In the wake of her father's death, Spencer Edwards' mother packs up their lives from Oxford, England, and moves them to the middle-of-nowhere Texas. With an agitation for agriculture, and a distaste for anything farming, the small town of Cherry Spr...
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I know that hope is the hardest love we carry. - Jane Hirshfield
Chapter Song - Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier
"Mum." I whine, watching her walk back and forth as she packs her handbag for the day.
"I'm sorry, Spencer. I don't have anytime today, the boys need me to drive them all day," she tells me, her face sympathetic. "Ask grandma, maybe you can borrow her car."
I huff. "Fine."
Popping my head into each room, I find grandma tending to her flowers in the backyard. Her hum erupts a small smile on my lips, but I don't have time to stand and watch her peacefulness from afar.
Or wonder about her grief. I should be wandering through my own, but wondering about others grief overclouds and puts mine in the shadows. A dark place full of future love I can't bare to step into and feel.
Feeling, the worst and the best of life of all.
"Grandma, are you using your car today?" I ask her.
She pauses her action, turning to face me. "I am, did you need to get somewhere?" She asks.
"There's a mathematics professor from Harvard giving a lecture in Austin today, I need either a car to drive or a ride. Do you have either?" I explain my predicament.
Her face crinkles in sympathy for bad news before she says anything. "Seriously? How is everyone busy on a Tuesday? It's a bloody Tuesday!" I ramble out as I turn to head back inside and dwell on how to fix my problem.
I could catch the train, but the nearest train station is in the town over - and I'd need a ride to get there as well. Problem after problem keeps arising for any other solution my brain conjures up, and I've about had it until grandma speaks up again.
"Maverick is home today, I went over just before to give some of my herbs. He doesn't seem to be doing much, I'm sure he'll give you a ride into the city." Her idea is both perfect and creates this sizzling sweet hotness in my body at the thought.
Just the thought of him alone, not even with the added imagination of spending a long period of alone time with him.
"That could work," I say with a tightness in my voice. "I'll go ask, thanks grandma." A quick smile her way, and I'm grabbing my handbag, keys, and phone before heading out the front door and to his.
Across the dirt road in my glossy Mary Janes, I'm on a creaky porch and knocking like a mad man on Mavericks front door. I sure do hope he's the only one home, cause unless not, that's completely humiliating for me.
But he answers.
Thankfully.
"Mornin', Darlin'." He says, and alright, maybe not thankfully. Now I'm just a bit hot and bothered. "Did you need something?" He asks.
