She patted my hair. “I haven’t seen you in a while. That job working you too hard?”

“Most days. I love it though. I don’t mind the work.”

“You feel like you’re settling in?”

“It’s only been a few weeks, but I’m getting the hang of it. What are you doing out here? It’s so hot.”

“Just watering the flowers. You hungry? It’s too hot to cook, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“Actually, I have dinner plans.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Man dinner plans?”

The word man coincided with a twitch of her hips that made me laugh out loud. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m just asking a question.”

“Yes. Man dinner plans. His name is Jamie.”

She lowered herself onto the small wicker couch pushed up under the front window and motioned for me to join her. It was out of the sun at least. “Is he a Mormon like you?”

I nodded. “He is.”

“That’s good. Is he nice?”

“He’s very nice. He’s a soccer player, Granny. Also like me.”

“Does he make a good living?”

It made me laugh that dinner plans were enough to elicit so many questions. “He works in technology and makes a very nice living.”

She nodded her approval. “Well, if dinner goes well, you bring him around for supper. I’ll make a meat loaf and some potatoes.”

“I think he’d like that.” I stood. “Hey, I have to work Saturday night—the inn is hosting a Fourth of July thing—but I’ll have some free time in the morning. Want me to help in the garden?”

“The first crop of beans will be in by then. You up to pickin’?”

I’d always loved working in Granny Grace’s garden. The idea that with a little bit of water and sun we could grow actual things and then eat them had amazed my child mind. As I got older, I realized more of the struggle it was to keep things thriving. Gardening wasn’t just water and sun. It was work. Not enough rain, too much rain, pests, disease, critters that snuck in and damaged the vegetables. Granny Grace once told me, “The battle never ends, Lane. There is bounty waiting if you’re willing to work, but nothing comes from nothing.” I’d remembered that mantra many times since then. Nothing comes from nothing. “I’m up for it,” I told her.

She nodded. “I’ll start early, before the sun gets too high.”

“How early is early?”

She gave me a sideways glance. “Just come on out when you wake up. Squash beetles are easiest to find mid- to late morning, so whatever time it is, there should be something to keep you busy.”