That was a lifetime ago.
“They smell great, Grandma,” he says, snapping me out of the past.
“Have one, Benny.”
He’s obedient, sitting at the table and picking at a hot muffin. Steam curls from the broken bread.
“Bree needs to get out of the house. I told her to run down and try the saltwater taffy in the pink shop.”
“Patrick’s? I can take you.” He puts the rest of his muffin in his mouth. “You coming, Grandma?”
“I need to get home.”
Disappointment falls over Benny’s face, and I don’t know how to take it. Does he think we need a buffer? How loud were my thoughts? Yes, I wanted to run my hands all over him, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it.
I havesomeself-control.
“Give me ten minutes,” I tell him, spooning a bite of eggs into my mouth. “I need to put on a whole new face.”
He cracks a smile. “I kind of like the one you have.”
Why does this bring a blush to my cheeks?
“I’m going to leave,” Nancy says. “Help her process things, Benny. She needs to move forward.”
He gives his grandmother a funny look, but nods.
“And take her to Sierra’s tonight. She could use some regular socialization.”
“When did you become Bree’s advocate?” he asks.
Nancy lifts a single eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” I answer for her. “But I like it.”
This earns me a flash of a smile from both of them before I whip away to find my blonde wig and mauve lip liner.
16
BREE
We stopat the cutest little shop on the side of the road. It’s painted Pepto-Bismol pink with white stripes and filled with every flavor of saltwater taffy I could have imagined—and many I would have been fine without knowing.
“Maple bacon?”
“It’s not too bad,” Benny says.
I pick up a few and toss them in my bag. “What about pickle?”
“I hate that one. But you should try it.” He reaches for a white one with multi-colored dots and takes a big handful. “You’ll love this one too.”
I lean around him and read the flavor: frosted cupcake. He knows my sweet tooth so well.
We fill two bags. I’ve picked at least one taffy in every single option, because this is a novelty and I need to try chili mango and cherry cola. But when I go to pay, Benny won’t let me cover it.
“I’ve got this,” he says, his cologne clouding around us and making me lightheaded.
“It’s my candy. I’m not letting you take this home tonight.”