She looked out the window at the cold, rainy day, part of her expecting him to suddenly appear on the sidewalk, but he wasn’t there, of course. He was in Louisville until tomorrow night, which meant that she would have to bear her sorrow alone for a little longer.
“You want anythin’ else?” asked her father, and she shook her head no. “Want to meet me at Wright’s later on today? They said the wake’ll be on Monday night and the fun’ral on Tuesday mornin’. Not too much to arrange, really.”
“I’ll be there, Daddy.”
“Your momma never much liked your gran.”
Ginger shrugged. “Her loss.”
“She felt threatened, I think. My momma was a force to be reckoned with.”
“And mine isn’t?” asked Ginger.
Her father chuckled softly. “I think she’s mellowin’ with age.”
“As long as she understands that Colin Greenvale and I aren’t happenin’.”
“I’ll have a word, let her know that Cain might be comin’ around more often.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “Cain and I are still very . . . new.”
“And here I thought the whole point of your gran’s letter was that, actually, you aren’t.”
Her father took twenty dollars from his billfold and laid it on the table, then stood up and slid from the booth. “Three o’clock at Wright’s, daughter. See you there.”
As she drove home, the rain started falling harder, until her windshield wipers were slamming back and forth and the windshield still wasn’t clear.
Which was why she didn’t see Cain waiting on her front porch until she was running into the house.
She stopped in her tracks, the cold rain pelting her as she stared up at him.
He was wearing blue camouflage fatigues with thick black boots. In his hand he held his blue cap, and he worried it between his hands, searching her eyes gravely as she approached.
When she stopped, he rushed down the steps and grabbed her hand, pulling her under the awning and into his arms.
“Are you AWOL?” she asked.
“No, baby,” he said, “I got permission to leave as soon as I got your text.”
Her eyes closed, and she let all her sadness, all her weariness, rush forth, making her body sag against him. He swooped her into his arms. “Where’s your key?”
She nestled into his neck, sighing with relief. “Extra one’s always over the door.”
Holding her with one arm, he reached up and felt for the key, then opened the door and stepped into her kitchen. He used his elbow to close the door, then stepped from the kitchen into her small sitting room and sat down on the couch, still holding her in his arms.
“How are you?”
“Better now,” she said.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“You are here.”
“How’s your daddy?”
“Sad. But he knew it was comin’.” She lifted her head to look up at him. “I missed you.”
Cain dropped his lips to hers, dots of rainwater caught between them as he kissed her gently. “I missed you too.”
“Gran told me . . . about how you visited her.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “She did?”
“A letter.”
“She shouldn’t have said anythin’,” he said. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I’d never want you to think I was butterin’ up your gran just to get to you.”
“Cain,” she said, “when will you learn?”
“Learn what?”
“You skipped the most stones. You saved my doll. You knew I wasn’t breakable. You brought me back to life. You visited my Gran. Do you know what a good man you are? Because I do. I’ve always known. And I love you.”
“I’ll miss her,” said Cain. “Never had a grandmother of my own. Sort of got used to visitin’ her.”
“She liked you very much.”
He grinned. “I liked her too.”
She closed her eyes, burrowing her face into his neck. “I’m so tired. How do you feel about takin’ me upstairs and holdin’ me while I fall asleep?”
He pressed his lips to her hair, then stood up with her still in his arms and started for the stairs. “That’s why I’m here, sweet girl.”
“And come to Wright’s at three.”
“If you want me there. You could Tell Mr. Wright I’m a friend of the family. And I’ll, uh . . .” He cleared his throat as he started up the stairs. “I’ll go to the funeral on my own, so no one knows we’re together.”
She waited until he’d laid her gently on her bed, taken off his boots, and gotten under the covers with her, facing her.
“Cain,” she said softly, reaching for his cheek and caressing it tenderly, “will you sit beside me at my grandmother’s wake on Monday night, and will you escort me to her funeral on Tuesday? Will you come back here to McHuid’s and receive guests with me on Tuesday afternoon, and when they leave, will you come back here to my cottage and stay the night in my bed? And when people ask who you are to me, will you tell them that you’re my boyfriend and I’m your girlfriend, and will you hold my hand for the whole town to see?”
“Princess, are you—”