How he moves through the world, confident and sure of himself without being cocky.
The softness he had in his eyes when we talked on the Fourth of July, the dimples that made a surprise appearance, the kindness he showed as he helped me to my feet.
I can’t be sure, but I thought I saw him looking my way when I was watching the fireworks with Clancy. I loved sharing that moment with my grandpa. It was special and something I’ll cherish forever, even if a small, illogical part of me wished there was some way I could have also shared it with Maverick.
I shake my head and rake my fingers through my hair, irritation flaring behind my sternum.
Of all the fucking times to meet a guy, why did it have to be now, when I’m dealing with a life-changing diagnosis? I lean against the wall, take a few breaths, and try to redirect myfrustration. Getting worked up only makes my headache worse, and today, it’s actually bearable.
I take a look around my tiny cabin and focus on the positives. It’s small, and the layout is easy to memorize. From the kitchen to the living room is three paces, the living room to my bed in the corner is five, and from my bed to the bathroom is two and a half paces.
Clancy has offered for me to move back in with him “when the time comes,” but I value my independence too much. I’m going to do everything in my power to stay here. It may not be much, but it’s familiar and comfortable and everything to me. My home. The first place I moved out to after leaving Clancy’s. As long as Maverick keeps his mitts off it and doesn’t make any changes, this cabin is going to remain my home.
“Knock, knock,” Clancy’s voice rings out. “Can I come in?”
“Of course. What are you doing here?” He lets himself in. Another figure follows close behind him. “Oh, hey, Pip.”
Clancy answers, “I thought I’d shake things and pop in here for a change. That way, I get to have lunch with my two favorite men.”
Pip snorts. “I wish you were my grandfa—” He stops, Clancy glaring at him for almost using the dreaded g-word. “I’m glad you’re my Clancy,” Pip corrects, earning himself a warm grin from the old man.
Clancy places the dutch oven on the counter, grabs some bowls from the cupboard, and dishes out three servings. “Chicken thighs with vegetables,” he says, fetching spoons out of the top drawer.
I grin. “Not ready to experiment again?”
“No,” he says, handing me a bowl. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Going to stick to tried and true recipes from now on.”
We huddle around my snug bistro table, our knees touching and elbows jostling from time to time as we dig in. Clancy asksPip about how his summer course is going, and as Pip fills him in, I can’t help but smile. I love the bond these two have.
Pip was abandoned shortly after he was born and has no clue who his parents are. He’s never had a real family. When he showed up on Clancy’s doorstep, dripping wet, scared for his life, and with nowhere to go, Clancy stepped in and stepped up, showering Pip with all the paternal love he has in him.
Pip asks how the harvest is going, and Clancy says, “It’s been a good season. The harvest is nearly done. All the trees are…naked.”
They both turn to me, wearing matching grins.
“Have I got something on my face?” I ask, wiping the back of my hand against my chin.
“No, no,” Clancy replies with a gleam in his eye. “But why did you fail to mention seeing your boss naked last week?”
I shoot daggers at Pip, who shrugs, mouths a totally insincere “Sorry,” and returns to wolfing down his food.
I turn to Clancy. “Didn’t think it was that noteworthy.”
“Oh, really.” Clancy stands. “Mind if I strip off, then?”
“Jesus, no. Sit down. Okay. The real reason is exactlythis. I didn’t want you teasing me about it. It’s bad enough Pip has been.”
“Nice work, Pip.”
Pip finishes chewing. “Thanks, Clancy. I did it for us.”
Clancy parks his ass back on the stool. “For the record, if I wanted to tease you about anything, it’d be your farcical plan to piss Maverick off.”
“There is nothing farcical about it,” I say. “But I do have an update to report.”
Pip smirks. “Enlighten us.”
“You heard the expression, nice guys finish last?” They both nod, so I continue. “Now, I have proof that it’s true.”
