Our Kind of Love

Chapter 1-2

At the crash of shattering glass, Abbey bolted through the backdoor, into the kitchen, to find her grandfather scowling and her mother clenching a dishtowel in white-knuckled fingers.

“Honestly, Roy.”

“I don’t want turnip greens!”

Abbey eyed the food among the shards of plate on the floor. It appeared to be a spinach salad. That kind of day, then. She slid past the mess to a grab the dustpan and whisk broom from under the sink. “Take a break. I’ve got it.”

Faye turned away and braced her hands on the counter, her silvering blonde hair falling forward to hide her face and the inevitable tears. They’d all shed plenty since their journey with his dementia began.

Abbey worked up a cheerful smile and crouched to sweep up the mess. “Hey, Granddaddy.”

“Hey, Butter Bean! How was school today? Did you pass that algebra test?”

Though she was more than a decade past high-school graduation, Abbey rolled with the conversation. “Aced it, as always.” When he was caught in the past, it was just easier to indulge him than to try to bring him back to now.

He slapped his knee. “That’s my girl!”

“How was your day?”

“Up to my elbows in the engine of the truck. Damned thing’s making that knocking noise again.”

She hoped he hadn’t been trying to “fix” the engine on his own. They already had to hide the keys to keep him from trying to drive anything. With another glance at her mother, she dumped the mess into the trash and shifted into redirect mode.

“Want to split an apple and peanut butter before dinner?” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We won’t tell Mom.” If he was in a recalcitrant eating mood, she could always coax him into eating an apple, so at least he had something nutritious.

Granddaddy tapped the side of his nose and grinned to acknowledge the shared secret. The man loved the idea of getting away with stuff.

Grabbing one of the glossy red Rome Beauties from a bowl on the counter and the jar of peanut butter from the pantry, she dropped into a chair beside her favorite person in the world and told him about her fictional day, filling it with things she remembered from high school. Not too hard since she’d gone to school with most of the folks she now worked with at the Misfit Spa, just outside Eden’s Ridge. After a few minutes, her mom returned to dinner prep. Engaged with the everyday stories, Granddaddy ate the apple slices, not noticing that she gave him all of them. By the time she neared the end of the apple, her dad came in.

“Whatever’s for dinner smells amazing, hon.” Mark kissed the lines of strain on her mother’s brow.

“Sure does,” Granddaddy agreed. “Kyle better hurry on up, or he’ll be late.”

Abbey’s hands fisted in her lap, as they always did when Granddaddy brought up Kyle like he was still a daily part of their lives, still part of the family. “He’s not here for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, too bad. I was hoping to get him to play for us after dinner.”

The memory of all the nights he’d done exactly that had Abbey’s throat going tight. It had been ten years. Would the mere mention of him ever stop being a knife through the heart?

This time, it was her father who stepped in to do the rescuing. “Actually, Dad, I was hoping to talk to you about some plans for the north orchard.”

As Faye served dinner, talk turned to the business of apples—the thing most of her family had devoted their lives to for four generations. The conversation didn’t take much participation on her part. Abbey found her mind wandering to Kyle. It didn’t matter that she’d cut him out of her life a decade ago. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t been home in longer than that. He was so much a part of her history here that his echo was everywhere.

No matter how much she wanted to forget him, there was no living back in Eden’s Ridge without having reminders, even without Granddaddy’s memory lapses. She worked with his foster sisters, hung out right next door to where he’d spent his high school years, and saw the house where he’d grown up, a stone’s throw from her own, every time she stepped outside.

At least she’d been living in Atlanta when everything had blown all to hell. She’d been able to hide her devastation. As far as anyone else knew, they’d had some kind of falling out and drifted apart. She’d never breathed a word of the truth about what had happened. Better she be the only one he hurt. But God, she wished she could make him as unimportant to her as she was to him. Wished, too, that she could stop him from starring in her fantasies. But Dream Abbey was as much of a fool as ever.

Talk shifted from the orchard to town gossip, providing a decent distraction from her thoughts.

"I heard they broke ground on the new small business incubator this week,” Mark said.

Relieved to have something to contribute to the conversation, Abbey jumped in. “Oh, yeah, Maggie said things are moving right along with that. They’re hoping to open the doors later this fall.”

“I don’t know how she’s going to juggle that and the Artisan Guild and a baby,” Faye remarked.

“I’m pretty sure she’s looking for someone else to take over management of the Guild.”

They continued to discuss potential candidates for that. By the end of the meal, Granddaddy was back in the now, and he’d eaten the spinach salad without complaint.

“Well, I reckon I’ll turn in. Got an early day tomorrow. Faye, that was delicious. Thank you.” Granddaddy shoved back from the table, and they all braced to see how his balance would be. He took a staggering step or two before leveling out.

“I’ll walk up with you. I need to grab some stuff for the laundry.” Mark trailed him out of the room, ready and waiting to make sure Granddaddy navigated the stairs okay.

Faye began to rise, but Abbey pressed her back into her chair. “I’ve got the dishes, Mom. You take a few.”

Her mother scrubbed both hands over her face, no longer trying to hide the exhaustion. “He was agitated all day until you got home.”

“You know it’s because I look like Grandma Ruth. And because I’m his favorite.”

“You are that.”

Abbey scraped, rinsed, and loaded plates into the dishwasher and started in on the pots and pans. She finished up with the last one as her dad came back into the room.

“He’s settled.” Mark sank into a chair himself and took his wife’s hand.

Draping the dishtowel over the ledge of the sink, Abbey inhaled a bracing breath and turned to face her parents. “I have something I want to talk to you both about.”

Faye paled even more. “What?”

Abbey hated that her mother’s first thought was that it was something bad. “The last couple of years have been really draining. You both need a break. A real one. More than the occasional treatment at the spa.” Crossing the room, she pulled the packet out of her purse. “So, you’re going to take one.”

Her dad frowned. “What are you talking about, baby?”

Extracting the contents of the manilla folder, she slid the slick brochure across the kitchen table. “I’ve arranged for you to take a ten-day cruise to the Caribbean.”

“Don’t be crazy. We can’t up and go off on vacation. Your grandfather—”

“Does well with me. It’s the off-season for the orchard, and Lewis and Ryder have things well-in-hand if anything comes up. It’s your thirty-fifth anniversary. I’ve already bought the tickets and everything. You leave out of Mobile tomorrow afternoon.”

Tears glittered in Faye’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have done this, honey. We can’t go.”

“Yes, you can. I’ve already made arrangements with all my friends to help, and I talked to Farrah Murchison about putting him in programming at the senior center to try it out. We’ve got everything here covered. You already hadn’t been on a vacation in more years than I can count before his dementia hit. Let me do this for you.”

Mark was looking a little watery himself. “I… don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll go and have a good time and know I’ve got everything covered back here. Granddaddy and I will be fine.” She might need a vacation herself when it was through, but it would be worth it to give her parents this gift.

Her mother opened the brochure. “There’s all-you-can-eat buffets and onboard music. And snorkeling! I always wanted to try snorkeling.”

Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, and Abbey knew she had them. “Okay then, we’ll go snorkeling.” He reached out his free hand to take Abbey’s. “Thank you for this. It already means so much that you moved home to help with Dad. This is above and beyond.”

“It’s what you deserve.” Shoving back from the table, she made a shooing motion. “Now, hurry on up. Y’all need to pack.”