The Liar

“Granny did my hair like a princess. I’m pretty and smart and kind.”

“I can see that. You’re the first princess I’ve had in my truck, so this is a pretty big deal for me. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Fifi. She likes french fries.”

“I would hope so.” He eased into the driveway. “Whew.” He took a mock swipe at his forehead. “Made it. You get the princess and her carriage. I’ll get the groceries.”

“Oh, that’s all right, I can—”

“Haul in three bags of groceries, a kid, a stroller and whatever’s in that suitcase you’ve got there? Sure you can, but I’ll get the groceries.”

“You carry me!” Callie shoved out of Shelby’s arms, threw herself at Griff.

“Callie, don’t—”

“I’ve got my orders.” He climbed out, crouched down, tapped his back. “Okay, princess, climb aboard.”

Callie said, “Whee,” and hooked herself on for a piggyback while Shelby scrambled out the other door to try to heft whatever was left.

He beat her to it, pulled out two grocery bags, and with one in each arm, her daughter bouncing gleefully on his back, headed to the front door.

“Is it locked?”

“I don’t think so. Mama may have . . .” She trailed off as he was already going inside, Callie clinging to his neck and chattering in his ear like he was her new best friend.

Flustered, Shelby pulled out the stroller, got the last bag, swung her Callie bag on her shoulder. She managed to get it all in the house, left the stroller by the door to deal with later.

He’d set the bags on the island. Before she could speak, he stopped her heart by swinging Callie off his back, dangling her upside down while she squealed in insane delight, then tossed her up in the air, catching her neatly. And settled her on his hip.

“I love you,” Callie said, and kissed him enthusiastically on the mouth.

“Is that all it takes?” Grinning, he gave her hair a tug. “Obviously I’ve been going about my conquests the wrong way for a lot of years.”

“You stay and play with me.”

“Would if I could, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

Callie took a hank of his hair, obviously finding it to her liking, and wound it around her finger. “You come back and play with me.”

“Sure, sometime.” He looked over at Shelby, smiled, and since she was staring, she saw he had eyes as green and clever as a cat’s. “You’ve got a keeper here.”

“She is. Thank you. Ah, do you have children?”

“Me? No.” He set Callie down, gave her a friendly pat on the butt. “Gotta go, Little Red.”

She wrapped her arms around his legs in a hug. “Bye, mister.”

“Griff. Just Griff.”

“Gwiff.”

“Grrr-iff,” Shelby corrected automatically.

“Grrr,” Callie said, and giggled.

“Grrr-iff’s gotta go,” he said, glanced back at Shelby. “You set?”

“Yes. Yes, thank you so much.”

“No problem.” He started out. “Love this kitchen,” he added, and strode to the door and out—he did have a swagger about him—before she could think of anything else.

“Grrr-iff,” Callie told Fifi. “He’s pretty, Mama, and he smells good. He’s going to come back and play with me.”

“I . . . umm. Huh.”

“I’m hungry, Mama.”

“What? Oh. Of course you are.” Giving herself a shake, Shelby got back to reality.

8

By the time her mother got home, Shelby had the chicken in the oven, the potatoes and carrots scrubbed, and the dining room table—used only for important meals—set with the good dishes.

Not the best dishes, which were her father’s grandmother’s and worth more in sentiment than money, but the company dishes with the roses around the rims.

She’d added linen napkins, folding them into fussy standing fans, rearranged candles and flowers into a pretty centerpiece, and was finishing the last of the pastries for the profiteroles.

“Oh my goodness, Shelby! The table looks just beautiful, like for a high-class dinner party.”

“We are high class.”

“We’re sure going to eat like we are—and it smells wonderful in here. You always were one to know just how things should go together to look pretty.”

“It’s fun, fussing a little. I hope it’s all right I asked Granny and Grandpa to come.”

“You know it is. Mama told me when I stopped into Vi’s after my garden club meeting—and after Suzannah and I did a little shopping. I got Callie the cutest outfits for spring. I had the best time.”

She set three shopping bags on the counter, began to pull things out. “I can’t wait to see her wearing this—it’s just precious, isn’t it? The little skirt with the pink and white stripes, and the frilly shirt. And these pink Mary Janes! Now, I checked her size before I left, so they should fit. But if they don’t, we’ll just take them back.”

“Mama, she’ll love those. She’ll just go crazy for those shoes.”

“And I got this cute shirt with ‘Princess’ on it, and the sweetest little white cardigan sweater with ribbon trim.” She pulled more out as she talked. “Where is she? Maybe she can try some on.”

“She’s napping. I’m sorry she’s napping so late, but it all took me longer, and then I had to fix her lunch, and she was revved up, so I didn’t get her down until almost three.”