Page 11 of Your Soul to Keep

His deep voice interrupted my mental wrestling and brought my eyes back to his. “You surprised me the other night at Susie Q’s.”

God! Sitting here in front of him, his full attention lit me up like a campfire in the dark. How many nights had I lain awake yearning for exactly this?

I nodded quickly, and babbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I hadn’t seen you in all the times I’d come down to visit the girls, I was afraid to ask, and I didn’t want to—”

He cut me off. “What were you afraid of?”

I met his eyes with barely a flutter. “You being married.”

“I’m not.”

I nodded and sucked in a breath.

We were kids.

He tapped his fingertips on the table a few times, a sure sign he was nervous. “I’ve thought about you, a lot, over the years.”

I nodded again. How could we possibly navigate the years between then and now.

My hands shook in my lap. “I’ve thought about you, too.” I could give him this small truth.

“I want to see you,” he stated, “get to know you again.”

My stomach flipped and my betraying mouth opened. “I can’t. Not right now. Nan’s sick.” My breath came faster, lightning bolts of distress striking me from all sides. “I need to take care of her.”

He studied me steadily. “Still taking care of everybody else.”

My brows lowered. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Who’s taking care of you?”

Before I could answer, our server arrived at our table and delivered Gabe’s black coffee and my French vanilla cappuccino.

“Thank you.” I nodded toward our coffees and managed to smile. “That’s still my favorite. Not everything has changed.”

He dropped the front legs of his chair down on the floor with a thud. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

4

Tomorrow

Ileftthenursingstation with my heart in my hands.

The nurses marveled at Nan’s fire, astounded by her iron will. I loved to hear them talk about her, soaked it up like a parched sponge. But after a few minutes their awe gave way to compassion, and I turned my face away.

The tomorrows Nan promised me were coming to an end, I didn’t need to see the reminder in their eyes.

All the same, every night I prayed for just one more.

My heels clicked along the corridor toward her room, the staff members I’d gotten to know over the past six weeks calling out greetings and updating me on her morning shenanigans as I passed.

I swear the woman was half fae.

My Nan waited for no one’s validation, owned her role as heroine in her own story, and as legend told it, swept my grandfather clean off his feet.

She kept him on his toes every day after until his last.

And then she dropped like a stone in the deepest ocean.

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