Then she'd ghosted.
And now, if her entwined fingers and googly eyes with that guy meant anything, she'd found someone else.
A sardonic mixture of amusement and annoyance filled me. If she found someone else, good for her. But the timelines were pretty squished. She would likely have known about that guy while messaging me—unless, of course, they moved at light speed. Our date was only a week and a half ago, it's not like it had been an eternity. She'd been very careful with me, too, and seemed that way in general. Was she hesitant because she had this other guy on the line at the same time?
Had it been a pity date with me?
She had no obligation to me, of course. Let her date five guys at the same time if she wanted to. But the same frustration arose again regardless. Why was I always the loser in this equation? The one that didn't get the girl?
I must be missing something.
When Maverick slipped to the bathroom, his prosthetic legs drawing a few surprised stares, Abby looked up. Her eyes tangled with mine for half a moment. Shock came to her face first, then uncertainty, and finally a forced, tight smile. She turned back to her date, but her eyes flickered to mine a few times. She shifted in her chair, although she tried to hide her discomfort.
Oh, yeah.
That was definitely guilt.
You led me on, I thought, and then you ghosted me. Hope that feels good.
"R-ready to give me money?" Dagny asked, hand held out. I gave her my credit card between two fingers.
"I'll get both of ours here." Even though I didn't have the money for it, I gestured toward Abby and her date with a tip of my head. "And put those two on my card too, but don't tell them until they leave. Just tell the woman it's a parting gift from a friend."
Dagny snatched the card and swiped it. "Got it, boss."
Maverick returned, we parted with a handshake, and I left the diner without another backward glance. Closure felt good, but an unforgettable exit from a woman's life felt even better.
5 Stella Marie
“Stella Marie?”
A smile broke my lips, the first true one in weeks. “Hey, grandma.”
“How are you?”
Her warm voice, smooth as honey, made my stomach catch. I settled on the edge of my bed with a sigh. Just hearing her eased my prickling stomach, which felt constantly on edge these days.
“I’m good. How are you?”
“My stock has dropped,” she muttered. “I'm not happy about it.”
With a laugh, I sprawled back on the bed. My cabin door was propped open, and one window cracked, admitting a warm autumn breeze that shuffled through the little cabin. It smelled roughly sweet, like decaying leaves and incoming rain. The sun settled lower on the horizon, hidden from the high mountain walls that were a backdrop behind me. I shivered and shut the door gently.
“I wouldn't be happy either.”
“What happened to your old phone number? I'm having a devil of a time getting you programmed into my phone under the new one, even after you texted me.”
“My phone broke. Had to get a new one.” My throat thickened with the lie, but she didn't need to know the truth yet. Grandma had created a lovely, safe life within her retirement community. No need to pop that yet.
“Oh. I'll ask the nurse to reprogram this number in.”
“Good idea.” I balanced the phone on my shoulder and reached for a log on top of the pile Mark had put in my room. Sparks flew up the chimney when I jabbed the wood inside. “How's the Bunco group?”
Our conversation spiraled into her most recent exploits. Ranger, the retired military man that lived next door, followed her to their weekly crafts meeting again. His attempts to flirt weren't very subtle, but grandma had never been one to turn a man away. She lived a far more extroverted life than I did.
“Don't worry about me,” she said. “I'll keep Ranger on his toes.”
I laughed. “I never do worry about you, Grandma.”
“Any husband prospects yet?”
“Not yet.”
Mark riffled through my mind, but I shoved that back out. Nope. Noooope. He was my client and not at all my type. Although, granted, I didn't exactly know my type. Dating hadn't been high on my priority list the last few years, and Joshua certainly hadn't made it easy.
That whole married-but-possessive-of-other-women thing got in the way.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Grandma asked. “How can I be a great-grandma if you don't have babies?”
I laughed again. “You can adopt some from one of your friends there. You basically run that retirement home.”
“It's not the same, Stella Marie, and you know it.” The chiding in her voice softened. “He'll come. He'll probably surprise you, but he'll come.”
“Love you. Thank you for answering. It's always good to hear your voice.”
“You too, honey. Love you. Be safe!”
With a click, she was gone. I set my phone aside as a blast of wind slammed into the cabin wall from the west. Disturbed coals glowed a bright red in the fireplace but didn't seem to catch onto the log I'd shoved inside. This whole Laura Ingalls Wilder setup was new to me. Charming, but I needed a guidebook.
In a crouch, I blew on the coals. They flared to burnt orange, and a small flame licked up the side of the wood.
But would it stay?
For several minutes, I stared at the coals to will them to life, lost in thought. Was Grandma safe? Yes. There was no paper trail to her through financial or public records. Joshua hadn't heard much about her except that she existed, and Grandma could
