“About time,” she says. “My bank account is looking sad.”
If that’s not a sign this sale needs to happen, I don’t know what is. I pull out my phone and guide her through the signing of the document. Her hand pauses on the blank spot for her digital signature, and I watch her.
She’s frowning, and there’s some sadness in her eyes.
“I wish you didn’t have to sell it either,” I say softly.
She makes an entirely illegible signature with her finger. “No use crying over it. That house served us well, and now it can serve someone else well.”
A lot of someone elses. Different ones every week, in fact. But it is what it is.
I hesitate too with my finger over the submit button, but only for a couple seconds. I press it, then email Eugene to let him know it’s done.
“I brought you something to celebrate,” I say. Beau’s idea of ice cream wasn’t so bad, and I pull a carton of rocky road out of my bag.
Grams’s mouth pulls into a big grin. She puts out her hands and wiggles her fingers. “Gimme the goods.”
I hand the carton to her, and she rips off the plastic and pries open the lid right away. She pulls open a drawer and takes out two spoons, handing one to me.
I don’t even like rocky road, but I obediently scoop some onto my spoon. I’ll hold my nose today for Grams.
She’s full today of the gossip that resulted from book club on Saturday where they discussed Sunny Palmer’s book.
When she ends, I take it as my cue.Be brave, Gemma. “Speaking of Palmers…”
Grams grunts like she has no desire to pursue that topic.
“Remember our conversation a few weeks ago?” I say, focusing all my energy on scooping the perfect spoonful of ice cream. If I just act natural, maybe she’ll take it in stride.
Ha! Good one, Gemma.
“You told me to watch out for the Palmers,” I continue.
“Of course I remember,” she says. “I’ve been telling you that your whole life.”
“And then when I told you about the project I agreed to help Beau with—in order to make sure you could stay here, you know—you warned me again.”
Her eyes flit up from the ice cream, fixing on mine. “What about it?”
Ugh. This is the worst.
I can’t even say it. It feels like slapping her in the face. I swallow,feeling hot under her unblinking stare. I rub my lips together, wishing I’d taken Beau up on his offer to rehearse this conversation just a little.
But the expression in Grams’s eyes begins to change. I think she’s getting the picture from my strange silence.
She breaks her gaze away from mine and sets down her spoon. “I’ve got to go meet Deedee.” She gets up, a hardness to her jaw that confirms she got the message.
“But Grams?—”
“She hates to wait.”
I swallow hard because she’s reaching right now. She’s escaping because she can’t stand being with me. She doesn’t want to hear me say the words.
She shuffles toward the door and opens it, then stops for a few seconds in the doorway. Her head turns enough that I can see her profile, including the streak of pink that has an inch of gray regrowth at her roots. “I hope you don’t get dropped as quickly as I did when something better comes along.”
Before I can say another word, she shuts the door behind her.
Gemma
