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“Figuring things out,” Billie said finally, turning back to Lilian. “Things didn’t exactly work out how I expected them to. So I’m here to try and figure some things out.”
“Good girl,” Lilian said approvingly. “There’s nothing wrong with coming home to take stock of things. Wise choice.” She cocked her head. “You should think about coming up here once a week or so. There’s a few of us that play and wouldn’t mind some instruction. And we could all use a sing-song.”
Billie glanced at Jules who shrugged in return. “Um, I’ll think about it?”
“Don’t worry about the money, girl,” Jim broke in. “We’ll see you’re compensated for your time.”
“I’m not sure that’s your decision to make,” Jules broke in.
“Well, I’ll be leaving you to your visit,” said Lilian, rather more hurriedly than Jules would have expected. “It was nice to see you, Billie. Don’t be a stranger. And drop by the bookshop, reading’s important.”
THEY STROLLED BACK down the driveway arm in arm. Jules was surprised that her grandfather had seemed quite taken with Billie.
“Not the most romantic date,” she said.
Billie laughed. “I didn’t know it was a date.”
Jules shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t, I suppose, I mean—”
“It’s fine,” said Billie. “Jim’s important to you, he’s family.”
“And he happened to be what I was already planning to do this afternoon,” Jules confessed.
Billie shrugged. “It’s fine by me. I had a nice time.” She looked out over the cornfields and Jules caught her look.
“Ah, regretting that we didn’t skive off and run away into the fields, are you?”
Billie laughed again. “No, not at all.”
“It’s not too late.”
“I’m a grown woman and I do have some self-control,” Billie said, voice sharper.
Jules put an arm around her waist, letting her hand linger on Billie’s hipbone, stroking it with her thumb. “Do you?”
“I do,” said Billie primly if not altogether steadily. She removed Jules’s hand, taking it in her own instead. Jules felt a stab of disappointment. “But I was thinking about taking you home.” Jules’s disappointment disappeared in an instant.
“Yes?”
“Mmm, I could even cook if you’re hungry?”
“Huh. Billie Brooke cooking me dinner,” Jules said, pretending to think.
“I do wish you’d stop calling me that.”
“It’s your name,” Jules pointed out.
“You don’t have to call me by my full name all the time. It’s… odd.”
“You’re odd, Billie Brooke.”
Billie sighed. “Listen, do you want to come home with me or not?”
Jules thought for just a second. An image of Billie cooking, of her helping, of sitting companionably together, came to her mind. She could imagine Billie playing for her as she sat on the armchair in the living room. She could imagine feeling full and replete. She could imagine taking Billie’s hand and leading her upstairs when the sky started to darken.
And nothing had ever seemed so tempting, so brilliantly normal and beautiful before.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that sounds pretty nice actually.”
