Page 76 of Every Chance After

“I apologize in advance for Wade. He might be difficult to deal with.”

“Aw, honey, I’ll turn him into a teddy bear in no time. You’ll see.”

He chuckles. “Darling, if anyone could do it, it’d be you.”

A bit flushed by his faith in me and the worddarling, I gaze out the window, focusing on passing lights instead of Grady. But it’s hard. The tight veins in his forearms, tensing as he turns, nicks from old injuries, and the dark lines and smudges of his tattoos are all delicious little things that could keep me entertained for hours.

I must be lonely. Or hormonal—I still have those.

Soon, we pull through the gates and bump up the long driveway of Tripp Family Farm. Flanked by fields and pastures, their home guides us in like a lighthouse amid the seas. Light beams in every window, and twinkle lights adorn the wraparound porch. It’s bigger than I expected, but it housed eight people at one time. Eight!

I can’t imagine having siblings or being a part of any large household. The idea of someone always being there seems so cozy and comforting, and makes me sad. I spent so much time alone growing up. Maybe that’s why I said yes to Ashe even though I never fully believed in us.

I realize that now, though maybe I could’ve lived blissfully unaware of my doubts for ages. Moving along in our marriage until something snapped—a promise broken or an expectation unfulfilled. Then, that undercurrent of unease would be clear in wretched hindsight, the dirty frenemy.

Everyone abandons me eventually.

Now, that loneliness returns and digs in, especially when Grady pulls in beside other cars, muttering a breathy, “What’d I forget, Marigold?”

“Game night,” she says.

A full gasp erupts from me.Game night? They have a game night?

He turns to me apologetically. “Sorry. We don’t have to stay.”

“No, I want to. If it’s alright,” I pipe up quickly, “I mean, I don’t want to intrude.”

He groans. “It’s no intrusion. I just don’t wantyouto feel bombarded bythem. They’re a lot.”

Nervous but desperate to see this family event, I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. “I can handle it.”

Grady’s light touch finds the small of my back when he ushers me inside, and a heat joins my unease. Ireallyshouldn’t enjoy his touches this much.

Marigold beelines through the chaotic room and disappears. It’s not a living room but a great room with beamed arched ceilings, an open concept into the kitchen and dining room, and a blazing fireplace against the far wall. Card tables and chairs have been set up around the room, all boasting games.Scrabbleat one,Ticket to Rideat another,Sushi Goaround the coffee table, andFarm-Opolyat the dining room table. The room bursts with noise and laughter while the games are played simultaneously.

All of which stops when eyes land on me. Silence takes over as they glance from me to each other and back again like they’re stunned and unsure what to do with me. Wild déjà vu takes over—the production ofThe Sound of Musicin high school when I was the set designer, perfectly content to stay backstage and let my backdrops and props take the starring role untilsheshowed up with other ideas. That red-faced humiliation returns now, making my skin hot and my fingers tremble.

“This tells you how often I show up with a woman,” he whispers before his hand gently urges me forward. “Guys, you know Marina?”

“Marnie, welcome!” Carmela rises from theTicket to Ridetable. She maneuvers her way to me as the others break their silences with greetings and how-are-you’s. Uncharacteristically uneasy, my answers are quick and automatic.Fine, thank you. Nice to see you. How are you?

They aren’t exactly strangers, but they aren’t friends, either. The story of my life.

I know them all in one way or another. Carmela from the pharmacy. Mack from delivering his eggs and dairy products to Sunny’s—another idea of mine, local vendors—and his arguments with Cora over her inflating the prices. Colin’s face is plastered all over Seagrove, being the town’s only real estate agent. His wife, Tamsyn is a frequent customer at Sunny’s and a keen produce selector. We once got into a lovely discussion over finding the perfect cantaloupe. Their kids, Zach and Zoe, love the candy bar at Sunny’s. Luke practically runs Rebellion, the best restaurant in town. His wife, Willow, looks like a bohemian princess and frequents Sunny’s section of natural beauty products. I don’t see Elena often—she must shop at Food Lion—but I feel like I know her, considering Jim and his chocolate chip birthday cakes. I graduated from Seagrove High before Marigold, but after Gil—he’s the one I know best since we both worked onThe Sound of Musictogether; he was in charge of sound.

Carmela reaches me, going straight for a gentle hug and then grabbing my free hand to pull me into the house. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She means it, though I feel like a spare card mixed into the wrong deck.

“Come to the kitchen. It’s taco night. Hope you’re hungry.”

With me occupied, attention diverts to Grady—his father asking for his help with hay tomorrow, Colin reminding him about Zoe’s bake sale, Gil asking about a trip to GameStop, and other requests that I don’t hear as Carmela moves me into the kitchen.

“Hope you like tacos… I could warm up something if you don’t… How’re those headaches?”

I ramble off quick answers, dazed by her beautiful but intense attention. I see where Grady gets it from, though I imagine he wouldn’t like that observation pointed out.

Mom’s voice stirs in my head.“Let’s move south, find out if there’s anything to Southern hospitality.”Her idea took us to Virginia briefly. Then, six towns in North Carolina, like we were having trouble finding the elusive cliché. Until Seagrove, where I found it, but she didn’t. I wonder if Mom’s still searching.

---