Page 118 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“The bar was packed and he’s not exactly unpopular. But I recall your mom made the comment that she wished you’d find a man like that. A sexy cowboy. Your dad teased her mercilessly for that. Said he was going to go home and buy a pair of boots to wear around the house naked.”

“Oh my God.” I buried my face in my hands, torn between laughing and crying. Because that was so them. And the fact that they’d met Griff, just knowing they’d seen his face . . . I didn’t know why it was important to me, but it was.

Tears won out over the laughter, and as a few leaked down my face, Pops put his hand on my shoulder.

“I miss them.”

“Me too,” he said.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“We don’t talk about them enough, sweetheart.”

“That’s my fault.” It had been too hard for too long.

“I’d like to. If you’re all right with it.”

I nodded. “I’d like that too, Pops.”

He squeezed my shoulder, then stood. “How about a snack? I’m hungry.”

“I can get it.”

“You stay.”

The whoosh of the river was my soundtrack as I replayed my conversation with Pops. For too long, I’d held Mom and Dad close. I’d hoarded their memories. But we needed to bring them into our lives.

Griffin might not have known them like Skyler, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Through my memories, he’d know them. Through my love for them, they’d be part of our future.

Pops returned with a plate overflowing with red grapes, whole-wheat crackers and baby carrots. All things I’d brought him earlier this week.

“Are you in a rush to head home?” he asked after the plate was empty.

“No. Why?”

“How about a game of backgammon?”

“That would be fun.” I hadn’t played in ages. Not since before Dad had died. Backgammon had been his favorite game to play with Pops. Then he’d taught me.

Pops and I played for hours, until the heat from the afternoon sun drove us inside to the dining room table, where we played one last game.

“That was fun.” He grinned as he put the board away.

“It sure was. But I’d better head home.”

“Whose home?”

“Griffin’s,” I corrected, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Thanks, Pops.”

“Love you, sweetheart.” He hugged me tighter, then let me go. “Have a good night.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

We’d played longer than I’d expected, and by the time I got outside, it was close to dinnertime. I pulled my personal phone from my pocket—the station phone was in the other, and though carrying two phones was a huge pain in the ass, since Pops’s heart attack, I hadn’t gone anywhere without either, fully charged.

I was about to call Griffin and see if he wanted me to stop downtown and pick up something for dinner, but before I could unlock the screen, the clank of metal on metal carried from the house next door.

“Hey, cutie,” Frank called from the garage. He was wearing a grease-stained pair of jeans. A red rag was hanging out of a front pocket.