About Tomorrow - Abbi Glines Page 0,22

some of just Griff, two I had of me and Gran, one of me and Dad last summer, and the only picture I had with Mom in the past ten years.

It was starting to look a little more like I lived here. Putting all of Gran’s things away didn’t feel right. I wanted her things around me. It was as if a piece of her was still here. I put several of my boxes in the attic, not needing those things right now. There were less boxes sitting about and I felt accomplished.

Determined to enjoy my day, I made some homemade hot cocoa that I found in Gran’s rolodex and sat down in front of my impressive fire to watch a Christmas movie. The Hallmark Channel was already full force Christmas and Halloween was barely over. I wasn’t complaining, though I needed some cheer.

Griff hadn’t called me all weekend. He’d sent one text yesterday asking how I was and after I responded in a three-paragraph text, he only said “Good” and that was it. I found it insulting, but I had to remind myself he was busy with his studies. I ate more Marlborough pie to soothe my feelings.

Today would be a good day. I was going to make it one. I was also going to look for a job online after I stopped being holly and jolly on the sofa. Sipping my hot cocoa, I decided if I didn’t love meat so much, I could be a Vegan. The soy milk half and half I used to make the cocoa was surprisingly delicious. I could easily make Gran’s recipes non-vegan, but something about making it exactly the way she made it felt nice. It helped the ache I felt when I saw something that brought back a memory of my time with her. Which was daily since I was living in her house now.

Just as the girl who was forced home to the blueberry farm to save the family business…had to leave her big city life in New York…bumps into the local restaurant owner who lost his wife to cancer several years ago…and is raising his daughter all alone, there was a knock on my door. I hoped no one else was bringing me a pie because I was going to have to run three extra miles a day after eating so much of the Marlborough pie Margie gave me.

I threw back the cozy red afghan that was keeping my legs warm and stood with my cocoa to go to the door. I tried peeking out the window, but it was hard to see who was in front of it from that angle. It wasn’t as if someone in Portsmouth was going to be dangerous. Especially on this street. I opened the door, preparing to force a smile and do pleasantries with some friend of Gran’s who was glad I was here, when a forced smile wasn’t required after all. My jaw slightly dropped in surprise before I regained my composure and asked, “What are you doing here, Creed?”

The corner of his too perfect mouth lifted at the corner and he shrugged. “Had to come handle some business and thought I’d check on you.”

I stood there staring at him, not sure if I was supposed to say thank you or I was fine or invite him in for cocoa.

He glanced up toward the chimney. “Looks like you got the fire figured out.”

I nodded. “Thanks to Jack, which I should thank you for.”

“I didn’t want you to freeze.”

“Thanks,” I said again because I was still processing that Creed was here. Seeing him in Boston was one thing but seeing him at Gran’s was different. Memories came back strong and emotions that I thought were gone rose to the surface and I had to adjust. Quickly before he noticed.

I shivered then from the freezing temps outside and stepped back into the warmth. “Come in and have some cocoa. It’s cold out there.”

He looked as if he wasn’t sure that was a good idea and I concurred, but I owed him for helping me out with so many things I hadn’t thought about. When he finally stepped forward and into the house, I closed the door behind him.

“Mrs. Thompson brought me Marlborough pie if you’re hungry,” I told him.

He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the coatrack. “Sounds good. Thanks,” he replied, and I hurried to the kitchen to get him the pie and cocoa so that I had