“The hall closet, and I’d suggest that we go back through whatever you packed up out of the coat closet. I wouldn’t be surprised to find more money in pockets or old purses. There’s Jackson. We’ll talk later.” Nessa hurried down the steps and out to the pickup truck.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Flynn teased.

“That gives you a pretty wide range,” April added.

Heat filled Nessa’s cheeks. She hoped that Jackson thought it was just a flush from hurrying to be ready.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

It’s not a date, Nessa told herself as she fastened her seat belt. If it were a date, he would have opened the door for me, so it’s just two friends who are going to the cemetery to visit their loved ones’ graves.

Jackson waved to Flynn and April and then rolled the window up. “Flynn and April would have been welcome to come along with us.”

“I didn’t invite them,” Nessa said. “I want a little time with Nanny Lucy by myself.” And with you, she added silently.

“I take it that they never did think Miz Lucy was perfect?” he asked as he backed the truck around and headed down the gravel road.

“April didn’t, but she lived there. Flynn might have a little bit, but he’s fighting his own demons. Neither of them thought she was as perfect as I did, though,” Nessa answered.

“The question is, Are you going to get over Miz Lucy falling off her pedestal?” Jackson asked.

“I think so, but it’s not going to be an overnight thing. Have you ever heard that song by Miranda Lambert that talks about ‘the house that built me’?”

Jackson turned south off the gravel road. “Yes, ma’am. I like Miranda’s voice. It’s old country. I’m not much for the new alternative stuff.”

“April mentioned that song when we were talking. The house didn’t really build our parents, but what happened there did, and understanding that helps,” Nessa said. “I’m not making a bit of sense.”

“More than you know.” Jackson drove past Weezy’s and made a right turn toward the cemetery. When they arrived, he parked beside Lucy’s tombstone. “Did you come visit her the last five years? I keep thinking that we should have met before now.”

“I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t come often enough.” Nessa’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. Perhaps if she’d come to see her grandmother more, she would have understood more about her trouble and could have helped her. “Were you at her funeral?”