Page 18 of Fireworks & Forehead Kisses

I stared at my grandmother, waiting for the punchline. Surely, this was a joke.

My grandmother continued to explain, “It’s a show where a matchmaker arranges a marriage between two single people. You meet your spouse at the altar, then you move in together for three months, and at the end of twelve weeks, you decide whether or not you want to stay married.”

I was beginning to think this was not a joke.

“So, I want to make sure I’m understanding you. The woman you just hired asCOOto help you launch a sustainable, eco-friendly clothing line took you to the pier so you could film her submission for a reality show where she wants to marry a total stranger. Does that not give you pause about her decision-making?”

Gran’s shoulders squared as her posture stiffened. “Not at all. I like a woman who knows what she wants and is brave enough to go after it. A risk taker. Someone who has the convictions not only to believe in true love in this cynical world but to back it up and put her heart on the line.”

“That’s one way to look at it.” Another way would be someone who is delusional, naïve, and possibly a few cards short of a full deck. I took a deep breath. “Why is her car here?”

“It broke down when we got back.”

“Why didn’t Fred drive you?”

“She offered to drive.”

It was the same thing Dorothy had said. I wondered if the real reason Gran hadn’t wanted Fred to drive was that she was leaning into this new independence. When Grandfather was alive, Fred drove Gran everywhere. He hadn’tallowedmy grandmother to get a license. I could see how that had been suffocating to her.

I wanted to tell her never to get in that car again, but I knew that she wouldn’t listen. She was going to do what she wanted. I’d have to figure out a way to make sure Gran was safe in the car and safe out here on the island without her feeling like she was being babysat.

“Have you found someone to care for the horses yet?” I asked, as genius struck me, that she might have given me the perfect excuse for extra help on the property.

“What do you mean? Fred and Dorothy?—”

“That’s too much to ask of Fred and Dorothy. The horses need to be exercised, groomed, have regular checkups, and?—”

“I can have someone come out?—”

“I’ll take care of it. Hannah knows people in the equestrian world. They can stay in the guest house. It’s better for the horses to have someone with them every day.”

“Fine.” She looked back down at her screen.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” Dorothy called up.

“I’m going to go wash up.”

On my way down the steps, I pulled out my phone. As soon as I was outside, I called Hannah.

“Still nothing from Derek,” she answered.

“That’s not why I’m calling. I need you to find a live-in horse caretaker for the Clydesdales who has a partner who is a qualified nurse.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Yes, it is.”

“She fired Ellen,” Hannah correctly guessed.

“Yes.”

“On it.”

Game. Set. Match, Gran.

I hung up the phone and knew that Hannah would take care of it. She was the only person in my life who reduced my anxiety instead of increasing it. Working with her had made my job,and since I worked at least sixty-plus hours a week, my life a much more tolerable experience. I knew that if she was handling something, it would be done, and it would be done correctly. There wasn’t anyone else who I could say that about.

After I removed my jacket and hung it over the railing of the porch, I rolled up the sleeves of my white button-down shirt as I walked down the porch steps. Up close, the tires were even worse than I’d originally thought. The tread was balder than Mr. T’s head. When I peered inside the driver’s window, I saw the key was in the ignition.

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