The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

down the days until I see your face again.
    Love u Bunches,
    Ashton
    I stared at the computer screen after I clicked send. The fact I hadn’t mentioned Beau bothered me a little. I started to tell him about giving Beau and Nicole a drive home. We never really talked about Beau anymore. Sawyer does sometimes when he’s worried about him. Most of Sawyer’s life he’s taken care of Beau.
    Beau was the son of the Vincent brother who had lived a wild life up until the day he crashed his motorcycle into an eighteen-wheeler. Beau had been in first grade when it happened. I remember his eyes being bloodshot from crying for months. He would sneak out of his trailer and come to my house in the middle of the night. I’d slip outside my window and we would sit on my roof for hours thinking of things we could do to make him feel better. Normally those ideas would lead to serious mischief that Sawyer had to bail us out of.
    Sawyer was the son of the good Vincent brother, the oldest of the two. He had gone to law school and made a fortune defending the average Joe against insurance companies. The town loved Harris Vincent and his beautiful church-going, junior-league-member, tennis-playing wife, Samantha Vincent, and of course their talented all-American oldest son.
    This town wasn’t big and, like any small southern town, we all knew everyone’s business. Their past was common knowledge. Their parents’ past was no secret. You didn’t have secrets in Grove, Alabama. It wasn’t possible—well, except maybe at the field. In the dark shadows of the pecan grove that surrounded the large open field where the Mason boys held their famous parties I’m sure were many secrets. It was the only place the little ol’ ladies couldn’t watch you from their front porch swing and the only eyes around were too busy with their own mischief to notice yours.
    Reaching over, I picked up the picture Sawyer had framed and given to me of us at a field party last month. His kind smile and bright green eyes made me feel guilty. I hadn’t done anything wrong really. I’d just left out the fact I had helped Beau get home safe last night. I should have told him. Setting the picture back down on the desk, I stood up and walked over to the closet to find something to wear. I needed to get out of the house. This summer was going to go by at a snail’s pace if I didn’t find something to do. My Grana was back home from visiting her sister up in Savannah. I could go volunteer at the nursing home, then go visit Grana. That way, when I emailed Sawyer tomorrow, I could tell him I’d gone to the nursing home to see his grandmother. He’d like that.
    Once I’d done my good deed for the day and visited with Grandma Vincent, I headed to Grana’s house. I was anxious to see her. I always missed her like crazy when she was away. With Sawyer and Grana gone, I really had felt all alone. At least she was back now.
    The minute my car door closed, Grana’s front door opened and out she stepped, grinning and holding a tall glass of sweet iced tea. Her white-blonde hair barely brushed her shoulders, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. We’d had a discussion about the fact she needed to cut her hair before she left. It was getting too long for someone her age. I’d told her so, and she’d waved me off as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. Guess she changed her mind. The twinkle in her green eyes told me she knew what I was thinking.
    “Well, lookie who decided to stop by and visit her Grana. I was beginning to wonder if you were requiring a written invitation these days,” she teased. I laughed and walked up the steps to hug her.
    “You just got home yesterday,” I reminded her. She took a sniff of my shirt and leaned back to look at me.
    “Smells like somebody stopped by the old folk’s home to visit her boyfriend’s grandmama before she came to see hers.”
    “Oh stop it. I was giving you time to sleep in. I know traveling is hard on you.”
    She took my hand and led me over to sit down beside her on the front porch swing. The diamonds on her fingers glistened against the sunlight. The cold glass she held was pressed into my hands.
    “Here, drink this. I poured it as soon as I saw that little car pull in the drive.”
    I could relax here. This was Grana. She didn’t expect me to be perfect. She just wanted me to be happy. “So, you talked to that boyfriend of yours since he’s been gone or are you having you some fun times with