“Yeah, I was nervous walking through there,” I say. “The floor was spongy. I wouldn’t be surprised if it falls in on her one day.”
“Serves the old bat right. I only hope the antiques don’t get damaged.”
“Priorities,” I chuckle.
“Exactly!” We share a brief glance before I return my eyes to the road.
I could spend every night exactly like this, with her. Riding around, laughing, telling stories. Nothing could be more perfect.
I park in front of the coffee shop and we walk to the steakhouse. It’s packed, so we wait at the bar for a table. I order merlot and Micah gets a Riesling. There’s only one barstool available, so I let Micah have it and stand at her side. Luckily, it’s a small space and there are so many people I’m forced to be close enough to touch her. I can feel the heat of her body and smell the familiar lavender and vanilla scent she always wears. She’s more intoxicating than the wine.
Once our table is ready, we get settled into the corner booth at the back. I order a filet and she gets grilled salmon.
“So how is work going at the hotel?” she asks. “I rode by the other day and it didn’t look like anything has started yet.”
“No, not yet. We’ve applied for permits and submitted our plans to the state, so we’re waiting for all of that to go through. Since it’s a historic property, there’s more bureaucracy involved.”
“I’m so excited to see it when it’s done. I may move in if it’s even half as fabulous as I imagine.”
“You can be the first guest!” I say, holding my glass up for a toast.
“Absolutely!” She clinks her drink on mine, then leaves a smudge of red lipstick behind after taking a sip.
“I love your house, though. Your grandmother never changes a thing, does she?”
“Nope! Not since she moved in. I think it’s because of my grandfather. The house reminds her of him.”
“When did he pass?”
“Long before I was born, when my mom was a kid. He had cancer, and it devastated my nana.”
“You don’t talk about your mom much.”
She shifts in her seat, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “There’s not much to say. She’s in and out. Always has been.”
“How so?” I ask, worried I’m prying too much, but she doesn’t miss a beat.
“Well, she had me when she was a teenager. We lived in a trailer north of town for a few years. Then we moved in with one of her boyfriends, but they broke up. Then we moved in with Nana, which was supposed to be temporary. It was for Mom. She met someone else and left town while I stayed behind. She promised she’d come back and get me once she got settled, but she never did.”
“Do you ever see her?”
“When she needs money. If she’s between boyfriends, she’ll show up under the guise of wanting to help me with Nana, but Nana and I both see through it. Last time she was here, I’m pretty sure she was on something. She would sleep for fourteen to sixteen hours at a time.”
“Wow. That’s hard, Micah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not. But it is what it is, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.”
“What does your nana say about all of that?”
“She feels guilty. I think when my grandfather died, it gave my mom some issues when it comes to men. Nana feels like she spoiled her too much afterwards.”
“You turned out well, though.”
“Thanks,” she says, looking down.
“What about your dad?” I ask, fidgeting with my napkin.
“No idea. My mom never told anyone who he is, and I suspect she probably doesn’t even know herself. Sometimes around town I’ll see a man with red hair and wonder, you know?”
