“She’s beautiful, right?”
He turned away, concentrating on the bacon sizzling in the pan. “Well, see, now, everyone defines that differently. Cora was beautiful.”
Gracie smiled, thinking of her dear grandmother. “Completely,” she agreed.
“But some people are just diamonds on the outside, and nothing but…coal dust on the inside.” He turned, his eyes looking…pained. “Gracie girl, any man who doesn’t see you as a catch needs his head examined.”
She smiled, touched by the comment but frowning as she searched his face.
“You okay?” she asked. “You look…worried.”
“Nah,” he said quickly, waving it off. “Just listening and thinking about…it all.”
What all? “Do you not like Marshall, Red?”
He hesitated just a second too long. Then he shook his head. “I like him fine. Good man. Seems steady.”
“But?” she pressed gently.
He started to say something—she saw it, the flicker of words right behind his lips—then footsteps padded down the hall.
Benny appeared in his pajamas, hair sticking up, glasses askew, phone in hand. “Mom? Guess what?”
“What, sweetheart?”
He plopped onto a stool. “Olivia texted me. They’re going skiing today. Her mom, her dad, and her. The three of them.”
“Bianca is skiing?” Red asked, sounding oddly surprised by that.
“Well, she doesn’t want to ski but she wants ‘the family experience’”—Benny used air quotes—“‘and a picture for Instagram.”
Gracie froze for half a breath. “Oh,” she said lightly. “How fun. I…I…” Never heard a word about skiing today, she thought.
Why wouldn’t Marshall mention that? Or maybe he didn’t know. Or it had to do with…what had Marshall called it? Bianca’s secret agenda? What could that possibly be, other than the obvious ploy to win him back.
She forced a smile. “That’s…nice. Family time.”
Benny nodded, abandoning the phone to attack the bacon. She waited for Red to tell him to hold off until the eggs were ready, but when she looked across the kitchen, her grandfather was staring out the window.
His gaze was steady, his bearded jaw set the way it was when he was digging deep for the answer to a particularly hard crossword clue.
“What is it, Red?” she asked softly.
He shook his head and held up a hand as if to stave off any more questions. “Nothing. Just—be careful, Gracie girl. People are full of surprises. Sometimes good ones, sometimes the other kind.”
Her throat tightened, but she managed another smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, Red. I’m not sixteen.”
He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging down as he laid bacon on a paper towel. “You’re my granddaughter. That’s my job.”
“Your job is to be Grumpy Santa on the sleigh,” Benny said. “Any chance I could suit up in my elf costume and go with, Grandpa? With Olivia gone and school on break, I don’t have anything to do.”
“You can be my bodyguard all day.”
“Cool!” He stood up and squared his little pajama-clad shoulders. “Just call me McBride. Benedict McBride.”
“You need a bodyguard?” Gracie asked, laughing at Benny’s bad James Bond imitation.
“Yes, because I have a stalker. That Sergeant Bertie won’t let me have five minutes of peace without slapping something on my wrist to measure things that have no right being measured. I don’t know what my…myvoxis and I don’t care!”
