“I didn’t know there was a boy until now.” Placing a hand on my hip, recalling what I’d said that would have tipped him off, but there was nothing. “How could you know?”
“I could hear it in your voice this morning when I called. You were frazzled—”
“Dad,” I cut him off, but he stops me by standing and dropping his tablet back to the table. “It’s okay, honey. This is exactly what you need.” Extending his arms out, he invites me for a hug.
I smash my lips together, holding in all my quivers, and walk forward. It’s an embrace that always comforts me, even when I’m being stubborn. I’m smiling again by the time I pull back. “Okay.” I point down the hall. “Tell Mom Happy New Year. Wait a second." I tap my finger to my chin. "Is Mom even in the tub?”
“Nope. Went to bed two hours ago. That’s what I said to get you to stay. If you knew she was in bed, you’d have felt guilty for staying.” He winks at me, nodding toward the door. “Better get home.”
“Deal.” I slip on my shoes while speaking over my shoulder. “I’m working extra for a while, so I won’t have time for Home Hardware for a few days. I’ll call you as soon as I have a break.”
“It’s okay.” Dad shakes his head. “I don’t want to go to Home Hardware. I’m sick of that place.”
“What are you talking about?” I blink, rewinding his words. “You love going there.”
“Nah, reminds me of work. I only went there to find you a man, but it seems you might have actually found one. So, no, I don’t need to go.”
“You’re making this up.”
“Believe what you want.” He walks to the front window, pulls back the curtain, and takes a protective stance.
“Are you going to watch me walk down the street?” I retrieve my grocery sack and open the door, already knowing the answer to my question.
“Yep, and text me when you get home.”
“Love you, Dad."
“Love you, too.”
Now that I know Mom is sleeping, I close the door as softly as I can. My dad is a turkey. There’s no way he can be telling the truth. We’ve gone to Home Hardware together for a year. He wouldn’t have done it if he hated it. Plus, he hasn’t even met Christian.
There’s no way he would know.
He can’t know.
I shake my head, heading down the street at a brisk walking pace.
Could he know? Wait. What’s there to know?
Now I want to know.
twenty-six
Christian
I tap lightly on my grandmother’s bedroom door, not moving even a toe inside. The pit of my stomach feels heavy and sour as dread consumes me. “Grandma,” I whisper. “You awake?”
“Christian, is that you?” Her voice sounds more tired than usual, but not weak.
“Yeah.” Accepting that as an invitation, I walk forward until she can see me. She looks like her same old self, with straight dark hair ratted in the back from laying down. Her skin is relatively warm toned for someone who is ill. Wheel of Fortune plays on the wall TV, and she has a tray with several glasses of fluids next to her. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was an ordinary day for her. But I do know better, and I step forward respectfully. “How are you?”
“Well, I’ve heard it might be my time to go, but I’m not going to listen to that.” She looks at me straight, her eyelids flutteringclosed before she pulls them open again. “Plus, you and I have some business to talk about.”
I lower my eyes to the floor. The heaviness consumes me. “Grandma, you don’t have to talk about anything.”
“Nope.” She adjusts the linen blanket, pulling it tighter around her. “I’ve been unfair to you. We both know that.”
As much as I want to agree with her, I don’t. I also want to ask what made her change her mind, but it didn’t matter now. “It’s all right.”
