Page 5 of Heart to Heart

I joined her back in the kitchen. “This might be a good idea,” I conceded as I slowly warmed up to her plans. “Not the stipulations—I’m good, I promise. But the shop.”

“Might? My ass. It’s brilliant.”

“Okay, it’s probably brilliant. Can I replant the herb garden in the back?”

“Of course you can, honey. There’s still rosemary and lavender running wild back there. We’ll just weed-whack it a little bit, then you can do anything you need.”

“Can I grow the tea myself? I’ve always wanted to try that. Can we have tables and chairs and a little tea corner too? With cookies and scones and tiny sandwiches?”

Her smile was smug as she answered. “Yes, we can.”

“Can I do tarot card readings and crystal meditation classes?”

“Uh, sure. I don’t see why not...”

“And I’ve always wanted to start an anti-hustle club—”

“What? Hustling? Remember those stipulations?” Her eyebrows rose. “No criminal activities. Remember what I said? Don’t get weird on me.”

I laughed. “No, Gram, one of my friends in London had one in her coffee shop. Like, everyone is always rushing around, with work, kids, smashing goals, trying to get to the top of whatever. So, she started a club for the sole purpose of relaxing. We’d knit, crochet, or sometimes paint and draw, drink tea, meditate, or just talk about books or TV shows we liked. One lady would show up every week and take a nap in a chair in the corner. The point was to justbe. Be still, be in the moment, be present. You know?”

“I do know a little something about that. I gotcha, and I love the concept.”

“Okay!” My mind ran wild with more ideas. I stood up to pace around the table.

The sound of Gram’s knife on the cutting board and the sizzle of the beef in the pot for the soup kept me grounded as my mind flew with possibilities.

Could I really do this?

I ruminated on all my ideas and all the details and all the effort it would take to get it up and running and, crashing back to earth, I sank into a chair. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“No negativity,” she tutted. “The only thing holding you back right now, honey, is you. Now that doesn’t mean the playing field will ever be level or that there won’t be real obstacles to get in our way. But it’s your life and it’s up to you to make it what you want it to be. You said you’re ready to be home, to plant roots and make a place for yourself here. Didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I do want that, so much.” I was through with long-term travel. Any sense of wanderlust I had left in my heart had burned itself out once I started spending time with my family again and started getting to know my nieces and nephews better.

“I want it too. I missed my little Hollyberry. And I want you to be happy you’re staying in town. This feels right to me, sugar pie, and I think we can do something great together. Don’t forget how much you loved it when Grandpa and I ran the inn. You’d help me in the garden and, well, you didn’t help me bake, but you did assist in disposing of the broken cookies, didn’t you?” She shot me a wink.

“Yes, I remember, and I agree. This feels like it could be perfect for me. Almost too good to be true...”

“And I might add, there’s plenty of bedrooms on the top two floors of the house if you, perhaps, find yourself a fella and want to give me some more great-grandbabies. Like with that cutie patootie, Liam, maybe?”

Cutie Patootie? Liam was more like a five-alarm smokeshow.But that was not the point right now. My family’s penchant for matchmaking was the real problem.

“Not you too, Gram. Please? I get enough of that from Mom.”

“I’m just saying, he’s a sweet boy. Easy on the eyes too. I go to his house from time to time with a batch of my snickerdoodles to watchSchitt’s Creekon his big TV with him. But whatever you say, I’ll stay out of it. Your Gram will be your safe place. For rants, complaints, or hiding out from the gentlemen suitors your mom is determined to send in your direction.”

“It’s appreciated. You have no idea how much.”

The door crashed open as my brothers entered. “We’re back!”

“No more talk about gentleman suitors please,” I hissed in alarm. “Jude has a terrible habit of blabbing everything he hears to Mom. It’s his toxic trait. Give him some banana bread and a glass of chocolate milk and he becomes an open book.Shh.”

“Oh yeah, I know all about that. How do you think I knew you wanted to stay in town this time? You didn’t tell me anything about your plans yourself, missy. And for future reference, carrot cake also gets his lips a-flappin’. Oh, he also knows about the Liam situation too, so heads up.”

My cheeks heated. Did anyonenotknow about my little—okay, massive—crush? “Sorry about that. I should have told you I was staying in Sweetbriar myself. And we’re not talking about Liam today, okay? Maybe not ever.”

She waved her knife in the air. “You’re forgiven. We have bigger fish to fry together now.”

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