An Accidental Family. Ami Weaver
But of course it would matter to Grandma. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I didn’t know you two were friends.”
“We are. We met awhile back when she volunteered for Senior Services and just clicked, as you young people say. She comes out every Wednesday. More if she can. I didn’t think you knew her.” His grandmother’s eyes were sharp on his face.
“I don’t. Just knew of her. She was four years behind me in school, as you said. How are you feeling?”
She studied him for a second, then seemed to accept the change of topic. “Every day is a little harder. I’m so glad you’re here and can make this old house a little easier to live in. I don’t want to leave it.”
These last words were spoken in a soft tone. Ben knew this was the only home she’d lived in with his grandfather, her husband of fifty years. Her best friend.
The kind of love and relationship he’d ended for Jason and Callie.
Pain pounded at his temples and he closed his eyes. He shoved it down, locked it back into the deepest part of him he could. Thing was, that place was nearly full these days.
“You won’t have to leave, Grandma. You’ll have to tell me what you’d like done besides the ramp. Even in the dark I noticed the walk out front has seen better days.”
Her smile was rueful. “A lot around here has seen better days, Ben.”
“We’ll get it fixed up, Grandma. You won’t have to leave,” he repeated.
“I know. I’m very grateful to you.” She maneuvered the chair toward the living room. “Let me show you to your room. Well, partway anyway.”
Ben started to say he knew where it was, but of course she’d have taken over the downstairs bedroom after the arthritis in her hip got too bad. “Which one?” There were three upstairs.
She stopped at the base of the stairs and looked up, the sorrow and longing clear on her face. “The back bedroom. It has the best view and is the biggest room. Lainey freshened it up for you. Dusted, clean sheets, the whole shebang. The bathroom is ready, too.”
His grandparents’ old room.
“Okay. Tell her thanks for me.”
Grandma backed her chair up and gave him a little smile. “You can tell her yourself. Didn’t I mention she visits a lot?”
He stared at her. Uh-oh. “Grandma. I’m not interested.”
She slid him a look and her smile widened. “No one said you were.”
He’d walked right into that one.
Smoke filled the room, smothering him, searing his lungs, his eyes, his skin. God, he couldn’t see through the gray haze. A cough wracked him, tearing at his parched throat. He couldn’t yell for his friend. Where was Jason? He couldn’t reach him. Had to get him out before the house came down around them. A roar, a crack, and a fury of orange lit the room. The ceiling caved in a crash fueled by the roar of flames. He spun around, but the door was blocked by a flaming heap of debris. Under it, a boot. Jason. Coming to save him.
Ben woke with a start, his eyes watering and the breath heaving out of his lungs as if he’d been sprinting for his life. Where the hell was he? Moonlight slanted through the window, silver on the floor. The curtain stirred in the faint breeze. He sat up and pushed himself through the fog of sleep. Grandma Rose’s house. Had he cried out? God, what if she’d heard him? Shame flowed over him like a lava river. He stepped out of bed, mindful of the creaky floor, and walked down the hall to the bathroom near the landing.
No sound came from downstairs.
He exhaled a shaky breath and went into the bathroom. He’d been afraid of this—of the nightmare coming. He had no power over it—over what it was, what it did to him. No control.
He turned on the squeaky faucet with unsteady hands and splashed cold water on his face. There’d be no more sleep for him tonight.
CHAPTER TWO
LAINEY WALKED INTO Frank’s Grocery after closing the shop and pulled out her mental shopping list. Nothing fancy. Just sauce, pasta, shrimp, some good cheese. If she had more energy she’d make the sauce from scratch, but not tonight. So far the hardest thing about being pregnant was being so tired at the end of the day. She grabbed a basket from the stack and headed for the first aisle.
She came to a dead stop when she spotted the tall, dark-haired man frowning at the pasta sauce display.
Oh, no. Ben Lawless.
She didn’t want to chat with Rose’s grumpy grandson. He’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in being friendly. Since he stood smack in front of the sauce she needed, though, she’d have to talk to him.
He glanced up as she approached. For a heartbeat she found herself caught by those amazing light green eyes, by the grief she saw searing through them.
What the heck? She cleared her throat. “How are you?”
He tipped his head in her direction, his expression now neutral. “Fine, thanks.”
His uninterest couldn’t have been clearer, though his tone was perfectly polite.
“I just need to get in here.” She pointed to the shelves in front of him. He stepped back, hindered by a woman and cart behind him, and Lainey slipped in, bumping him in the process. A little shiver of heat ran through her. “Sorry,” she muttered, and grabbed the jar with fingers that threatened to turn to butter.
She managed to wiggle back out, brushing him again, thanks to the oblivious woman behind him who kept him penned between them. She plopped the sauce into her basket and offered what she hoped passed for a smile. “Um, thanks.”
“No problem,” he murmured.
She turned around and hurried out of the aisle, unsettled by both the physical contact and his apparent loss. So Ben had a few secrets. That flash of grief, deep and wrenching, hit her again.
Rose had never mentioned anything. Then again, why would she? She’d respect her grandson’s privacy. It was one of the things Lainey loved about her friend.
It only took a few more minutes to gather the rest of the ingredients. Her path didn’t cross Ben’s again, and she unloaded her few purchases at the checkout with relief.
Outside, she took a big breath of the cool night air, and some of the tension knotted inside her eased. Fall was her favorite time of year. A mom and small daughter examined a display of pumpkins outside Frank’s and her thoughts shifted back to her baby. Next year she’d be carving a pumpkin for her five-month-old. Oh, sure, he or she would be too small to appreciate it, but despite the precariousness of her position the idea gave her a little thrill.
She deposited the bags in the trunk and slipped into the driver’s seat to start the car.
Click. Then nothing.
Oh, no. Maybe if she tried it again….
Click.
She leaned forward, rested her head on the steering wheel, and fought the urge to scream. Not owning any jumper cables, she’d have to go back into Frank’s and find someone who did. While she was at it she’d hope like crazy the problem was simply a dead battery, and not something expensive. She yanked the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse and got out of the car. One thing was for sure—she’d push the stupid car home before she’d ask her parents for help.
She nearly collided with Ben coming out of the store.
“Whoa,” he said, checking his cart before he ran her down.
Before she could think, she blurted, “Can you help me?” Her face heated as he stared at her. “Ah, never mind. I’ll find …” She gestured vaguely behind