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“Anytime really. Usually, I do something three or four times a year, but we haven’t done anything since spring. If you aren’t up for it now, we can wait until December or—”

“Not December,” she says quickly. “How about September or early October? It will be nice out. The fall colors will inspire us,” she adds.

I smile. “I love that.They’lllovethat. Thank you.”

Mabel, Sam, and Veda—all together with clay on their hands. It has the making of a sitcom episode written all over it.

“Gran?” a voice calls from the front of the house along with the sound of the opening and closing of the door.

“Back here!”

In a few booted steps, Bo steps into the sunroom.

I look at him as I put the last of the tools in their bins and bite my bottom lip to hide the smile that happens because it can’t not when he’s around.

“Birdie,” he says with a smile just big enough for his dimples to show through his beard.

He’s wearing his usual blue jeans, but instead of a T-shirt, he’s in a tucked-in blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

My, “Hi,” comes in a breathy whoosh that lets me know I like this look on himverymuch.

“Birdie, stop staring at him,” Veda says, making my face flush as she narrows her eyes at me before softening her face toward him. “Why are you all dressed up?”

He walks over to where she’s standing at the sink and gives her a hug and peck on the cheek.

“Meetings.” He looks at the table. “What did you girls make today?”

I point at the plastic wrapped vases. “Things that won’t hold water.”

He chuckles. “I like it.”

“What are you doing here?” Veda asks, rinsing the sponges.

“Just saying hi. I’m heading to get Lucy…and I needed some of these.” He grabs two Lincoln Logs from a basket I’ve never noticed and waves them around with a grin before doing a double take of Veda. “Is Birdie feeding you, Gran? You look like you’ve lost weight.”

When she turns around, I raise my eyebrows knowingly toward her, and her face morphs to a point in response. Our wordless battle begins.

“You know, Bo,” I say, holding her gaze. “I thought the same thing.”

She doesn’t shy away, eyes turning into little slits. “If Birdie would cook something edible, maybe I would—”

“Okay, okay,” Bo laughs, cutting her off, kissing her on the cheek. “I get the point. Birdie’s food is too healthy. Just don’t go withering away on me.”

While his voice is playful, Veda and I stand in a stubborn staring contest.

MyI know something is going on with youmeets herI’m not telling you a damn thing.

Finally, when my eyes start to burn from not blinking, I relent, and damn her for the smug look on her face when I do.

“I should get going,” I say, looking at Bo as I start out of the sunroom.

“I’ll walk you out,” he says, walking out ahead of me. “Gran, I’ll be right back.”

“Veda,” I say sweetly. She smiles so innocently I almost laugh. “See you Monday.”

With one last look at her, I grab my purse and walk the short distance to the front porch where Bo is waiting.

“She might be the death of me,” I say with a laugh mixed with a sigh as we walk across the yard to my van.