Here in My Heart: A Novella (Echoes of the Heart) by Anna DeStefano Read Free Book Online Page B

for me is a mistake.”
    Not to mention the fractured fairy tale that he and Dru could live and work peacefully together.
    Brad laughed, wry, humorless. “Vivian—feeling obligated to do anything she doesn’t already want to do?”
    “I don’t care what she thinks she wants.” Dru gestured at Horace. “I don’t care what this guy’s let her talk herself into, while they’re spending practically every evening having dinner together here. Your grandmother seems to think,” she said to Brad, “that I don’t know about their dates the nights I’m working. The Dream Whip is a gossip wormhole, between dinner rush and closing prep. I hear everything about everyone in this town, at least the things people think I’m dying to know. I don’t care—”
    “You should care, my dear.” When Horace was irritated, his drawl grew even more distinguished and Baptist-tea sweet. “She—”
    “No,” Dru said to Brad. “ You should care. You should be spitting mad about this. And you should know better than to think it’s going to work.”
    She looked around her at the mismatched, dated décor and furnishings that spoke of history and roots and generations of belonging, of permanence, no matter how strained Vivian’s relationship had sometimes been with her grandson.
    “This is yours.” Why couldn’t he be a selfish ass again, now that she needed him to be? “It’s all you’ll have left of your mom and grandfather and Vivian. You should want this. You should fight me and Horace and even your grandmother to keep this in your family. Don’t let some leftover idea of making up for our past be an excuse for not giving a damn about things in Chandlerville.”
    “But he already gives a damn about things here.” Horace studied Brad’s silence. “He has for quite some time, haven’t you, son? It’s just that Vivian’s finally of a mind to get you two to deal with your problems out in the open. ‘Enough,’ and I’m quoting here, ‘with that boy wasting time being a silent champion. He’s either ready to own up to whatever he feels for Dru Hampton and me and this house and the Dream Whip, or I’m selling the lot of it and setting them both free.’”
    “Champion?” Dru swallowed the dread climbing up her throat. She stared at Brad in disbelief. Whatever he feels for Dru Hampton . . .  “You’ve hardly been home in seven years. You stay with Travis when you’re here. Even over Christmas, you act like a visitor in this house. You never stay for more than a single night, while I go out of my way to give you and Vivian space. You’ve hardly stepped foot in the Dream Whip since you left for Savannah. You and your grandmother speak like once a month over the phone. Where on earth would she get the idea that you care—”
    “He’s the one who asked Vi to put you up here.” Horace leafed through another set of notes. “It was his idea at first for his grandmother to give you a room and a full-time job when you turned eighteen, so you would stay in town.”
    Dru dropped into her chair. Brad stared at the pattern on the rug between them, as if it held the answers to the world’s mysteries.
    “You . . .” She didn’t know how to say it, any more than he seemed to. “You asked Vivian to help me?”
    And if she didn’t miss her guess, that wasn’t all.
    Those invisible handcuffs closed a little tighter, as she recalled Brad’s skill as a radKIDS instructor.
    He’d said he’d been involved with the program in Savannah almost as long as she had here. Which suddenly made it seem much less random—Vivian’s agreement to be the first business owner in Chandlerville to fund Dru’s training, and to cover the expense of starting and running the nonprofit program.
    All these years, Dru had seen herself and Vivian as a team. Vi had paid her to work her butt off at the Whip. She’d backed Dru putting so much time into their community, helping the local kids. They’d done a lot of good together. Dru had