“You two laugh,” I warned, “but all it takes is one person, and you’ll be right in the muck and mire with a lovesick heart like me.”
“Yuck,” Grady said under his breath. He gave me a hug from behind. “I’m outta here. I’ve got some errands to run. You can help Pops clean up since I delivered him to you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”
After he left, and the dishes were being washed, I watched my dad dry off the skillet. “Do you think it’s a bad idea to want that? To still be with him?”
“I think if it’s what you want, it’s not a matter of right or wrong, honey.”
What a dad-like answer. I sighed dramatically. “Well if you’re going to be rational …”
Overlooking the dramatics, he gave me a stern look. “And you shouldn’t be making any decisions because you’re worried about me or my job, young lady.”
“Clearly, I was right to worry. Look at what he did to the Haywoods.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know Magnolia’s momma,” he pointed out. “Bobby Jo is good people. J.T. knows better than to go muckin’ around in her store. If he comes after me there, you let me worry about it. Got it?”
I nodded.
He chuckled at my miserable expression, slinging an arm around my shoulder for a squeeze. “I think if you love him, really love him, then it’s okay to want it.” His hands, rough from years of back-breaking work, cupped my arms and turned me to face him. “But only if he treats you, loves you, respects you the way that you deserve. If my daughter can have a man like that in her life, then I’ll always root for him too. Just like I am for you.”
I slid forward to hug him tightly, and he kissed the top of my head.
“I’m glad I moved here, Pops,” I told him. “Sometimes a girl just needs her dad.”
He didn’t answer right away, but his arms squeezed tightly, and my hair ruffled when he exhaled noisily. “I’m glad you did too. Sometimes a man needs his daughter, Gracey.”
I thought back, for the first time since it happened, to that phone call from the night before I left. The one I’d revisit more than once in my head, as I tried to sort out how I got to that point.
“I guess I didn’t really show Green Valley that I was a force to be reckoned with, did I?”
He pulled away so he could look at me. “Honey, I don’t count you out for a second. I have a feeling you’re just getting started.”
Chapter 53 Tucker
I must have had a sign over my head, a giant cosmic warning in blood-red neon, because as I hammered and painted and built that fucking kissing booth, everyone gave me a wide berth.
"That wood do something to piss you off, Haywood?"
A glance over my shoulder, and I glowered heavily at Maxine.
"Ooh, honey, I haven't gotten a look that dirty since before my husband died. You might want to be careful who you're aiming that toward."
My shoulders slumped heavily, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt. "I'm sorry, Miss Barton. My mood is, uh, a bit prickly."
"Mmmhmm, I can tell." She glanced at the mess around me. "You gonna have this ready to go tomorrow? This is a big-ticket item, you know. I've heard people talking about it everywhere I go. Makes me glad I don't give a rat's ass if people think it's a bad idea."
I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. "I want to be like you when I grow up, Ms. Barton, I can tell you that much."
"Trust me, you don't. People tolerate me because they think I'm scary, but the truth is that I'm just a normal person who stopped caring about what people said about me."
"Probably a smart choice," I said. Pulling another nail from the front pocket of my jeans, I wedged it in my mouth and fixed the red, glittery sign onto the top of one post. A few taps, and it was in, and I moved to the other side, giving it the same treatment. Maxine stayed quiet behind me, but I felt her watchful gaze on me as I worked.
"Your sour mood have something to do with Miss Buchanan?"
The hammer paused mid-swing, and I took a deep breath, refocused my energy, and tried not to nail my thumb down.
As if I could narrow down my mood to two words like that. Something to do with her, yes.
It was her.
How badly I screwed up.
It was my parents.
My job.
Everything.
I still hadn’t been able to face my momma after what happened in the garage. I wasn’t ready to explain what happened after she left, because I had every intention of fixing it, and the last thing I needed was for her to draw an entirely new, negative impression of Grace.
Because simmering under the surface of everything—my job, my parents, the whole damn situation—was Grace. How badly I missed her.
“Can I help you with something related to this booth, Maxine? Because I’ve got work to do.”
She whistled. “You called me by my first name, young man. You must be cranky to forget the manners your momma raised you with.”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. Shame didn’t go down easily when you tried to swallow it, which I’d learned pretty clearly the last two and a half days. I was miserable, and no doubt Grace was miserable too, but I still couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to fix the mess of my own making.
She was right. Every word Grace had said was right.
And I had to figure out how to choose her, the right way. Not in the way that was convenient or caused the least amount of damage.
“I’ll take that as your second apology,” she said.
“Appreciate that.” The hammer made a few
