Page 126 of Eight Years Gone

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

Bea laughed. “It sounds like I just might.”

Grace smiled as she moved to lean against the front counter, staring out the window as people walked by. “We could go out for lunch. Anywhere you want.”

“How about you drive on over this way? We’ll eat in. I’ll make that French onion soup you love so much.”

“I don’t want you going to any trouble.”

“I like playing in the kitchen—fussing over my girl. You know that. Bring Jagger, too, now that he’s back. I’ll make up a batch of his favorite brownies.”

“I wish I could, but he’s out of town for the next couple of days. He’s doing some work in California.”

“Well, I guess there will be more for you and me.”

Grace smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Should I expect you around twelve thirty?”

“I’ll be there. What can I bring?”

“Only yourself.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t. Bye, honey.”

“Bye.” Ending the call, she glanced around the shop, struggling to click back to work mode.

“There’s plenty to do,” she reminded herself as her phone alerted her to a text.

I finally made it back to my room. How are things in PA?

Grace stared at Jagger’s message before she replied. He had no idea how loaded his question was. Things are good here. What about you?

Other than being too many miles away from you, I can’t complain. Are we still on for FaceTime at 6? Your kitchen/my hotel room?

It’s a date. I’m looking forward to hearing about your day. Because she desperately wanted a break from thinking about her own.

Gotta go for now. I love you.

I love you, too.

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, she left it at that—and planned to for the next little while. Jagger had a job to do.

She’d handled her problems on her own for a long time. If and when she had something real to share about her father’s affair and a potential long-lost brother, she would let him know then.

Thirty

Grace pulled up behind Bea’s compact car in the driveway, hating that she was running almost fifteen minutes late. Typically, she arrived places early, but nothing was going right today.

The morning had been fraught with issues, starting with Brandon limping his way through his shift, telling her on more than one occasion that he was fine with the mildest of sprains. Aunt Maggie had been sniffling and sneezing, refusing to go home. And they’d had several extra arrangements to create after the computer temporarily crashed an hour before she left.

Hurrying out of the Sorento with a bouquet, Grace quickly headed up the stone path to the cute one-story house twenty minutes outside of Philly.

Bea opened the door before she could knock. “Grace.” She wrapped her up in a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

Grace returned her embrace, savoring the familiar vanilla scent on Bea’s sweater. “It’s good to see you too. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

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