His Hometown Girl. Jillian Hart

sensible shoes.

      “Sit down.” With a clink Gramma set the glasses on the round oak table and looked through her glasses perched on her nose. “Tell me all about it.”

      “About what?”

      “What’s taken away my favorite granddaughter’s smile.”

      “I don’t want to talk about Jay.” Karen pulled out a chair and settled onto the cushioned seat. “Or how I’m looking thirty in the face and don’t have any better prospects.”

      “Fine. Then we won’t talk about Jay.” Gramma took a sip of soda, understanding alight in her eyes. “Most of my friends have great-grandchildren by now. Nora was one of the last holdouts. Then her granddaughter married Matthew and got those triplet boys. I don’t suppose I’m going to be that lucky.”

      “Don’t count on it. I see where you’re going with this. You’re trying to get me to talk about my breakup with Jay.”

      “Not at all. I’m just sharing some of my troubles with you for a change. At my last Ladies’ Aid meeting, Lois had new pictures of her adorable great-granddaughter.”

      “You’re feeling left out. Is that it?”

      “Yes, but you don’t look very sorry for me.”

      “Sure I am. I’m hiding it deep inside.”

      Gramma’s eyes twinkled, full of trouble. “If you went ahead and married Jay, then in a year or so I’d have my own great-grandbaby to show off. I’ve got to keep up with my friends.”

      “I see. It’s a status thing. Like having a new car or the right house?”

      “Exactly.”

      Karen ran a finger through the condensation on the outside of her glass. “Jay has one semester left at seminary, and then he wants me to sell the coffee shop.”

      “Why is that?”

      “He needs me to help him with his career. A pastor’s wife belongs at her husband’s side, he told me. Then he asked how much equity I had in the building.”

      “I see.” Gramma nodded sagely. “You and Allison opened that shop together. It would be hard to sell just for the money.”

      “I got angry and so did he. He said some harsh things—” She took a deep breath. “He told me the real reason he wanted to marry me. Because I was someone he could count on. I work hard, I know how to run a business and I’m comfortable, like an old friend. He needs someone dependable to help him with his career.”

      “I see.” Gramma lowered her glass to the polished table. Ice cubes clinked in the silence between them. “Those words must have been hard to hear from the man you loved.”

      “I was in love with him.”

      “Not anymore?”

      “How can it be love, if he doesn’t love me back?” Anguish filled her. “Everyone tells me I’m wrong. I should be lucky to have a man like Jay who wants to marry me. He’s going to go far, and he’ll be a good husband.”

      “They don’t know the real story, do they? You haven’t told this to anyone but me.”

      “Not even Mom.” Karen let out a shaky sigh. She’d never felt so confused in her life. “I don’t know what to do. Am I wrong? I love Jay—at least a part of me did—and is that enough? Do I settle for friendship? Or am I throwing away something good? It feels as if I’ve done the right thing and the wrong thing all at the same time. You were married to Granddad for thirty years, so tell me what you think.”

      “I know one thing.” Gramma reached across the table and her warm, caring hand covered Karen’s. “Love without passion is like lukewarm water. It’s not good for much.”

      “Then you think I did the right thing?”

      “I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Forever is a long time with a man who doesn’t love you the way you want to be loved.”

      Some of the weight lifted from her chest, and Karen managed to take a sip of soda. “I thought you wanted great-grandchildren.”

      “I want my granddaughter to be happy. That’s more important to me than anything in this world, even keeping up with Lois.” Gramma’s fingers squeezed gently, a reminder of the love Karen had known her entire life. “It’s tough when the man you’re interested in thinks you’re a cup of lukewarm tea. I have the same problem with Clyde.”

      “Clyde Winkler, the man you’ve been seeing?”

      “You look surprised.” Gramma took a long sip of her cola. “What? You don’t think a woman my age can have a love life, is that it?”

      “I’m speechless.”

      “And do you know what I’ve figured out? Men are all the same. They haven’t changed a bit since 1940. Still as thickheaded as ever.”

      “Surely not every man in existence.”

      “The one I’m interested in, at least.” Gramma stared out the window, where the drone of Jay’s mower grew louder, then began fading away. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never told a living soul. Once, I was in the same situation you’re in.”

      “You called off a wedding?” Karen leaned closer. “With Granddad?”

      “I almost did. I was younger than you are now, but back then, girls married much younger. All my friends from school had husbands, and I desperately wanted to get married. More than anything. Oh, what plans I had! I wanted a house of my own, children to raise and a man to take care of.”

      “Which you did. Granddad was wonderful.”

      “But he wasn’t the love of my life.” The confession was a quiet one, hardly loud enough to be heard above the hum of the air-conditioning.

      Karen dropped her glass. Ice cubes and soda sloshed over the rim and onto the table.

      Gramma calmly reached for the napkin holder and began mopping up the mess. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

      “But you loved Granddad. I know you did. I saw you together.”

      “I did love him in a hundred different ways. As my husband, as the father of my children, as my best friend. But not in the most wondrous way. He never said, but I know that he felt it, too. He tried and I tried. While we made a life together, we lacked something important.” Gramma rose and dropped the wet napkins in the garbage container. “We didn’t have a deep emotional connection. That was something we couldn’t make together, no matter how hard we tried.”

      I don’t believe it, Karen thought. Denial speared through her. Her grandparents had always been happy together.

      No, seemed happy together, she corrected herself. And as she watched her gramma’s shoulders slump and felt the truth in the air, Karen realized the pain her grandmother must have silently lived with every day of her marriage.

      When Gramma straightened, what looked like sadness and regret marked her face. “Your granddad told me once that he was glad to be with such a reliable woman. That out of all the women he could have married, he’d been lucky to wind up with me.

      “Reliable.” Her voice shook a little. “I loved Norman deeply, but not deeply enough. Just as he could never love me. Even now I wonder what it would have been like for us if we’d managed to figure out what we were missing. We were never really happy. We were never truly unhappy. Lukewarm.”

      Karen stood and paced to the window. She could see Jay in his mother’s backyard, pushing the mower. Tall and dependable, he was a handsome man with golden hair and sun-bronzed skin. The faint growl of the engine rumbled through the glass, and looking at the man whose ring she’d worn made sadness weigh on her heart. “Granddad wasn’t your true love.”

      “I made a life with him and it worked