Chapter 11
~ Sammie ~
After breakfast, Braden’s grandfather is awake and wants to meet me. He’s still weak from his operation, so we’re not supposed to stay long. I promise my “father” I’ll be on my best behavior.
Braden guides me down the hallway toward the guest room where they’ve set up the hospital bed. We rehearse a few answers to likely questions. In order not to screw up, the story is that my mother never told me about Braden until a year ago when he returned from an overseas assignment.
His job is secret, with the implication he works in special ops for the government. I, obviously, know nothing, and grew up with my mother and stepfather. We’ll be purposefully vague on where I grew up and what my mother does for a living.
Braden and I stop in front of the double doors to the guest room. He knocks, and a home health aide opens the door. She gestures for us to come in and says, “He had a good night’s sleep, so he should be alert. Let me know if you need anything.”
She steps out, and I follow Braden into the sickroom. I’m surprised to see a middle-aged man with a full head of dark-brown hair, wide shoulders, and a thick mustache sitting at his grandfather’s bedside. He doesn’t look friendly, and I wonder if he’s Braden’s father, Wes Powers.
The man gets up and squares his shoulders, facing Braden straight on. “About time you came home, son.”
“I’m here to see Grandpa,” Braden says, and I can feel him bristling under his father’s stern glare. His voice has a hard edge to it, and I gather there’s no love lost between them.
The other man parks himself in front of Braden and moves his hardened eyes my direction. “You never did anything right. I can’t believe you sprung this on us at a time like this.”
“I came to see Grandpa,” Braden repeats. He puts his arm around my shoulders in a protective manner. “Samantha came to pay her respects, too.”
Braden’s father nods at me—his eyes hard as steel. “Glad to meet you. Don’t let my harshness with your father put you out.”
I don’t know what to say or how to react, so I lower my gaze to the floor and shrug.
Braden’s grip around my shoulders tightens, and he says, “None of this is her fault. It would have been a lot easier for me to leave her with her mother, but given how Grandpa is doing, I thought it was appropriate to bring her.”
“Yes, of course.” He’s still looking at me, shaking his head. “I never dreamed I have a granddaughter this old. Still getting used to a toddler.”
Well, sorry for intruding, I feel like saying, but I say nothing.
He pats my shoulder. “You can call me Wes.”
Guess he doesn’t even want me to call him Grouchy Gramps.
“Sure, Wes,” I reply. I don’t know him from Adam anyway, and this is a charade, so my feelings aren’t hurt.
Wes turns toward his father lying on the hospital bed. “Dad, I’ll be outside if you need us. Don’t overtire yourself.”
Without a glance at Braden, his father removes himself from the room. Guess there’s a boatload of bad blood there, but it’s none of my business.
Braden sighs heavily and pulls a chair next to the bed. He gestures for me to sit on the bed where a withered old man’s head is sunk down on a pillow.
“Hi.” My voice comes out little more than a squeak. “I’m Sammie.”
Braden’s grandfather’s hand is covered with tubes, and he has oxygen tubes in his nose, but his eyes twinkle even though his smile is little more than a grimace.
“It’s so good to see the both of you,” he says, and then endures a bout of coughing. “Tell me about yourself. What is your full name? Samantha middle-name Powers?”
“Samantha Leah Powers,” I reply with my real middle name.
“Well, Samantha Leah Powers, you can call me Poppy.” He reaches out to me with a shaky hand, and I grasp it, careful not to touch the tubes. “Tell me about yourself. They say you’re smart, just like your old man.”
He flashes Braden a wink, and just like that, the atmosphere relaxes inside the room. Whatever trouble Braden has with his family, it’s not with his grandfather.
“I don’t know if I’m that smart,” I say, then remember I’d created a profile of a kid who won math awards. “I’m homeschooled, but I take college-level math courses.”
“My, my, none of us are any good with numbers, are we?” Poppy clears his throat. “I used to have a pet store, and I was always short at the end of the month. I could have used your help. Tell me more. What do you like to do?”
