The Return
Page 45

He sighed as he shook his head. “You want me to stay here and wait for you?”
Guess no more procrastinating. Reaching for the door, I started to tell him yes, but that wasn’t what came out of my dumb mouth. “No. I mean, can you come inside, too? My grandparents might think you’re my boyfriend or something, but I’ll introduce you as my friend, and they’ll be pretty cool. I think they were hippies back in the day.”
His lips were doing that curling thing again. “Why not your boyfriend?”
I stared at him. “Because you’re not my boyfriend.” That seemed obvious.
“I’m your friend?”
He’d sounded genuinely curious, and that made him more socially awkward than me, and I kind of liked him for that. “Yes, you’re my friend,” I decided, and he cocked a perfect, golden eyebrow. “I don’t know why. You’re moody, but you can be funny when you want. Kind of dirty-minded, though. Sometimes even nice, and I know we’ve only known each for a couple of days, but you saved my life earlier and I think…I think I know you just about as well as I knew Erin. So, yeah, friends.”
Seth stared at me for a moment, and then he chuckled deeply, shoulders shaking. “Get out of the car, Joe.”
I got out of the car. “Thanks, Sethie
He shot me a look that was full of amusement as he rounded the front of the Porsche. Gazing up at the front door, my heart leapt into my throat. I took a deep breath. “You sure I look okay?”
“Yes,” he said.
Then I dashed up the stairs, ignoring the aches and pains from taking a hard landing earlier, as the wooden boards creaking under my feet. Opening the screen door, I wasn’t surprised when I found the interior door unlocked. The only kind of crime around these parts was stolen cows. Walking into the narrow foyer, I called out. “Mom? Granny?”
Seth slipped in behind me, quiet as a freaking ninja, somehow closing the door behind him without causing it to make the annoying shriek it had when I’d opened it.
I started down the hall as my grandmother walked out from the kitchen. What had happened this morning with the daimons ceased to exist the moment I saw her. Granny wasn’t that old, only in her late fifties, more round than narrow, and even though her face was weathered, her brown eyes were always so bright and full of life.
“Honey, what are you doing here?” Wiping her hands on the front of her jeans, she charged forward and barreled into me before I could respond. Her hugs were always fierce and squishy. It hurt a little this time, but I didn’t care. I’d missed these hugs. She drew back, smiling broadly. “This is such a surprise!” Craning her neck, she yelled, “Jimmy! Josie’s here!”
I winced at the pain in my eardrums.
Granny stepped back, holding onto my hands as she looked over my shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Honey, who is this?”
Feeling my face heat, I turned to Seth. “This is, um, this is Seth…” And I realized I had no idea what his last name was. “He’s a friend.”
“A friend?” Granny sent me a look that clearly said I was doing something wrong, and I wanted to throw myself under the small table butted up against the wall. She winked, and not at me, and I swallowed a groan. “Well, come in. Both of you. I’ll get you two some sweet tea. It’s fresh, just like you like, honey. Jimmy’s in the kitchen, eating pie, even though the doctor told him he needed to start eating more vegetables and less sweets and meat because of his diabetes, but you know how he is. I swear he’s eaten half of the apple pie since I took it out of the oven last night, so if you two want a slice, I suggest finding a shotgun and threatening his life with it. Oh, and if you want, the coffee’s still warm.”
My lips pursed as Granny spun and disappeared through the doorway. Seth stopped beside me, knocking my shoulder with his. He was grinning as he lowered his chin, whispering in my ear. “I’m going to hazard a guess and say you take after your grandmother.”
“We’re not friends anymore,” I grumbled.
He chuckled as I walked through the large dining room. A vase of tulips, Mom’s favorite, sat in the middle of the oak table. Seth stayed slightly behind me as we made our way into the eat-in kitchen, and like Granny had said, my grandfather was at the table, a slice of pie the size of my head in front of him and a newspaper in the other hand. My grandfather had the most awesome head full of hair—great genes or something, because there wasn’t even a streak of gray among the brown strands. Or he was rocking some Clairol for Men.
Peering up over his dark-rimmed glasses, he lowered the paper as his hazel eyes shifted from me to Seth. “Who’s this?”
“Seth. No last name apparently, because I wasn’t given one,” Granny answered, grabbing two mugs and placing them next to two glasses. “He’s a friend
I opened my mouth, but my grandfather opened his first. “Do you like pie, boy?”
Oh God, did he seriously just call Seth “boy” and ask him if he liked pie? This conversation wasn’t going as planned.
There was something like a choked laugh from behind me. “I love pie, sir.”
His eyes narrowed on us as he sat back, folding his arms across the flannel shirt he’d had since I was a little girl. “Good. I don’t trust anyone in my house that don’t like pie.”
Before this conversation could continue, I jumped in. “I can’t stay really long, but I need to see Mom. Is she in her bedroom?”