Page 8 of New River Gorge(ous)
These boxes are heavy. But I’m strong. I will not be defeated.
With each step up the sharply graded driveway, the load becomes harder to manage, but I eventually make it to the side door of Meemaw’s house.
Matt stands just inside and swings the door open for me.
Sweat runs down my face as I shove past him. I don’t see the edge of the step up into the kitchen and whack my shin on it.
Howling in pain, I yelp and fly forward. Thankfully, it’s only one step, so the boxes land on the floor and skitter away. Clutching my shin, I turn to Matt to yell at him about his lack of manners and how he should have helped me. I’m just in time to see Matt lift his hand in a wave and offer the man from the other driveway a cheeky grin.
From where I sit, my hand massaging the pain shooting down my shin, I can see the man as he stomps away.
“Looks like a real friendly neighbor you’ve got here, Brookie.” Matt closes the door.
I sigh. The man would be attractive, but he didn’t help me either.Oh well.
I reach out my foot and kick Matt’s calf.
4
Dr. Beckett Whistler
June MacCord’s granddaughter from Michigan, of all places, is coming to stay with her. Really? Her family is sending a grandkid to keep an eye on this woman whose greatest desire in life is to hot-wire a car.A grandkid. What on earth are they thinking? Now I’ll have to babysit both Juneandthe kid.
In a bad mood, I stomp to the mailboxes at the bottom of the steep driveway. Just as I reach where the driveways split, a bright blue Ford Ranger pickup pulls in and parks. Instead of opening the door, the driver turns the volume all the way up. I am concerned for my own eardrums, but then a woman gets out of the passenger seat, and now I’m worried about my eyes. Granddaughter this may be, grandKID this is not.
She’s short and petite, and her blonde hair is pulled up in a ponytail with streaks of pink running through it. She’s wearing black stretchy pants that stop just before the shin and a hot pink short sleeve shirt. I am entranced by her graceful movements as she strides to the back of the truck.
The man has already stalked inside. He’s taller than her, and clearly muscular, with the kind of gym muscles that only come from an insane amount of protein and intense workouts. Annoyance that he left without so much as asking if she needed help carrying her things makes my frown deepen.
I scowl at the door to Miss June’s house, where the man disappeared. Dad’s lectures about manners around a lady unlock my frozen body, and just as I’m about to call to the woman and ask if she needs help, she begins carrying a veritable Leaning Tower of Pisa up the driveway. She buckles a little under the load but keeps going.
Who is this tiny woman? And how is she so strong?
I watch in fascination, again frozen, but this time in admiration, as her legs carry her up the steep slope.
The side door of June’s house swings open, and I see the man watching me. His bemused expression tells me that he misinterpreted my admiration of the way the woman’s legs chugged up the driveway as appreciation for her glutes.
Fine. Just because being friendly is hard for me doesn’t mean I have lost all sense of manners. I didn’t stare. I just noticed her attractiveness and moved on.
Anger rears its head as I think about this woman—who is clearly too good for this man—carrying her things up the driveway.Is basic chivalry dead?I certainly did nothing to resuscitate it just now, but really, what kind of a deadbeat boyfriend is this guy?
My throat cords as the man in the doorway waves at me.
What if he’s her husband?
I shake my head to clear the thought just in time to hear the woman yell ‘HEY’ and crumple down. The door swings closed.
Stupid Hippocratic Oath.
She fell. She could be injured. It’s not my property. I’m not on duty. But I swore I’d do no harm. I swore that I’d help.
I tuck the envelopes—bills, of course—into my back jeans pocket and stride over to June’s and knock on the side door.
The granddaughter opens it. “Can I help you?” she asks. I get a good look at her blue eyes, thick lashes, and pink lips.
I raise my sunglasses and perch them on my head. “Yeah, uh, is everything ok? Did anyone get hurt?”
She laughs. “No.” Then she sticks out a hand. “Hi, I’m Brooke. I’m staying with my Meemaw for a while so she can heal up.”
