Page 15 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
This man was Lily’s grandfather.
The word ran through his mind as Lily moved into the man’s embrace, allowing his much taller frame to surround hers. The sight did weird things to JD’s chest. His grandparents had raised him, but they’d never hugged him. He might have assumed they had when he was a baby, but his only early memories were of indifferent nannies. His mother had died in childbirth; his father was an unknown. And his grandparents had never truly seenhim,only his illegitimacy. He’d lost count of the times they’d despaired over not having any other options, but his mother had been an only child. He’d often wished they’d dropped him at an orphanage like they’d threatened to.
This man who was tucking his granddaughter lovingly against his chest would never say the things to her that had been said to JD. And JD found himself grateful for that. After years of dealing with the memories, he’d finally recognized sometime in his thirties that he should never have been subjected to the things his grandparents had done. Thank God someone as sweet as Lily hadn’t experienced it.
The older man met his eyes over Lily’s head and was reaching to shake his hand before she even stepped away. His warm smile reminded JD of Lily. “Welcome to my home,” he said.
“Papa”—Lily gestured JD’s way—“this is John David Lane.”
“Ah, a Lane.” His wrinkled face creased as he assessed JD curiously. “Never thought I’d see another one of those around here. Henry Easton.” He shook JD’s hand firmly, then tucked Lily closer to his side. “So why are you two dropping by?”
“Lunch.”
JD had a feeling there was more to it than that. Lily’s grandfather had an actual twinkle in his eye that told JD he knew the same, but he didn’t push it. What he said was, “Did you bring me a muffuletta?”
Lily gave him a light pinch. “Of course I did. I wouldn’t dare show up without one.”
He patted her arm. “Good girl.”
JD retrieved the food from the car, and they followed Henry inside. After piling everything onto paper plates, Henry put glasses of sweet tea in their hands and sent them out the back door. “You younguns go enjoy the open air.”
“‘Younguns’?” JD asked as Lily led him down to the creek.
“He’s the only one that calls me that. It’s the main reason I love him.”
JD grinned. “Somehow I doubt that.”
At a bend in the creek, a wide gray slab of sandstone formed a natural picnic spot. JD set his things down, then took Lily’s while she kicked off her heels. He tried not to notice the smooth length of her thighs as her skirt rode up when she sat—not that he was successful. Finally they were settled, sandwiches unwrapped, tea nearby, the stream a gentle babble beside them.
JD enjoyed his own muffuletta for a few bites before getting down to business. “So…why here?” Lily definitely had some ulterior motive; he just hadn’t figured it out yet.
“Why not just because I owe my grandfather lunch?”
“I can believe that’s part of it”—he arched a brow—“but not all of it.”
Lily chuckled around a bite of sandwich. He tried not to notice the olive oil glistening on her lower lip. “Have you heard of Cades Cove?”
Everyone in the area knew about Cades Cove. The popular tourist spot was a drive-through natural area of the national park that his own land butted up against. And now JD wondered why he’d never questioned the name Cades Cove when he knew there was no water nearby. Mentally giving his own ignorance an eye roll, he replied, “Sure.”
“My grandfather was a park ranger at eighteen. He was in the park service until his retirement fifty years later, and part of those years was dedicated to Cades Cove.” She gestured around. “He and my grandmother bought this land in their twenties, before World War I—just walked right into the bank with a paper sack full of cash and handed it over.”
JD sputtered.
“Right? Pretty hard to fathom these days.” Lily shook her head. “They grew up in these mountains. Loved them. My dad was raised right here in this valley.”
Curiosity had him asking, “Where are your parents now?”
“When I moved to Nashville for college, they followed me.” She stared into the woods opposite the stream, her smile a little sad. “They chose to stay. Luckily they’re not that far away, and they visit often. Or I go over there.”
Her family seemed to be incredibly close. The idea was foreign to him, and yet he felt a spark of envy deep down, where he’d never admit it. His next words surprised him even more. “I’m surprised there aren’t a handful of great-grandkids running around here.”
Lily didn’t seem to mind his not-so-subtle attempt at fishing. “My family would have loved that, I’m sure. It just wasn’t in the cards for me.” She hesitated, flicked a glance at him, then squared her shoulders. “Over time I realized I was okay with not having kids. I like my life; I love my family. My cousins all have kids I can spoil.” She bit her lip.
He admired her honesty. He had enough female friends and colleagues to understand why she’d hesitated to open up about children. Society expected women to have it all—a career, a husband, a home, friendships, the ability to care for aging parents, children. Any of those components could be skipped and receive understanding except the last one.
Lily balled up her empty sandwich wrapper. “What about you?” she asked without looking up.
Normally he was closemouthed about his own history until well into a relationship, but he was surprised to find the words escaping him with ease. “I married in college, but after a while we both realized we’d made a mistake. I’ve focused on work ever since.”
