Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,85
seem to stop myself."
"She make you happy?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She nodded decisively. "She's good people. Doesn't quite know her place here yet, that's as clear as day, but she'll get there."
"It's hard jumping headfirst into a place like this." I took the last bite of my almond croissant and wiped my fingers on a white napkin. Donner Bakery was fairly quiet, given that we were there after the morning rush. I recognized most of the people sitting around the tables. I thought about how Grace wouldn't know a single one of them, and how strange that must be.
I'd gone my whole life knowing everything about Green Valley and knowing everyone in it. Knowing what my place was within that world. Even though I knew the truth of what Maxine said, I'd never really stopped to think about what it must be like for Grace. Grady, too.
They were braver than I'd probably ever been in my entire life.
Both of them, in different ways, took a giant leap of faith. There was so much in my life that I couldn’t ignore, couldn’t pretend that it didn’t exist, but there was a lot that I did have control of.
And what I did for a living, how much of my life that took up, was one of them.
"You look like you're thinking awfully hard over there, young man."
"I am," I told her. "What's the bravest thing you've ever done, Miss Barton?"
"Goodness," she harrumphed. "My brain doesn't work that fast, you can't ask me questions like that without a days’ notice to recall the last hundred years."
"If you're a hundred, I'll eat my hat." I smiled. "I know you've got something you can think of."
"Why? You need help manning up for something?"
"Maybe I do," I murmured. My dad was working on the budget, shifting numbers and going through our accounts, trying to get creative for the next couple of months until J.T. could settle down. The biggest thing that could help our budget was not having to pay someone. And I had an idea that could help my parents, and help myself, too.
"Probably having kids," she answered after a beat.
The secret hinge on my jaw unlocked, and my mouth fell open without permission from my brain.
Maxine clucked her tongue. "Only someone without kids would react that way. You don't realize just how little control you have in this world until you bring an entirely new person into it. When it's up to you, and you alone, to make sure they don't grow up to be a murderer or general drain on society, you have no idea what real pressure feels like. And I did it three times." She rapped the table. "Go ahead and tell me that's not bravery."
I smothered my smile. "It is, indeed."
"Now, what are you gearing up to do?"
"Nothing that bears talking about in public, Miss Barton," I said easily.
"Ah, sex, is it?"
"No," I whispered fiercely. She said it so damn loud that someone a table over choked on their coffee. "It's not about that."
"Well if you can't talk about it in public, what is it?"
She looked so genuinely confused that I almost laughed.
"Something else, I promise." I glanced at my watch. "And as much as I'd love to bore you with the details, I really need to head back to the office."
"Sure, sure." She tucked the rest of her muffin into the white paper bag and wedged it into the purple pouch buttoned to the front of her walker. "Tell your parents I said hello."
"Yes, ma'am."
Maxine stood, hands braced on the metal arms. Understanding smoothed out her face. “Grace doesn’t know about what J.T. did, does she? That’s why you tried to leave your lungs on the library floor.” She shook her head. “Never a good idea to keep something like that hidden. She’ll hear it from someone, son.”
“I’ll tell her,” I promised. “But it’s not an easy thing to tell.”
“No,” she agreed slowly, “no, I imagine it’s not. Her heart’s as big as Tennessee, isn’t it?”
I smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
“She hides it well. But it only takes one good look at her, and you see it stamped over her whole face.” Maxine eyed me, the kind that made me fidget in my seat after a couple of seconds. “You risk something special, if you don’t handle this right, Tucker.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond, and I watched her exit the bakery, slow, shuffling steps behind the metal frame of her walker. The strangest interactions spurred forward movement. At least for me.