Page 20 of Sycamore Circle

“Thanks, but no.”

“Did Grafton ever calm down?” Mason asked. “We could hear him carrying on through the pantry wall.”

“He did, more or less.”

“What happened? His girl dump him?” Elizabeth asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. How did you know?”

She opened up two cans of soup and poured them into a bowl. “I figured it was a matter of time. The kid wears his heart on his sleeve. That don’t ever end well, you know what I’m saying?”

“I’m afraid I do. Sounds like you do too.”

Elizabeth shrugged as she stirred in some cornbread stuffing mix. “My father always said that you can’t live forty years without experiencing hardship. I always thought there was something to be said for that.”

Bo raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. He turned to Mason. “I’m fixing to head out. You good?”

“Yep. Adrian’s here. Charlie said he’d stop over around eight. Plus, we’ve only got four guys staying here right now. I’ll close things down tight round midnight.”

“Do you know if Lincoln is coming by?”

“He was here early this morning. I’m not sure about the weekend.”

“’Kay. I’m out of here then. See you on Sunday.”

“Yep.”

“See you, Bo.”

“Thanks, Elizabeth.” He gave her a little salute, checked in with a couple of the guys hanging out in the main living area, then headed out to his car.

He had two vehicles. One was a five-year-old Ram truck. His other was an eleven-year-old BMW in black. The car was sweet and just run-down enough that it didn’t draw a lot of attention. Whenever he drove it, he felt a little like the man his momma always wanted him to be.

Bo’s mom had worked two jobs, hoping that Bo would be the first in the family to go to college. He hadn’t been able to do that for her, but he had graduated high school. Now she worked as a receptionist in a dentist’s office. She had a really great smile and the folks there liked her enough to make sure she kept it that way.

She’d been the type to dream about becoming someone a little bit fancier. Not a lot. Just, say, the type to maybe get on a plane from time to time and stay at the Marriott instead of taking road trips and getting a room at the Motel 6.

One day he was going to make something like that happen for her. Something to make up for all the pain he’d caused.

Bo’s house was twenty minutes from Lincoln’s and was in a small neighborhood made up of midcentury ranches on one-acre lots. His house looked like all the rest on the outside. Red brick, tan siding. One chimney, lots of trees.

Inside, though, it was gorgeous. Bamboo flooring, white woodwork, leather furniture, stainless steel appliances and countertops. Original movie posters from old B-movies decorated the walls in sleek frames.

The work he did as a catalog model for Renegade had paid for most of it. It filled him with great satisfaction.

Even better, only a couple of guys had ever seen it. He kept to himself most of the time. Watched shows on Netflix. Read. Listened to music.

He’d fixed it up for himself. But now he realized that it was a nice enough place to have a woman like Joy over. If they ever got that far.

Thinking that he maybe wasn’t all that different from his mother with her hopes and dreams, Bo realized that he was pinning some of his hopes on Joy. If she answered the phone again when he called, that was a step forward.

He’d worry about real dates and visits to his house another time. He’d learned not to expect too much.

CHAPTER 8

It was raining. Given that it was Saturday, and that she and Chloe had made plans to have lunch at a cute café before walking around the square in Chillicothe, Joy was bummed. Her teenager hardly ever had a whole Saturday free.

Even though they weren’t going out to eat and window shop, Joy decided the day wasn’t a total loss. Chloe had decided to stay home instead of hanging out with Baylee or one of her other friends. She was grateful for that.

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