The Quietest Shop on Main (Shops on Main #3)

Chapter 17

17

S kyla forced down another bite of mashed potatoes, but the food was sour in her mouth and she barely managed to swallow.

Grandpa was still sleeping.

She’d tried to get him when dinner was ready, but he’d muttered something at her and said to eat without him. Said he wasn’t feeling well.

“Do you want me to call a doctor?” Dalton asked softly, his eyes roving over her face.

Skyla shook her head. “No. I’m sure it’s fine,” she said quickly. “Besides, it’s Thanksgiving. We’d have to go to the hospital. No one else is going to be open.”

Dalton nodded, his eyes straying to the hallway. “Has he been like this before?”

Skyla poked at her food. “Yeah. Every once in a while he gets a spell that knocks him down for a bit. But after the stroke, they said he’d probably be more tired. And it’s not as if they can treat him for needing more sleep.”

Dalton’s warm hand rested on her neck, and he massaged it a little. “Holiday aside, if we need to, we’ll run him in.”

Skyla leaned her shoulder into Dalton’s. “Thanks.”

He nodded and took another bite of turkey. “I think you need to give me cooking lessons,” he said around his full mouth. “You’re really good at this.”

Skyla’s smile relaxed a little at his compliment. “I’m always happy to teach you what I know, but I’ll be honest. It isn’t much.”

“It’s more than either of us can do,” Analiese piped up from across the table. She closed her eyes as she chewed on a bite of roll. “I haven’t had homemade bread in forever.”

Skyla relaxed even more. “It was my grandmother’s recipe.”

Analiese opened her eyes and tilted her head. “So…you were raised by John and his wife?”

Skyla swallowed and nodded. “Yep.”

“When did your mother pass away?”

“Liese,” Dalton hissed.

Skyla put a hand on his arm. “No. It’s fine. I have some good memories of my mother, but they’re less strong than my grandparents.” She smiled at Analiese to show it was fine. “I was eight. Grandma and Grandpa have always been there.”

Analiese frowned. “My parents are still alive.”

Skyla nodded. “You two were raised here, right?”

“We moved away during middle school,” Dalton inserted. “Dad’s job. But…” He glanced at Analiese.

“But after my disastrous wedding, Dalton brought me back to save face,” Analiese added.

“That wasn’t how it went,” Dalton scolded.

“It was,” Analiese insisted. She sighed and set her fork down. “I was broken, and my parents didn’t understand. Dad thought I should just shake it off, and Mom had no idea what to do with me. She assumed it was just a misunderstanding. She thought we could work out if I would just talk to him.” Analiese shrugged one shoulder. “So…like always, it was Dalton to the rescue. He left med school, bought a boat, got his license, and started his tours, giving me a job in the process.”

The more Skyla learned about Dalton, the more the image of a knight fit. Was there anyone he didn’t rescue? “While I'm sorry about the way it happened,” Skyla began, “I’m not sorry you’re here.”

Dalton’s hand landed on her knee. “I’m glad we’re here too.”

Analiese snorted. “You two are so sugary sweet, you give me a cavity.”

“Maybe it’ll rub off on you,” Dalton said with a too-innocent grin.

“Grandpa!” Skyla jumped to her feet when Grandpa came slowly walking down the hallway. “Let me?—”

“I’ve got him.” Dalton wrapped an arm around Grandpa’s torso and helped guide him to his chair at the table. “Easy does it,” Dalton murmured.

Skyla stood by, ready to help but Dalton seemed to have it all in hand. She heard her grandpa mutter something under his breath, but Skyla ignored it. Grandpa wasn’t one to enjoy being weak. This illness must be terribly hard on him.

Still, she couldn’t help but wish he would simply allow them to help when necessary. It would certainly make her life easier, but probably wasn’t fair to ask him to just be okay with physically struggling.

“John,” Analiese said with a smile. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me. Leaving me with the lovebirds wasn’t nice.”

Grandpa grinned and wheezed a little as he chuckled. “I decided it was high time I got some pie, or you would all eat it without me.”

“But—” Skyla started to interrupt to say he’d already had pie, but Dalton’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Let him have pie,” Dalton whispered. “It’s one day. What’s it really going to matter?”

Skyla pinched her lips together. She understood Dalton’s mentality, but she wanted to argue. Wanted to say that maybe if Grandpa ate something healthier he’d live longer. That maybe changing his diet would give her a couple more years with him, instead of the direction he was headed right now.

She may be inexperienced in dating relationships, but she wasn’t naive. Anyone could tell that Grandpa was going down a path that Skyla wouldn’t be able to follow. He was in his mid-eighties, he’d already had a stroke, with a high chance of more, and he wasn’t regaining his strength the way he should.

In essence, his body was slowly shutting down.

Would a day of pie make it worse? Maybe not. But a day of healthy food definitely wouldn’t make it worse.

Grandpa’s hand hit the table, though weakly. “They don't call it Pie Day for nothing,” he said. “Besides. The only thing left is pumpkin. It’s a squash, which is a vegetable. There’s dairy in the crust for my bones and exotic herbs like cinnamon in the filling for my digestion. It’s a meal in a slice.”

Skyla’s shoulders slumped. How could she deny him this? After all he’d done for her, all he continued to do for her, she wouldn’t stand in the way of him and his pie.

Stepping forward, Skyla kissed his whiskery cheek. “I’ll bring it to the table.”

As she walked away, Skyla smiled when she heard Dalton settle back in his chair. “So, John…are you a football man?”

Skyla laughed quietly to herself. If Dalton enjoyed football, he was about to be severely disappointed. According to Grandpa, men who chose to use their noggins for headbutting others in order to pick up a pigskin, rather than progressing in intellect and wisdom, were the worst of the worst.

She couldn’t help but laugh some more as she came from the kitchen into a full blown argument.

“Brain damage,” Grandpa muttered. “Nothing but brain damage.”

“Honestly, for some of those guys,” Analiese added, “that might be the best they can do with those brains.”

Grandpa huffed and shook his head. “Every man has the capacity to learn. Just because they don’t all reach genius level doesn’t mean it isn’t worth the effort.” He gave Skyla a fleeting look when she put the pie and whipped cream on the table, before turning back to Dalton. “So, son…how soon can that boat go out again?”

Skyla’s wide gaze jumped to Dalton, and he didn’t react. Instead, he gaveJohn a wide smile. “Mr. Bowen, I’m ready any time you are.”

“Grandpa,” Skyla began.

Dalton reached over and took her hand, then guided Skyla to her seat.

“Thank you,” she murmured, but her attention went right back. “Grandpa, I’m not sure you can handle being on the boat.”

John waved his granddaughter off. “I won’t be alone. You and Anna, here, can come help.”

“But—”

“Would you be willing to use a walking aid?” Dalton interrupted. He hadn’t brought it up with Skyla before, but it was clear from Mr. Bowen’s movements that his strength wasn’t coming back any time soon.

For some reason, he seemed dead set on this fishing trip, though Dalton suspected it had more to do with riling up Skyla, than an actual desire to fish. Really though, Dalton couldn’t quite figure it out. The man had never been fishing…why was this such a big deal to him? Was he just trying to make sure Skyla was taken care of before he passed?

Dalton wasn’t sure why a fishing trip would be a way to do that. The dinners, the time together, that seemed a more likely way to push Skyla and Dalton together.

Dalton liked her more than he’d ever liked any other woman, and truthfully, Dalton was on the brink of falling in love and this could very well end in marriage.

He wasn’t even opposed to the idea.

What he was opposed to, was the idea that John felt he had to interfere. As if Skyla didn’t have a choice. Something about that made the idea of marriage feel so…heavy. Rather than two people falling in love and wanting to create a life together, it seemed like John was trying to provoke Dalton’s sense of duty and protectiveness.

He didn’t want to just take care of Skyla, though that wasn’t bad, he wanted to be partners with her. Why was John pushing so hard for something that was already happening?

“What did you have in mind?” John asked, forcing Dalton out of his churning thoughts. Which was probably a good thing, since Dalton’s imagination was getting away from him.

The bottom line was, he didn’t really understand the fishing trip idea. But he’d go along with it for Skyla’s sake.

Dalton leaned his elbows onto the table, clasping his hands. “I’m thinking we should compromise.” He tilted his head toward his girlfriend. “Skyla is worried about you. To be blunt, you’re having a hard time walking, and the rocking of a boat is only going to make that worse. But,” he continued before John could argue, “I don’t think you’re unable to go. You should be able to walk across the gangplank, and as long as the waters are calm, you’ll be fine staying by one of the poles.”

John raised his eyebrows, letting Dalton know he was listening.

“What if we have a wheelchair available for you? One that was on standby, but readily available if the waves are high or you have an episode where you’re struggling a bit more than normal. You’ll still be able to navigate the boat, and we can help you fish to your heart’s content.”

Dalton held his breath. He’d been pretty bold in that statement. He hadn’t talked it over with Skyla, and he was essentially telling John that he was a weak, old man.

If this went badly, it would be disastrous. But he was hoping that Mr. Bowen was rational enough to see that a little help would ease everyone’s adventure, not just his own.

John rubbed his chin. “You think I’ll fall over?”

“Lots of people fall over on boats,” Dalton answered with a shrug. “But yes, I think you’re more likely than some.”

John narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying to sugarcoat your words..”

Dalton frowned. “I don’t know any other way. I’m not here to get into an argument, but I’m trying to say what I see.”

“Then why not just say I’m falling apart?”

“Grandpa,” Skyla sighed.

“Because I don’t think you’re falling apart.” Dalton sat a little straighter. “I think you’ve recently gone through something difficult, and your body isn’t back where it used to be.” Dalton straightened his back. “Until that time, I don't want to see you or Skyla hurt by your actions.”

That got John’s attention, and the look he gave his granddaughter seemed just the slightest bit guilty. “I walk on by myself.”

Dalton nodded.

“Will there be others on the boat?”

Dalton took a deep breath. “It’ll be easier to fish if we have my crew, but we can narrow it to just family otherwise.”

One side of Mr. Bowen’s mouth twitched. “You seemed to manage just fine the other night.”

Dalton smirked back. “I had better incentive then.” If he looked sideways, the tips of Skyla’s ears would probably be bright red. Analiese was already snickering, her mouth full of pie, and Mr. Bowen appeared to be at least holding back his chuckle, though he wasn’t very successful at it.

“You have a deal.” The older man reached across the table and shook Dalton’s hand. Once done, he elbowed Analiese. “Where’s mine? You’re gonna eat the whole thing.”

“It’s not my fault you’re slow,” Analiese argued back, but both of them were smiling.

Dalton folded his arms over his chest and watched the unlikely pair bicker and argue with each other. Every once in a while, John would throw out something from Shakespeare, but Analiese never lost pace.

Who’d have ever thought that a crotchety old literature teacher and a young spurned bride would make such good friends?

Skyla’s arm slipped through Dalton’s, and he loosened his arm so she could lean in better. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Dalton turned his head and kissed her temple. “Anytime,” he whispered back.

Skyla sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.

For just a moment, Dalton had the desire to beat his chest and shout about her trust in him, but he squashed the sensation. Skyla was trusting him with something important to her, and he didn’t want to get caught up in his own importance or he’d let her down.

Watching Analiese’s life play out had already taught Dalton some heavy lessons when it came to relationships and how communication and pride could throttle it before it ever had a chance to thrive.

Luckily, his sister hadn’t married her ex. The man wouldn’t have been a good fit for her. But hopefully, she could soften just a little more. She was young and beautiful with plenty of time to find someone to treat her the way she deserved.

Dalton’s makeshift family joked and interacted over Skyla’s meal, and suddenly it became clear that the trust Skyla was showing him was exactly what Analiese was giving John.

And what John was giving to Dalton.

It wasn’t about manipulating a relationship between Skyla and Dalton. It was about trusting that Dalton would treat Skyla how she deserved. Analiese trusting John was a step in her eventually learning to trust others as well.

It was all coming full circle.

This just might turn out better than Dalton could have ever dreamed of.