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“Do you have a better one,” I ask with hope at his expression.
“Didn’t someone say she never wanted to leave. That you had the best job on the planet?”
“Ben!” I cry out, run over, pick up my phone and dial. “Gemma? How’re you liking the coffee shop?”
“Same ol’ same ol, like I told you. Why?”
Meeting Ben’s eyes I grin excitedly and say to my Gem, “How’d you like to move to Georgia and live on a ranch?!”
FORTY-TWO
Willow
Not long afterward, at seven o’clock on New Years Eve, Jonny over at Sunflower with his grandparents and Sylvia, Gemma on some online date she wouldn’t give me the details of — “I’ll tell you if it goes well. You know how these things are.” — Ben and I are out for a night in the city.
Driving through a residential area in Atlanta, he informs me, “Almost there.”
“I don’t mind the drive, Ben.” I smile, enjoying the tree-lined avenue of pretty houses lit by scattered street lamps and the often illuminated porch light. I’m all dressed up for the big night in a floor-length purple gown — Ben’s favorite color on me — with my mom’s pearls she gave me when I was little, an heirloom from a long line of Windheims. We spoke on the phone tonight and she was so happy when I told her I was wearing them.
Ben is ridiculously handsome in a tux with a stylish white bow tie that disappears into his sexy crisp white shirt and vest, a fun contrast to the rugged Jeep we cleaned together this afternoon with a hose, rags and buckets before our shower. Jonny was already gone so we had quite the workout, washing the sweat away as it formed.
I lay my hand on his thigh. “It’s our first time in Atlanta. Other than airport pickups.”
He smirks, “It’s about time. Oh…you know what?”
“What?”
“This is my grandparents’ street. Let’s just pop in and say hello before we get to the restaurant.” Driving with his left hand, he covers my hand with his right, gives it a squeeze. “They’ll be in bed early.”
“Oh yay! I get to meet your grandparents? Which side?”
“Dad’s side, the Cocker side.”
Ben brings my fingers to his lips and kisses them, one by one as I watch while he drives. He smiles at me, turns the wheel a little to adjust for a bend in the road. His green eyes flick to the right and I follow his gaze to countless cars parked in front of a charming, yellow two-story home. He pulls into the driveway, behind four other cars, his blocking the sidewalk. “We’ll just run in.”
“What are all these cars for?”
“They collect them.”
I frown, “What?” thinking it odd because it’s a mish-mosh of makes and models, some the same. But the house looks dark except for a porch light, so I don’t argue. Hey, to each their own.
Ben jumps out, walks around, opens my door, gorgeous. I take his offered hand and he pulls me to him. “Let me just mess up your lipstick a little.”
I push him away. “No! I’m meeting your grandparents!” Hand-in-hand we walk up a stone path cut into the lawn, to the front door. “It looks like they might already be sleeping. Or gone? With all these cars, how can you tell when one is missing?”
“I’ll give them a call.”
I open my clutch and hand him his phone, tux pants too tight so I have both. “Here you go.”
But the front door opens and there stands a woman with bobbed white hair, warm brown eyes, in a dress of sequins and cream, matching heels. “Ben!”
“Hi Grandma, you look beautiful. You two going out?”
“We were just about to.” Her gaze floats back to me and lands, accompanied by the happiest smile. “You must be Willow! We’ve heard so much about you!”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cocker.”
“Call me Nancy!” Calling behind her, “Michael! Ben dropped by to say hello!” she smiles and waves us in. “We can have a drink before we go. What a treat to see you! We have some time before our reservations.”
