Page 8 of Grounds for Love

I wince and say, “Forty-six.”

I can only see the side of her face as a grin appears. “Oh, that’s positively ancient. I’m surprised you can walk on the sand without your orthopedic shoes. Do I need to go get your cane so you can make it back up to the yard?”

She gives it right back to me and I like that. “Smarty. I don’t have special shoes and I certainly don’t need a cane. And I don’t need any pills, if you know what I mean,” I say with a wink.

I can see a blush rising on her cheeks and she bites her bottom lip, a grin teasing at her mouth. “Well then, I can’t see a problem.”

She flashes her gaze my way. Is she flirting with me now?

I choose to interpret that to mean she’s interested. Right? I mean it’s been a long time, but wasn’t that flirting?

As we start up the pathway to the back yard, I surprise myself when I ask something that hasn’t come out of my mouth for years. “How about dinner next Saturday night?”

She glances up at me from beneath her lashes and smiles. “No, thank you.”

I stop in my tracks and watch in dumbstruck silence as she hurries out of sight. Stupid me lets her go. This woman is… unbelievable.

And then I laugh. Moody Rod Murphy laughs his head off.

As clear as day, I hear Grace’s voice.

It’s time, Roddy.

Over the years, I’ve heard my dead wife’s voice before. I’ve drawn comfort from the imagined conversations with Grace. This time is different. I look up at the moon and stars in the sky and a warmth caresses my cheek.

Take a chance. She’s the one.

“I think you’re right, Gracie. You always are.” I smile at the many times that point was proven over our time together. A cool breeze sweeps past and I no longer feel her with me.

Did Gracie orchestrate Jennifer’s move to Faire Island? I chuckle. I wouldn’t put it past her.

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