Page 28 of The Two Last Moments

I make a slow circuit of the room, glancing around. Nina doesn’t seem to mind. There are pictures on the walls of the Bradley family. I see Danny at various ages, which feels strange. Like I’m seeing something personal without his permission.

But do I keep looking? Yep.

“Your house is beautiful.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but it’s not mine exactly. My son owns it. Danny’s father. He bought this place as an investment and lets me live here. He and Danny don’t get along.”

“No?” I’m trying to act like this topic mildly interests me at most. Like I’m not desperate to know everything about the man who saved me and took me in. I don’t know how I got lucky enough for a guy like him to find me. Not just nice and funny and panty-dropping hot, but good to his grandma too?

When he’s working as a firefighter, he must get chased after constantly by women he’s saved. The adoration must get old. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

It would be so obnoxiously predictable for me to fall for him. Embarrassing, really.

Nina settles back against the pillows. “Danny’s always had an adventurous streak. Took after his grandma that way. Me, I could never stay put in one place when I was younger. My parents told me I could choose between being a nurse and a teacher. Acceptable careers for a girl. But I wasn’t having any of that. I came out here to the West Coast and rambled around for a while. Met the man who would become the love of my life, Danny’s grandpa. The two of us wanted to see as much of the country as possible, so we decided to become long-haul truckers.”

“For real?” I never would’ve guessed. I don’t imagine that many women were truckers decades ago when Nina was young.

“Oh, sure. Why not? My man and I got to be together, see the sights when we weren’t on a deadline. Visited every roadside attraction and national park you could think of. I loved it. Absolutely loved it. My husband had a dual Canadian citizenship, and we drove up in Canada for a while. After we had our boys, we couldn’t wander quite as much as we wanted. We still tried to get out on the road every summer. But our sons had their own likes and dislikes, as children do. They wanted to spend their summers at home hanging out with their friends instead of road-tripping with Mom and Dad. Could you hand me that water glass?”

I help her take a sip. Then she goes on with her story as if she hadn’t stopped. “Danny’s father, Chris, he was the first in our family to earn a college degree. Then he went on to business school. Started his own company. I was proud as hell, but I didn’t understand him. So it figures Chris didn’t understand Danny, either, when his son turned out to have a mind of his own.”

Now, we’re getting to the good stuff. “What was Danny interested in?”

“All kinds of things. How things worked, especially people. But also engines, cars. He and his grandpa used to spend hours in the garage, tinkering. Chris thought that was a waste of time. Danny went to college, but he didn’t do a single other thing his dad wanted. Enlisted in the Army instead of applying to medical school.”

I want to ask more about Danny. I want to know everything. But Nina doesn’t volunteer more, and I’m not supposed to be pumping Nina for details on her grandson. I’m supposed to be learning abouther.

“You said boys. How many do you have?” I ask.

Immediately, I know I shouldn’t have asked. Her expression shuts down. It takes a long time for her to speak the next words. “Just one other. But he left. He’s gone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I stumbled right into your question. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Why did he leave? What happened to him?”

Another pause. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that either, but keeping my mouth shut doesn’t seem to be one of my core characteristics.

“Life happened,” Nina says. “It’s not always pretty, is it? You’re young, but I’ll bet you know that in your guts. Like I do.”

“Yeah. I think that’s true.” It’s that sinking feeling in my stomach. The bruises and scrapes fading from my skin.

Starla and Ryan come back in. “About ready for lunch?” Starla asks.

Nina gives a single nod, though her eyes are shuttered. Not lively like they were before. “Lunch is when I take my pain meds, Lark. I won’t be much company after that.”

“No problem. Could we talk more later? Or tomorrow?”

“If I’m not too tired. But I might be.”

I leave feeling like I screwed up. Like I made a friend and then already lost her. It’s bad enough that Nina is sick. Whatever happened with her other son, it hurt her enough that the wound still smarts.

I guess even a home that looks perfect on the outside can conceal pain beneath.

11

“Son,” my dad says, “how’s your grandmother? Faring any better?”

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