Page 8 of Anchored

“Moonbeam?” I finally say in the silence of the grandfather clock ticking away the minutes.

Maple’s head snaps up and her fingers finally freeze on that phone of hers. Her blue eyes are wide and panicked. It’s the panic that squeezes my ribs and confirms I don’t have any other choice.

I walk closer and put my hand on top of the phone gripped in her hands. “It’s Memorial Day weekend. Everywhere has been booked for months already.”

Maple shakes her head defiantly. “Maybe someone cancelled last minute!”

I shake my head and take her phone from her hands, pressing the side button to turn the screen off.

“You know as well as I do that they have a long cancellation list too. Anchor Lake is a premier destination for everyone up and down the coast.” I press my luck and hand her back her phone. “You can come home with me for the weekend. It’ll give you a chance to search for a place for the rest of the summer.”

Maple goes back to biting on that lip and it takes everything in me not to reach up and pull it away from her teeth before she hurts herself again. “I suppose the guest room for a few days wouldn’t be so bad,” she murmurs.

I wince. “Uh, yeah, I turned the guest room into a weight room.”

Maple’s gaze flicks over my body and suddenly it’s too damn hot in this condo. “You don’t say.”

Her sarcasm makes me smile. “I do have a couch though. Very comfortable and right in front of the fireplace.”

“Oh goodie. A hot fire during summer.”

I don’t remember Maple being this funny twenty years ago, but then again, I didn’t give her much time to say anything humorous when I just kissed her and walked away.

“You can spend the rest of the day visiting with Gracie and I’ll take you home when my shift is over. Sound good?”

Maple dips her head in agreement, the movement making her breasts sway under that cotton tank top. Irefuseto look down. My eyeball tendons strain mightily, but I’m able to overpower them with sheer willpower alone.

“Great. Meet you back here at five.”

Before anything else can sway tantalizingly, I give her arm a squeeze and head out of the condo to see some patients. The day is busy and I pour my heart and soul into these elderly patients, making sure they do their exercises and are as healthy as can be. Megan doesn’t get another chance to flirt with me, and Debbie has to hand me glasses three more times before it’s time to leave. I’d call that a good day.

At five on the dot, I knock on Gracie’s door. This time, Maple answers, a grim smile set on her face.

“Grandma’s taking another nap. I told her I’d be back in the morning though, so we should be good to go.”

I nod, stepping inside to grab Maple’s suitcase where it’s stored by the hooks that currently hold jackets and sweaters. Her hand closes over the handle first and she jumps when my hand lands on top of hers.

“I got it,” I grumble.

She snatches her hand away and sweeps out of the condo. I follow, making sure to lock up after me, entering my code so security knows when I exited the condo. All staff here has their own codes, a way for us to keep tabs on the comings and goings of our employees. Our residents’ safety is top priority, one of the many ways Sunny Shores is far superior to the Last Dock Retirement Home on the north side of Anchor Lake.

I point toward my dusty black Jeep, stowing the suitcase in the back and making sure Maple climbs inside the passenger seat okay on her own. She tucks her long skirt in and I shut the door for her. Back on the driver’s side, I start the car and attempt conversation. I talk to people all day long in my job. I should be able to chat with Maple, right?

“Did you have a nice visit with Gracie today?”

Maple whimpers so quietly I’m not sure I heard it. My knuckles are white as I grip the steering wheel.

“She was mostly confused. It was like Groundhog Day each time she said she was delighted to see me.”

Fuck. I should have said something else.

“You know, Gracie talks about you all the time. Though she’s always called you her ‘darling granddaughter’ and never by name.”

Maple’s quiet, looking out the passenger window. I can only see the back of her head, so I keep my gaze trained on the road. I rack my brain for open-ended questions and come up with stupid ones like, what do you think of the weather today? Or what made you get a tattoo that spans the width of your shoulders? Neither seems like a good option for what’s basically a stranger, despite the fact we just pretended to be engaged.

“Did Doctor Ahmed come by?”

Maple turns toward me, and I sneak a glance at her. Shit. Her eyes are glossy. She nods.

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