“You really shouldn’t walk at night without shoes on.”

Tess jumped at the woman’s voice, both feet literally coming off the ground. People didn’t sneak up on her. How the hell had this woman snuck up on her? She was losing her skills. A harrowing thought flashed through her mind. Did that mean it was time to give up eliminating?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the woman said, as Tess turned to find an older lady wearing a plaid robe and yellow slippers.

“Blanche?” she asked, recognizing the woman’s voice and assuming no other seventy-something neighbor would be awake at this hour of night.

“In the flesh. You must be Tess. Nice to meet you in person.” She twisted and started toward a house barely visible through the trees in the distance. “Follow me,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” Tess asked, glancing at her feet before she scurried to catch up to Blanche.

“You can’t get far without shoes and it just so happens we’re the same size.” She picked up her pace, walking with the gait of a woman half her age.

Curiosity spurred Tess to keep up. “What makes you think I’m going somewhere? Maybe I just needed some fresh air? Ow!” she cried, something sharp digging into the flesh of her heel.

“At one in the morning when you should be fast asleep?”

Tess didn’t offer a reply.

They reached Blanche’s house, a cozy log cabin with a wraparound porch. Stairs led up to the glass front door, a motion detector lighting their way the moment they hit the first step. Large pots sat everywhere, overflowing with ivy and yellow daisies, and comfort filled Tess. But when she noticed the rocking chair sitting beside a large front window, she almost gasped. It looked exactly like the one her mother had rocked her in when she was a child. It was the only way she’d fall asleep.

“Your home is lovely,” she said, closing the front door behind her. Blanche had yet to stop her forward momentum.

“Thank you. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” She waved a hand in the air and disappeared around a corner.

Tess sat down on one of two sofas, the soft chenille fabric giving way to perfect coziness. She sank into the couch and put her feet up on the leather ottoman placed between the couches. Her eyes drifted shut, and for a few minutes she let her mind go blank. Worried she might actually fall asleep, she forced her lids open and took in the room.

A beautiful, but empty china cabinet sat off to the right. A bookcase, almost bare, decorated the left. One painting of snow-capped mountains hung on the wall. In the corner stood a small antique table with a vase of fresh flowers on top. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fresh flowers in her house.

Blanche entered the room carrying a pair of mugs. Not shoes. “I thought you might be thirsty,” she said, handing one of the steaming cups to Tess.

She sat up and accepted the drink. Then groaned with pleasure when she took a whiff. “Is this Irish coffee?”

Blanche took a seat across from her, a mischievous smile tugging at her wrinkled lips. “After midnight, it’s all I serve.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Tess inhaled deeply before taking a sip.

“I’ll keep you to that.” Blanche took her own sip before getting comfortable and tilting her head. “He’s a good man, you know. Sometimes he’s rough around the edges, but that’s only because he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

Tess shrugged. “Okay.”

“He do something to piss you off?” Blanche asked candidly.

“You could say that,” Tess answered. “He’s definitely not one for negotiation, no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

“You try asking him naked?”

Tess choked on her Irish coffee. “I beg your pardon?”

“Men can’t think straight when a woman’s naked. Something about their brain cells getting jumbled. And then their favorite word becomes ‘yes.’”

“I, uh…” Tess was at a complete loss for words. She looked into her mug, hoping the blush she felt wasn’t obvious on her face.

“You know how to play backgammon?” Blanche stood and reached for a small leather case on the bookshelf. She had it opened on the ottoman and pieces set up before Tess could answer.

“It’s been a while, but yeah.” Tess didn’t know what to make of Blanche. Or herself. She was happy with the subject change, but even if Blanche had continued to talk about Hugh, she didn’t feel any urge to leave. The older woman gave off a wonderful air of familiarity and warmth and Tess wanted to hang around her.

Blanche drank her Irish coffee while she set up the rest of the game pieces. Tess did the same, the easy rhythm they fell into one she rarely experienced.

Hugh. I fell into an easy rhythm with him.

“You got something on your mind, you should just spit it out,” Blanche said, putting her mug down on the ottoman.

Tess looked at her. Really looked at her. The idea that Blanche might be a Veiler popped into her mind. And with it her defenses went back up. “Right back atcha. I’m not really sure why you invited me here.”

“Make a guess,” Blanche said lightly. She leaned back, ran her hands down her thighs like there might be lint on her robe.

“Okay. I think you like knowing Hugh’s business because you love him like he’s your own son, and you’re trying to figure out what my motives are. You’re disheartened because I’ve apparently tried to sneak away and you wanted to meet me before you decided what to do about that. But it’s not my best interest you’re after—it’s Hugh’s. So I really think you should spit it out, not me.”

Blanche nodded. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She looked at Tess with genuine interest—and compassion—in her eyes, before gesturing around the room with her hand. Emotion Tess couldn’t put a finger on passed over the older woman’s features as she blinked several times. “He built this house for me. The old one burned to the ground last year. I thought I’d have to go to a senior shithouse, but Hugh wouldn’t hear of it. He took care of the insurance and got his friends to help out. Built this place in less than six months. And never asked me for a penny.”

Tess gulped. Her heart squeezed. “Wow.”

“He’s a private SOB, but if anyone he cares about gets into trouble, he’s first in line to help them out. He’s had more lost souls up to that house than I can count.”

For a brief moment, Tess forgot to breathe. “You think I’m a lost soul?” She shifted on the couch, uncomfortable with that assessment. Was she?

“No.” Blanche shook her head. “I think Hugh’s in over his head and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He smitten with you, that’s for sure. I’ve known that boy a long time, and I’ve never seen him so discombobulated over a woman.”

Something inside her softened, weakened. Awakened. She sighed. And she couldn’t meet Blanche’s eyes, instead picking a spot on the dark wood floor.

“So we’ve established you’re smitten too,” Blanche said, relief in her voice.

Tess lifted her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s been my experience that confronting it head on is always the best plan.”

“Oh, believe me, we’ve confronted it.” Tess looked down at the game board they’d yet to touch. “And unfortunately, whatever is going on between us is only short term. Sorry, Blanche.”

Blanche chuckled. “That’s what I thought when I met Artie.”

“Artie?”

“My husband and the love of my life. He passed away a few years ago. Told me on the day we met it would never last because he’d surely screw it up. We were married for fifty-three years and the only thing he screwed was me.” She crossed an arm over her chest so that her palm rested over her heart.

She and Blanche eyed each other for a moment and then both burst out laughing. Tess couldn’t remember ever laughing like this. It felt good. Felt nice to have a grandmother figure share something so unexpected and intimate.