I wouldn’t say Cal looks at home on the farm... but he doesn’t look entirely out of place.

And when Daddy takes him to the barn and shows him his old motorcycle, that he couldn’t get up and running after he nearly totaled it about a decade ago, I see that Cal will have no problem shooting the shit with my dad for a few days.

As soon as those two seem comfortable, I slip away to the house to visit with Grandma. Dad says she’s had a hard few days, her multiple sclerosis can flare up for either hours or months at a time. When she’s feeling well, she can get around on her scooter, go to the Bridge Club, and the library, but on her bad days, she stays put. I’m glad I can keep her company today, knowing how she always gets so lonely when she’s confined to her bedroom.

“How you doing in that big city, sweetheart?” she asks, looking at me warmly. I go to hand her a glass of iced tea but it’s obvious that the full glass of ice cubes will be much too heavy for her. Her skin is thin, her hands shake. My Grandma has aged a decade in the month I’ve been gone. I can’t imagine how she’ll be doing in another month.

I blink back tears and hold the straw to Gram’s lips. “It’s going okay.”

“I see you’ve already brought yourself back a boy.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He calls himself a man.” I smile, sitting next to Gram’s bed in a familiar armchair. Her hand crocheted doilies are placed on the armrests, the same way as they’ve always been. My heart aches, knowing her fingers hurt too much to crochet or quilt anymore, two of her favorite things in the world. That, and planting a flower garden every year.

I hate what her illness has done to her, but even more than that, I hate the fact I’m missing time with her so I can flaunt myself around Hollywood. In this moment, that means nothing. Right now, all I see is the person who I’ve lived with my entire life, dying painfully.

“Well, man or not,” she tells me, “I admit to being surprised to see you coming home so soon.”

I straighten the sheets around Gram, not meeting her eyes. “Cal needed a bit of breathing room.” Grandma nods at that, understanding. I’d called her and Dad the night on the bridge when we’d found Sawyer’s note. They listened to me cry about the tragedy, how we couldn’t save him, and they’ve called every day since then to check in on me. “Nowhere better to heal than right here in Resting Hollow.”

“And you weren’t just jumping on the opportunity to make sure your old Gram hadn’t kicked the bucket?”

My eyes shoot up. “Gram, don’t talk like that. You have a lot of life left in you. Besides, this right here is my favorite place in the entire world.”

Gram smiles sadly. “Oh, Jules. You’ve always been so good to me. Wasted your youth making sure I was taken care of. I’m gonna be okay, you know. It’s you I’m worried about.” When I don’t answer she continues. “Your daddy, he’s gonna be okay too. Live your life, sweetie.”

“Can’t this be my life? Can’t living here in this house with the people I love be enough?”

“And what would that city slicker boy in the barn think about living here in Resting?”

I shake my head. “Honestly? I don’t know. But Cal is not a city slicker. He’s nothing like the other guys in LA who have stylists and get blowouts. Cal is the salt of the earth and just happens to come from money.”

Grandma tsk-tsks me.

“What?”

“Honey, your father told me this boy flew you home in a private jet and you’re trying to tell me he’s just a regular sort of man who’d make a life in a town that’s not even big enough for a Wal-Mart?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. We aren’t even serious.” I pick at the fabric of Grandma’s quilt. “But I really like him. And that’s a first for me. And truthfully, I could see myself here with him. One of the reasons I like him so much is that he’s so authentic. There’s no pretending to be something he isn’t. Everyone in LA is obsessed with themselves and don’t consider the costs involved—”

“Like your roommates?”

My eyes narrow. “You heard about them?”

“We may live in Resting, but this is not Timbuktu. I watch E! News like everyone else in this county. And everyone knows about your supermodel roommates and the poor boy who took his life.”

“I feel so bad that Gretchen and Collette got mixed up in that a scandal. But what happened to Sawyer is just...” I shake my head.

“I know, dear.” Grandma takes my hand. “Death is never easy. That’s why we have to make the most of the time we have on God’s green earth, understand?”

“I’m not sure I do.” I hang my head, wondering how anyone is supposed to pick up the pieces after losing someone they love. It’s taken years for me to heal after losing Mom, and still, one whiff off honeysuckle and I’m near tears all over again. I want to help Cal through his hard time, but I’m not sure I know how.

“When did my Jules, with the megawatt smile, become so damn gloomy?”

“Cal’s best friend died. I don’t know how to cheer him up—or if even trying is a bad idea.”

“It’s never a bad idea to try to cheer someone up.” Grandma narrows her eyes. “You have been cheering him up, haven’t you? Because that might be the best you can do for a while. Talking things out is hard for men, but being physical? They can always manage that.”

“Grandma!” I cover my mouth in shock, laughing. “Are you telling me to sleep with him?”

“Well, aren’t you? I got a good look at him when he came in my room earlier to introduce himself. I think you’d be a fool not to try to make him as happy as possible.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Mom would die if she heard you right now.”

My word choice hangs in the air.

Grandma pats my hand. “Jules, your mama was many things, but she was not a prude. And neither am I. Life is a hard apple no matter how you cut it, might as well add those diced apples to a butter crust and make yourself a pie.” She rests a palm to my cheek. “And sweetie, have a slice for both of us, why doncha?”