While You Were Writing by Nelson Virginia

Author:Nelson, Virginia [Nelson, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: small town, snark, recluse, Virginia Nelson, contemporary romance, Romance, Watkin’s Pond, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781619222335
Goodreads: 22343960
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: 2014-08-05T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

She hadn’t planned on being gone so long from the ramshackle farmhouse Radcliffe called home. She felt a little like Beauty as she pulled the rental car into his driveway, racing home to her beast before the rose dropped its last petal.

She’d read too many of his books if she waxed poetic about leaving for a day. Crashing out on Lance’s couch hadn’t been comfortable, nor had she slept worth a damn, but she’d found out more in one day and morning than she’d learned in days holed up in the middle of nowhere with Radcliffe.

His neighbors and the few people in town they’d interacted with remembered Radcliffe’s mother, Estella, well—from the people who brought meals by the house in her last days to the ones who knew her from when she was a girl. While munching on Mrs. Watkin’s famous pineapple upside down cake at the local diner, she’d heard stories, laughter, remembrances…it seemed the town was more than willing to fill the blanks her mysterious writer hadn’t filled. Knowing more about his mother, about his past, might be the key to unlocking the wall that stood between them. Maybe by helping Radcliffe, she’d help herself. Some little light went on inside her once she’d started helping him, some brittle glow that might be herself coming back to life, learning to forgive herself for not being what she wanted to be.

As if to reaffirm her thoughts on life, she’d wandered through the small town while her brother was at work, enjoying the quaint, bucolic beauty of it all, and found herself standing in a cemetery. Sure, it wasn’t the cemetery, since Preston had been buried back home in Spring City, Tennessee, but it looked enough like it that it shoved her stumbling down memory lane. Then again, maybe it wasn’t so much the look of the graves, surrounded by grass and some so old the names had been washed away by weather and time, as the fact she’d been thinking of him that knocked her into the past.

Passing through the waist-high, black iron gates, she wandered among the graves. Maybe she hadn’t been the best fiancée of all time, but she wasn’t horrible. And, although his sickness shaped who she was, they’d had some really good times before he died. A few, even, while he’d been sick.

A girl, probably about her age, sat cross-legged on one of the newer plots. Twirling a leaf in her fingertips, she seemed in deep conversation…with a headstone.

“Oh hi!” she called out, waving Sheri closer. “You must be Lance’s older sister.”

“Uh, yeah, I am.” It almost creeped Sheri out how everyone in this town seemed to know who she was and why she was here before she’d even been introduced to them.

“I’m Abigail. Lance dated my sister for a while…well, hell, everyone dated my sister at some point or another, but still. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re talking to a grave.” It seemed that spending time with Radcliffe might be making his bad habits rub off on her instead of her good ones on him, but…

“Yes, this is my grandmother.

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