ate.
“We really need to finalize a few things on the script,” Grace said, reaching for our shared nachos.
“I think you and Mayson can handle it,” I said, looking at Ginny under my lashes. When I returned my gaze to Grace, she was shooting me a look I didn’t understand. I frowned. She inched her head in Ginny’s direction and then frowned again. I ignored it.
“You’re leaving for Ireland on the third. It’s the whole reason we came to Tennessee. You demanded we come so the three of us could finish it together.”
I chuckled. “I demanded we come to Tennessee so you could fix things between the two of you.” I waved my finger at them. “Worked like a charm.”
“I wish I had something to throw at you,” Grace huffed. Mayson slid an arm behind her, along the chair.
“I’m glad he talked you into it,” he said. He kissed her temple, and Grace’s frown grew.
“Did you seriously plot this behind my back?” she asked.
“No. I suggested. He agreed,” I told her.
Grace turned to Ginny. “Do not leave these two alone for a second. They will spill all your secrets and leave you blindsided.”
Ginny shrugged. “I don’t really have any secrets to be shared.”
But her eyes met mine, and I realized I was her secret.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be her secret, but I couldn’t offer anything more either. She was going back to Knoxville. I was going to Ireland and then back to L.A. to sit through casting calls. Dylan and his team didn’t need us for that part of the process, but Grace and I wanted to be a part of every last piece of the production so we would understand what it took to make a musical from the ground up.
Mayson was still thinking about Ginny’s no-secret comment and finally shrugged. “I do believe she’s right. I can’t think of one thing to tell you about Ginny that she wouldn’t tell you herself.”
Ginny didn’t like that answer. She didn’t like it any more than she’d liked being called dependable or grandma. But I knew enough now to know she wasn’t boring or dull.
“She sure surprised the hell out of me,” I said, jumping to her defense, and everyone at the table stared at me—Mayson and Grace with confusion—Ginny with a silent plea. “I could have sworn she drove a Civic or some regular sedan. Look at the sports car she drives.”
That distracted everyone as Grace exclaimed, “Oh, yes. I need to drive that Miata.”
“It’s still snowing,” Mayson and I both said pretty much at the same time, and Grace returned to her glower.
It hadn’t let up yet. It was the second day of snow and had completely encompassed the town in white walls.
“It doesn’t usually stick around this long,” Ginny said. “It usually blows in and out, and just about the time you really get tired of it, it’s already melting.”
“I couldn’t live in it,” Grace said. “It’s fun for a change, and it’s beautiful to look at, but I want to be able to drive again without worrying about sliding off the road.”
She was right. I felt the same way, which was another reason for Ginny and me to be a secret. Our lives were never going to line up right. It was a shame. It was maddening, but it was the truth.
In the afternoon, a few more of the cousins showed up to help finish off the decorating. Candles, glittery stars, and the rest of the white twinkle lights festooned the room. It looked like a five-star hotel wedding. It was beautiful. These families didn’t hold back on anything, that was for sure.
When it was clear Ginny had all the help she needed, Mayson and Grace suggested we leave to get in a couple of hours on the script. I couldn’t have said no without raising all of their alarms. So, I left, texting Ginny as soon as my butt hit the back seat of the truck Mayson was driving.
ME: Sorry. I didn’t know how to get out of it. Will try to finish early. I’ll let you know when I’m back at the hotel.
THE WITCH: It’s fine. And if it becomes impossible, I’ll understand.
ME: It will NOT be impossible.
THE WITCH: I’m just saying. I get it.
ME: You made a deal with me, and I plan on holding you to it.
“Who are you texting?” Grace asked, trying to see my phone. I shoved it into my pocket.
“Luis,” I lied.
Luis was one of the coaches at Dad’s