“What does she want?” Nadia asked.
“I thought she was after money, but it appears she just wants to get to know her relatives,” he said.
“Goodness.” Nadia rubbed her temples. “What are we gonna do?” She held her hands up. “What am I talking about? There’s only one thing wecando. We have to tell Grams. You haven’t said anything to her, have you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” she said, rising from the table. “She would have called me.”
Thad worried his bottom lip with his teeth, regarding his sister as she paced the length of the room while calling his grandfather everything but a child of God. He gave her the space she needed to vent. He’d had time to digest this news; she hadn’t.
“Nadia, are you sure about this?” Thad asked when she finally calmed.
“Am I sure that the man I thought was a saint was actually the devil?” she asked. She pointed at the computer. “That picture tells the story.”
“Not that,” Thad said. “Are you sure about telling Grams? Does she really need to know about this?”
His sister looked at him as if his head had flown off his body and set itself on the table.
“Are you out of your mind? Of course we have to tell her. You want to talk about disrespect? Disrespect is letting my grandmother go on thinking that her husband was this upstanding paragon, when he was actually a lying, cheating bastard.” She slapped her palm to her forehead. “I cannot believe this. I cannot believe we’re talking about Gramps.”
Her voice broke on the last word.
“I know,” Thad said, his voice raspy with the same hurt and disappointment he could tell his sister was feeling. He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you think we should tell Grams, then that’s what we’ll do. She has a right to know.”
When he awoke the next morning, Thad had a hard time remembering another task he’d dreaded as much as the one that lay before him today.
Nadia packed her luggage so that he could bring herstraight to the airport following the visit with their grandmother. Thad picked up the piece of foiled-covered wedding cake—Grams had texted twice already this morning—and added water to Puddin’s bowl before leaving the house. He was actually getting better at being home alone if Thad only left him for a few hours.
His grandmother would be upset that he hadn’t brought her dog, but it would only last for a minute. She had other things to upset her this time around.
With traffic as light as it was on Sunday mornings, they made it to the assisted living facility in a matter of minutes. Grams was in her unit, which was nicer than some of the studio apartments that rented for ridiculous amounts in this city.
“I hate that you have to go back home so soon,” Grams said as she wrapped Nadia in a hug. She pinched her on the arm. “That’s for not bringing my great-granddaughters with you.”
“I already told you that we’re coming back for Thanksgiving,” Nadia said.
“That’s too long to wait.” She looked to Thad. “Where’s my cake? And why didn’t you bring Puddin’?”
“I have to bring Nadia straight to the airport. Puddin’ would have just gotten in the way.” Thad swallowed. “Grams, we need to tell you something.”
Grams looked from him to Nadia. “Who’s dead?”
“Nobody died,” Thad said. What was with the women in his family? “But I… uh… I recently got some disturbing news about Gramps.”
Her brows arched. “Well, he’s dead, so it can’t be too disturbing.”
Thad looked to his sister, who nodded.
“This is hard to say, Grams, and I swear I debated the whole drive over whether or not we should even share this with you—”
“Boy, would you say whatever it is you’ve got to say so I can eat my cake,” his grandmother prompted.
Thad sucked in a deep breath. Then, before he lost his nerve, said, “Someone contacted me a few weeks ago, claiming to be Gramps’s granddaughter. I haven’t confirmed her story, but we have a strong feeling that it’s true. He was having an affair, Grams. For a long time.”
She stared at him for a moment, then her lips tipped up in an amused, sardonic grin.
“You’re talking about Sybil Jackson in Mobile?” she asked.
