Mind Games

When she started putting cookies in a container, he leaned on the island, took another. “The little vase was Granny’s.”

“Oh. I’ll get it back to you.”

“No, I’d like you to have it, if you’d want it. I’m still going through all her things, figuring out what matters, what doesn’t. I gave her that for Christmas when I was a kid. I know how she felt about you, and think she’d like you to have it.”

When she looked up at him, her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, it’s the day.” She swiped at tears that spilled. “I miss her. I really miss seeing her most days even just to wave if I was taking a walk. And seeing him out there?”

She gestured outside where Bray sat having what appeared to be a serious conversation with Bunk beside the chicken coop.

“It reminds me how much I loved doing just that starting about the same age when we—Rem and I—had our two-week summer visit with Grammie. How it was even better than Christmas, and counting the days until we’d drive down from Virginia. I loved my parents, but I couldn’t wait till they drove off again, and it was just me and Rem and Grammie, the dogs, the chickens, the cow, the goat, the hills.”

She let out a sigh. “It’s the day,” she repeated. “We lost my parents fifteen years ago today.”

“God, Thea, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry we just dropped in this way.”

“I hope you won’t be, because it felt good to see you both at the door. You blew some of the clouds away. We go to lay flowers, the three of us, every morning on this day, then spend some time together.

“When I came home—I can never work on this day—I made cookies and lemonade to have something to do. After, I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. And there you were.”

She used the heels of her hands now as the tears refused to stop. “And this morning, when I left to get Rem and Grammie, I heard you playing the piano, and it helped settle me. Hearing the music, knowing someone Miss Leona loved was inside her house, playing music.”

Hesitating, Ty started to shove his hands in his pockets. Instead, he went with instinct and did what he’d do if Bray cried.

He went around the island, and held her.

“I’m sorry,” she began.

“I hope you won’t be.” He echoed her words. “Seems like you need to get it out.”

“I don’t cry at their graves anymore. I know they’re not there, and the stone, the flowers are for us. They’re everywhere else, and that usually comforts me. But this day…”

“You were just a kid. That had to be brutal.” He stroked a hand down her hair. “They had an accident?”

“No. No,” she said again, and the tears drained out of her voice as she drew back. “They were murdered.”

Shock flashed over his face, into his voice. “God, Thea.”

“They were murdered in their bed while Rem and I were here with Grammie. He shot them for these earrings”—she closed a finger over her right earlobe—“and a watch and a few other things. He shot them because he could.”

“Who?”

“His name is Ray Riggs, and he’s in prison. He’ll be in prison the rest of his life. And somehow, it’s still not enough. At least not on this day.”

“I’m sorry. Words don’t cut it, but I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t expect to say all that, but I did. And you listened, and I feel steadier for it.”

She picked up a cookie. “Thank you.”

She still had tears on her lashes, Ty thought, when she smiled at him. They put a quick, hard dent in his heart.

“Sure. We should give you some space.”

“Let me finish boxing up these cookies, and I’ll get your eggs. I promise not to cry on your shoulder next time you come by. Of course, now you’ve fulfilled a sixteen-year-old’s dream. Tyler Brennan put his arms around me.”