Nettie had gone to the church to meet with her ladies’ group that Wednesday evening. The discussion on the agenda was who would donate what to the church bazaar that fall. That would take about three minutes, because each of them donated the same thing every year. The next hour would be dedicated to the newest gossip—the upcoming wedding.
Ryder and Shane had picked Jancy and Emily up at the diner as soon as it closed that evening at eight o’clock. With Nettie gone, Vicky had the too-big, too-quiet house to herself. So she carried a bottle of water to the front porch and sat down in the swing.
Back when Emily was first born and wouldn’t sleep at night, she’d spent hours on that swing, hoping that the motion would make her baby sleepy. Then when she was a little girl, they’d talked out all kinds of problems to the squeak of the old chains. As a teenager Emily and her friends giggled about boys, makeup, and clothes in the same old red swing. And now Vicky had it all to herself with nothing but memories.
The ringing of her phone brought her back to the present with a jar. She grabbed it up from beside her on the swing, saw that it was Andy, and answered on the third ring.
“Hey, how’s Nettie? Been meanin’ to call all day but got tied up in Frankston with a new oven that we’re having put in,” he said.
Vicky’s heart did a little flutter when she heard his deep drawl. Nettie had teased about her dating him—the timing was all wrong with this wedding business and a new baby on the way. It was still too much for Vicky to take in, but his voice brought a little calm into her world.
“She’s pretty much back to normal. We’re letting her make tarts, but I’m helping so that she doesn’t overdo.” Looking back, it had been like that in the hospital, too. When he was in the room, she wasn’t nearly so anxious about Nettie.
“I’m about half a mile from Pick. Want to get an ice cream at that convenience store down the road from you?”
“Not really, but you could sit on the porch with me if you’ve got time. I could use a friend tonight.” It wasn’t an all-consuming thing like she’d felt when she and Creed was together, so maybe it wasn’t anything but friendship after all.
“Be there in a few minutes.”
He was gone before she could ask if he wanted a glass of tea or a beer, so she took a chance on the latter. She’d just set a pair on the porch rail when she heard tires crunching on gravel as Andy’s truck slowly moved from the diner toward the house. She squinted against the setting sun to see Andy’s broad shoulders. In a few long strides he was at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Evenin’,” Andy said. “I could hear worry in your voice on the phone. Want to talk about it?”
She patted the space beside her and pointed to the beer. “Yes, I do. There’s a lot going on, and I’m not doing so good at processing it.”
He twisted the top off the beer and sat down. “Nettie’s okay?”
Just like in the hospital and when she heard his voice, his presence put peace into her heart and soul. Was this what an adult relationship was like?
“She’s the least of my worries.” She went on to tell him about Emily’s upcoming marriage and pregnancy. “I’m going to be a grandmother,” she said.
“How do you feel about that?” he chuckled.
“Happy. Worried. It’s not funny. Ryder is the father, and they want to get married in less than three weeks. That’s what I’m having trouble processing,” she said.
“The only thing that can change a person is love. They’ll be all right. I would have come on over sooner if I’d known you needed a shoulder.”
“I needed some time to wrap my mind around all this before I talked to anyone. The shock still hasn’t worn off,” she told him.
“Can you change any of it?”
“Not a thing,” she answered.
He sipped his beer for a few moments and then said, “Nice evenin’, isn’t it? We won’t get too many more of these. I bet this old swing could tell some stories if it could talk.”
“You are changing the subject,” she said.
“That I am. Fretting is not good for the soul.”
A friend would worry with her, let her talk circles around the whole thing, even if they couldn’t fix the problem. A best friend would help her to move past the problem and focus on something else to keep from going crazy. Andy had just proven to be the latter.
“Okay, you changed the subject, so what are we going to talk about?” Vicky took another drink from the bottle and then set it back on the porch railing.
“You.” Andy grinned, and her pulse jacked up a notch. “It’s crazy that our paths have never crossed before now. And to think it was all because of a strawberry tart.”