Page 55 of Honey Be Mine
“I think the whole episode in the tree really shook her up.” His mother sighed. “And I wanted to thank you for Saturday. It’s hard to see Gramma Dot in...a state.”
“She was an angel compared to the day of Camellia and Van’s wedding.” He definitely didn’t want to think about that. Gramma Dot was feisty but not mean—until that day. He didn’t know who that woman had been, but she sure as hell hadn’t been his Gramma Dot. Hopefully, this medicine would stop that from happening again. “I was more worried about her falling and hurting herself.”
“Thanks to you, she’s fine.” There was a pause. “I appreciate you and Rosemary coming to the rescue. So does your dad.”
“I wasn’t looking for thanks, you know that.” He stared blindly at the computer screen.
“But you’re okay?”
He took a deep breath. “Gramma Dot thought I was Granddad... Other than that, fine.” That had hurt. Having her plead with him to stay—as her beloved Albie—had damn near torn his heart out.
His mother’s indrawn breath wavered. “Oh, Everett. I’m so sorry.”
He hurried on, “Something about seeing Rosebud snapped Gramma Dot out of it.” And he was grateful. He glanced toward his office door, remembering Rosebud cradling little Fi close. His damn heart grew too big for his chest—his ribs and lungs going tight.
“Rosemary has always held a special place in Gramma Dot’s heart, you know that.” There was a smile in her voice. “Mine, too.”
He smiled and sat back in his chair. “Yeah, Dad told me.”
“Told you what? Leland, what did you say to Everett?” A pause. “About me and your mother and Rosemary?”
“He said you and Gramma Dot were hoping Rosebud and I would get together.” He chuckled. “I guess I should be glad the two of you never tried your hand at matchmaking. That would have been disastrous.”
“Everett Michael Taggert.” Her outrage was clear. “That’s a horrible thing to say. For all you know, we might have had you two happily married by now.”
Everett shook his head, still smiling. “We’ll never know.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” his mother snapped back.
“No. No way, no how.” He sat forward. The last thing he needed was his mother and grandmother getting involved in his personal life—especially when it came to Rosebud. Thanks to that article, it was as big a mess as his professional life. “I love you both, and while I appreciate the concern, I can take care—”
“Oh, Everett. Sometimes you’re just like your father. Stubborn. Too stubborn for your own good.” She was upset now. “I’ve held my tongue for years, but—well, enough is enough. No, Leland, let me be. You love that girl. We all know it. Now she’s home, and you two have a real chance at happiness. What are you waiting for?”
“Who are we talking about?” he tried to tease.
“Everett Michael Taggert.” Her sigh was pure indignation.
“Mom, I’ve got a call coming in,” he lied. “Willow Creek.”
“I’m sorry, son.” She sighed. “You’re working, and here I am, sticking my nose into your business.”
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious. I love you.”
Everett disconnected. The last time he’d lied to his mother, he’d been in high school, and it was to cover his butt over something stupid he’d done. Today he’d lied because he wasn’t sure how to answer her. He spun around in his leather office chair and stared out the window at the courthouse lawn. If he couldn’t have an outdoor office, at least he had a peaceful view. He needed more peace in his life.
His mother was right. He’d always loved Rosebud. He probably always would. But that didn’t mean they had a future together. Considering how she’d reacted when he told her how he’d felt, he had no reason to be encouraged. Not that he wanted to be encouraged. He was no more willing to risk their friendship today than he had been years ago. He needed to remember that, to hold on to that, and not do anything he’d regret.
Dammit.
In the span of forty-eight hours, he’d gone from guarding his heart to fighting to hold on to it. For now, he’d have to keep up the fight.
CHAPTER TEN
ROSEMARY’SWEEKHADbeen eventful: emailing a self-introduction to the entire festival-and-event contact list; inventorying the supplies and confirming volunteers for her first senior gardening club next week; meeting with Lorna again to firm up the next few months’ calendar; hosting two study sessions for the Junior Beekeepers club and Benji’s upcoming apprenticeship beekeeper’s exam; the surprise arrival of a box of board-book copies ofABC’s with Baby Beethat Shelby’s friend had expedited production on; cheering on Bea’s first steps—then laughing over the toddler’s launch into a full-fledged run; and trying to mentally prepare for this weekend’s Annual Texas Beekeeper’s Convention.
Not to mention how gooey and soft her insides went every single time Everett was around. Which, thankfully, hadn’t been all that often.
