“Oh no,” I gasp.
“What is it?” Anchor asks.
“She’s in the hospital. She had a stroke,” Graham tells us.
Tears fill my eyes. “Oh god. We need to go home.”
10
ANCHOR
The idea of Lemon leaving the lake house the day after we met slays me.
I'm not going to let her leave without a fight.
Her eyes reach mine before I even need to clear my throat and declare myself.
"Can we talk?" she asks me.
Her brothers seem to understand that this conversation is none of their goddamn business. They turn off the grill and place the hamburger patties they've been cooking on a platter.
"We're just going to take these on inside. All right, Lemon?" Mac tells her.
"Thanks," she says, "I guess we ought to eat before we start trekking home." She looks at her watch. “It's six in the evening and it'll be a few hours’ drive to get back to Home.”
Alone on the back porch, she steps closer to me, presses a hand on my chest, and damn, I can't help but wrap my arms around her waist. "Hey," I say, "your grandma's going to be okay." I tell her something I know I have no business promising, but I need to comfort her in some small way.
"I love her so much," Lemon says. "My whole childhood, she was a part of it and I can't..." Tears fill her eyes.
I press my lips to her forehead and kiss her softly. "Hey, hey, I got you. It's all right."
She presses a hand to her eyes, wiping away her tears. "And we were having such a good day, and now this." She shakes her head. "I hate leaving you.”
“Do you want me to drive you home?" I ask.
Her eyes find mine. "You'd do that for me?"
"I don't exactly want to let you go. And I don't think you're fit to drive home right now, anyways.” This girl, she's shaking, scared. I understand. I’ve lost people I love too. God willing, her grandma won't be gone anytime soon.
"I know you could hitch a ride with your brothers," I tell her. "They're protective of you. I can see that, but so am I, Lemon. I want what's best for you too."
"Thank you. I would love you to drive me home. I feel like..." She swallows. "You ground me in a way my brothers don’t. I just need..."
"I know," I tell her, "you need to be able to sit in a car and think things through in peace and quiet. Why don't you pack up whatever you want to, and I'll go do the same and we'll get on the road. All right? Maybe you can eat a burger before we go?" I run my hands over her shoulders. "How's that sound?"
She nods. "That all sounds like a good idea."
"It's going to be a long night, but we'll get through it together," I tell her.
I'm making big declarations. Inside, my heart is screaming, What the hell are you doing, Anchor?
I've never been the kind of man who commits, who stays. I've avoided relationships my entire life because I have this fear deep down that anyone good, anyone I love, is going to leave.
But I'm forcing myself to push past that right now so I can give myself to Lemon.
An hour later, we're on the road, bags packed, food in our bellies and driving over the mountains. I put on a playlist of some indie folk and tell her to close her eyes if she needs to rest.
She reaches out for my hand, laces her fingers with it, as she settles into the passenger seat of my Jeep. "I like your car," she tells me.
I chuckle. "Yeah?" I look over at her.
She nods. "It looks like you."
"And what do I look like, Lemon?"
She sighs. "Strong, rugged, like no one can push you down."
I smile at that as we cross the mountains. "What kind of car do you drive?" I ask her, thinking about her behind the wheel.
"I drive a Subaru. I'm pretty basic," she says.
"You're not basic, Lemon. You're lovely."
Her hand squeezes mine at those words.
And I may be faking it till I make it, in terms of staying put when the going gets tough, but Lemon makes it easy.
Lemon is not at all sour. This girl, she's the kind of sweet I need.
Then she brings up the topic I’ve been dreading. “So, the reality show? Can you tell me about that?”
“Right,” I start, hesitantly. “Where do I begin? That show was me at my worst.”
“And yet you won?”
“It was a competition; I got lucky that I was good at all the challenges. If the winner was voted on for best personality, I would have been dead last.”
“I feel like it’s the tip of the iceberg of what I don’t know about you,” she says softly.
I look over at her. “That isn’t true. I don’t have deep, dark secrets I’m hiding. I am an open book. Thing is, I’ve never shared that book with anyone.”