I say, not ready to talk about it. It was our special place, where we laughed, bonded, painted, and talked. It holds such a special place in my heart, and I need to keep it there just a little longer before sharing my plans and opening it to others.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to, Mindy.”
In an animated voice, Mindy shares stories of her gardens, bingo, and book club and soon enough our meals are done.
When we finish, Ralph insists on paying, and I have no choice but to let him. People around here are pretty pushy, in a generous way.
I shrug back into my coat, take another look at the pickle jar on the counter, and make a mental note to ask the crew about it.
It’s nearing two by the time I make it back to the B&B, and I’m happy to see it egg free. Since I have lots of time before I need to get ready for the Halloween party tonight, I head into my office, and lose myself in work.
An hour later, the back door opens, and new footsteps tromp through the kitchen, followed by a lot of grumbling. What the heck? I slide from my chair and walk into the kitchen to find Nate standing there, his fists holding the hoods of two boys who look to be around twelve and fourteen.
“What’s going on?” I ask, as a gust of wind rushes into the house and wraps around me. I fold my arms to warm myself.
Nate’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenched tight. “These two have something to say to you.”
I glance at their scrunched-up faces, and one says, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” the other one says.
Nate gives him a little shake. “Not good enough.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, too,” he grouches and tries to pull away from Nate’s firm hold. Not a chance.
I look at Nate to try to figure out what they’re sorry about. “These are the two who’ve been egging the house. They’re the neighbor’s grandkids. They stay at their place after school until their parents pick them up after work.”
My eyes go wide. “Why were you egging the house?”
“We don’t want you to sell,” the older boy says, anger all over his red face.
My heart skips in my chest as understanding dawns. “Why don’t you two have a seat.”
“Take your boots off first,” Nate instructs, and they do as their told. They join me at the table, and both cross their arms. Nate stands at the door and jams his hands in his pants pocket.
“What are your names?”
“Brett,” the older boy says.
“Liam,” the younger one adds.
“Were you two close to Gram?” I ask gently, as I cross my legs and place my hands on the table.
“Yes,” they say in unison, and my heart squeezes in my too-tight chest.
“I bet she loved you two. She always wanted grandsons.” That makes them smile a bit. “Let me guess—after school, she made you chocolate chip cookies.” They both sit up a little straighter and nod. “I have her recipe.” With a tip of my head, I gesture toward the cupboard. “Maybe someday we can put those eggs to better use. I don’t think Gram would appreciate you using them on her house.”
“But we don’t want you to sell it,” Liam whines.
I swallow against the pain in my throat. “I miss her, too.” I put my hand over my heart, and it pounds against my palm. “I miss her so much, but this, what you’re doing, isn’t going to bring her back.” Water forms in the younger boy’s eyes, and tears pound behind my own. “Maybe whoever buys this place will have boys you can play with.” I look at Brett. “Or maybe a girl will move in.” I don’t miss the way his lips twitch.
“Sorry,” Brett says. “We’ll clean up the mess.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Liam adds, taking a cue from his older brother.
“I’m going to walk these two home,” Nate says, “and have a talk with their grandparents.”