know about.
“Haley?” Gran abandoned one of the patriotic colored rockers in front of the Inn and approached Haley slowly. The older, but very similar version of her mother smiled, wearing an obviously homemade knitted sweater that was the worst shade of pale pink and at least three sizes too large for her thin frame. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, which only meant she was trying to “fit in with the young crowd.” “Is that you, darling?”
“Hi, Gran.” Haley wrapped up Gran in a huge hug, inhaling that old woman smell, something aesthetic and yet sweet about it. “It’s me.”
“You’ve lost weight,” Gran said, holding Haley at arm’s length, chewing at her pink glossed bottom lip and glancing her granddaughter up and down. Gran tugged Haley’s hair. “It’s so short and choppy. When did you cut off your beautiful locks?”
Haley tucked a blonde strand behind her ear, heat blossoming on her cheeks. “Not that long ago.”
In a fit of rage, she’d grabbed the kitchen scissors and cut her hair to prevent Dad from being able to grab it and pull her around the house. He’d yanked a handful of hair once while screaming Mom’s name, a painful reminder of how much they looked alike.
“I bet all the boys love it.” Gran smiled and led the way to the side of the Inn to enter Champney’s. “It’s very cute.”
The first day at work after Haley hacked off all her hair, Chris stopped in, then stopped dead in his tracks and stared, mouth hanging slightly open. Matt, one of Haley’s coworkers, walked up to Chris, laughed, then pushed his jaw closed and walked away, shaking his head. She’d felt gorgeous then, for one of the first times ever, but now, facing Gran, she felt like a fraud. “They love it.”
“Is this jagged, angled look a new trend?”
“Not yet. But if it becomes one, maybe girls at school will stop staring at me.”
A hostess took Gran and Haley to a table outside on the redbrick patio and let them know their server would be around shortly.
“Thank you, dear.” Gran swept her salt and pepper hair back into a low ponytail and let it cascade down her delicate shoulder, exposed thanks to the gaping hole otherwise known as a collar in her sweater. She looked over the menu, then over her dark framed glasses. “You ready to talk now?”
Haley studied the menu, though she knew it well enough not to have to. “Jocelyn and Dad are doing well. Instead of visiting Mom, they’re going to the Charmings’ annual Berkshires party tonight.”
Their server arrived, a young girl not much older than Haley, dark brown hair, a nice smile, black shirt, pants, shoes, everything. “Welcome to Champney’s. My name’s Lisa. What can I get you two ladies to drink today?”
Gran placed her menu on the faux wood table. “I’ll have an unsweetened tea, please, and that delicious Deerfield Farm Burger. Haley?”
“Roasted Pear Arugula salad, please, and same on the drink.”
Laughing, Gran snatched Haley’s menu and said, “She’ll have what I’m having, and she’ll like it. She could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“ Gran !”
She waved off the server, the girl stuck in a motion half wanting to stay and half wanting to run off to enter their order—or talk about them to her friends. Ahh, Gran.
“Eat it for me? I’m just a dying old woman.”
Haley laughed. “Dying? You’re, like, in your seventies, in perfect shape, not to mention smarter and more stubborn than you should be.”
“But I live in an old folks’ home.”
“Because you said you were lonely and didn’t want the farm now that Gramps was gone.” Fortunately, Gran already signed the deed for the two hundred acre, sprawling cattle farm over to Haley. But, until Haley was old enough, Gran let renters take over the day-to-day of the house and hired plenty of helping hands to tend the animals. Gran and Haley were just figureheads at the moment.
“So, are you upset about your Dad and Joce going to the
“Haley?” Gran abandoned one of the patriotic colored rockers in front of the Inn and approached Haley slowly. The older, but very similar version of her mother smiled, wearing an obviously homemade knitted sweater that was the worst shade of pale pink and at least three sizes too large for her thin frame. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, which only meant she was trying to “fit in with the young crowd.” “Is that you, darling?”
“Hi, Gran.” Haley wrapped up Gran in a huge hug, inhaling that old woman smell, something aesthetic and yet sweet about it. “It’s me.”
“You’ve lost weight,” Gran said, holding Haley at arm’s length, chewing at her pink glossed bottom lip and glancing her granddaughter up and down. Gran tugged Haley’s hair. “It’s so short and choppy. When did you cut off your beautiful locks?”
Haley tucked a blonde strand behind her ear, heat blossoming on her cheeks. “Not that long ago.”
In a fit of rage, she’d grabbed the kitchen scissors and cut her hair to prevent Dad from being able to grab it and pull her around the house. He’d yanked a handful of hair once while screaming Mom’s name, a painful reminder of how much they looked alike.
“I bet all the boys love it.” Gran smiled and led the way to the side of the Inn to enter Champney’s. “It’s very cute.”
The first day at work after Haley hacked off all her hair, Chris stopped in, then stopped dead in his tracks and stared, mouth hanging slightly open. Matt, one of Haley’s coworkers, walked up to Chris, laughed, then pushed his jaw closed and walked away, shaking his head. She’d felt gorgeous then, for one of the first times ever, but now, facing Gran, she felt like a fraud. “They love it.”
“Is this jagged, angled look a new trend?”
“Not yet. But if it becomes one, maybe girls at school will stop staring at me.”
A hostess took Gran and Haley to a table outside on the redbrick patio and let them know their server would be around shortly.
“Thank you, dear.” Gran swept her salt and pepper hair back into a low ponytail and let it cascade down her delicate shoulder, exposed thanks to the gaping hole otherwise known as a collar in her sweater. She looked over the menu, then over her dark framed glasses. “You ready to talk now?”
Haley studied the menu, though she knew it well enough not to have to. “Jocelyn and Dad are doing well. Instead of visiting Mom, they’re going to the Charmings’ annual Berkshires party tonight.”
Their server arrived, a young girl not much older than Haley, dark brown hair, a nice smile, black shirt, pants, shoes, everything. “Welcome to Champney’s. My name’s Lisa. What can I get you two ladies to drink today?”
Gran placed her menu on the faux wood table. “I’ll have an unsweetened tea, please, and that delicious Deerfield Farm Burger. Haley?”
“Roasted Pear Arugula salad, please, and same on the drink.”
Laughing, Gran snatched Haley’s menu and said, “She’ll have what I’m having, and she’ll like it. She could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“ Gran !”
She waved off the server, the girl stuck in a motion half wanting to stay and half wanting to run off to enter their order—or talk about them to her friends. Ahh, Gran.
“Eat it for me? I’m just a dying old woman.”
Haley laughed. “Dying? You’re, like, in your seventies, in perfect shape, not to mention smarter and more stubborn than you should be.”
“But I live in an old folks’ home.”
“Because you said you were lonely and didn’t want the farm now that Gramps was gone.” Fortunately, Gran already signed the deed for the two hundred acre, sprawling cattle farm over to Haley. But, until Haley was old enough, Gran let renters take over the day-to-day of the house and hired plenty of helping hands to tend the animals. Gran and Haley were just figureheads at the moment.
“So, are you upset about your Dad and Joce going to the
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