Page 35 of Always Meant for You
I squeeze my granny’s hand. “What flavor ice cream are you thinking of getting?”
“Strawberry, of course. And your grandfather will get chocolate. You, Elias, and Jamie always picked Rocky Road. And sweet Mabel . . .” Her eyes brighten as she says the name. “She’ll pick the newest flavor, no matter what it is.”
My breath catches. Not because Gran’s drifting again, but because she spoke her name.
Mabel.
With the mention of the woman, I’m back there in her bedroom, staring into her sky-blue eyes. Touching her. Wanting her. Craving her.
I let my guard down. I should’ve known better. I should’ve read the fire in her gaze. I should’ve known that would be the last time I’d see her.
I’ve replayed that scene in my head a thousand times. Probably more. The pad of my thumb on her bottom lip. She trembled under my touch. The regret of holding back. The guilt of knowing what I’ve done to her.
If I had a do-over, would I have told her everything?
No, I was right to hold back.
She left without looking back. Her silence speaks loud and clear. She hates this place, and she hates me.
Too bad my heart never got the memo.
Gran slumps in her chair, her energy draining fast. “Stanley, I’m awfully tired. Maybe we skip ice cream this week. Elias can drive Cal home.”
Her eyes glaze over. The spark’s gone.
“Looks like a breeze is picking up, Mrs. Horner,” Ruben says, patting her shoulder gently. “We best head back. Don’t want you to catch a chill.”
A hollow ache rises in my chest.
“I’ll be by on my usual day to say hello.”
Ruben chuckles. “Callan Horner, more constant than the sunrise,” he says, then wheels Gran toward the nursing facility a few blocks away.
I pull my hat low, shielding my eyes. The anguish churns, but I stuff it down.
Ruben and my grandmother disappear down an empty Main Street, and I can’t help but wonder, is this it? Am I supposed to stand here and watch the people I love fall apart? Watch the plan Jamie and I fought for die a slow and quiet death? All while I keep pining away for the one thing I want and can never have.
I see her face. Wind in her hair. Sun warming her pink cheeks.
It always circles back to Mabel.
“Cal, you’ve got a lady vying for your attention,” Abe calls, breaking into my thoughts.
A lady?
I can’t remember the last time I drove a few dusty towns over to find someone as lonely as I am for a night of hot and sweaty nothing.
I frown at the man. “What are you talking about, Abe?”
Kenny chuckles. “Check out who decided to make your flannel her new home.”
Jesus. Not again.
“Dammit,” I grumble, walking over to find a tiny black kitten curled up in the shade beneath the table, her limbs tucked tight and tail flicking in sleep. Her ears twitch once, but she doesn’t stir—dead to the world and smug about it.
It got hot earlier, and I tossed my shirt on a folding chair. It must’ve slipped off.
It’s the perfect spot for this little squatter.
