the world’s faith in her would be renewed. Hoping that Flynn’s grandfather would prevail and change Flynn’s mind about the job. That she’d receive a call from them last night or first thing this morning. That maybe this time things would work out.

One thing she definitely was not looking for was love. She’d given up on happily-ever-afters once she’d cast her husband’s ashes into the ocean. She was destined to be alone. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t fill her heart temporarily by caring for someone in need. She’d gotten good at smiling through the loneliness, at saying goodbye and letting go.

Since she’d parked in Agnes’s driveway again last night, she’d checked with Agnes as soon as she was sure she was up. No call came. No second chance presented itself. It was time to stop hoping. Time to figure out how to pick up the pieces of her life elsewhere.

At the south end of town a parade of trucks made the same turn onto a side street. Utility trucks, beat-up work trucks, construction workers with orange coolers strapped to their truck beds. They lined up as if they’d been at the same coffee shop and had left at the same time for the eight o’clock whistle.

Curiosity set Becca’s feet in motion.