Laughing, I nodded. “I won’t forget.”
After closing the door, I turned, and Gramps stood behind me with his long curling brows pushed down and his lips smashed together. I jumped, not expecting him to be up and about or listening in on our conversation.
“Nope. No. No. No. No,” he mumbled with a shaken head, walking back to his room, and I followed after him. “No granddaughtah of mine will be associated with a Pruitt! Stupid wandoughts with the …” he grumbled before slamming the door in my face.
I dropped my head and sucked in a breath, then opened his bedroom door. “How mature of you,” I said as he crawled back in his bed, coughing, his elbows and knees shaking. “I don’t get it. You hate the Heathens. You obviously hate Kane Pruitt, who is only a friend, not that it’s any of your business. So please, tell me Gramps, who is deserving of your beloved granddaughter’s friendship?”
“A nice and well-behaved Texas boy,” he stated, and I barked out a laugh. “Pruitts are good for nuthin’ rantallions––”
“Rantallions? What. Are. You. Even. Saying?”
“Look it up, why don’t yah, with yah fancy technology!” Gramps narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care who in tarnation yah choose, as long as yah don’t bedswerve…and no one from this town …What ar-ya still doin’ heyah, anyhow? It’s been weeks, Moonshine. Gohome!go back to the life yah made for yaself.”
There wasn’t a life back in Texas. I’d never made a life there for myself. With Dad and Marietta gone, I’d only felt misplaced.
But I didn’t say any of that. “You basically begged me, throwing a pity party. You sent me the letter, gave me the directions to your house, left me a key, got me a job! Deep down, Gramps, you want me here, but you’re just too stubborn to admit it. You’re too stubborn to admit to yourself that you need help.”
He shook his finger in the air, and his jowls shook along with it. “I got yah the damn job, but I never sent yah no letter askin’ yah. I wouldah nevah asked yah to come back heyah.”
Defeated, I whipped around and rushed out of his room and ran up the stairs. When I entered my room, I snatched my purse from the floor and emptied the contents onto the bed. Proving to him that he was losing his short-term memory could crumble him and possibly send him into another heart attack like the last time. But as I descended the stairs with the letter clutched in my fist, I decided to do this gently. Gramps had to see that he did need me, and it was okay. I would be here for him.
I entered his bedroom, and Gramps already had the newspaper in front of him over the breakfast tray, working diligently on the crossword puzzle. He didn’t bother looking up when I’d entered, and I sat beside him on the edge of the mattress and unfolded the letter with nervous fingers.
“When you first sent me a letter about a year ago, and you called meMoonshine, it was the first time I was happy since Marietta died. I wrote you back, Gramps, and for a year, I looked forward to seeing your letter in my mailbox every day. If you don’t need me, I’m not too stubborn to say that I need you. I want to be here, not because you’re sick, but because I want to get to know my grandfather.”
I handed him the letter, yet he still wouldn’t look at me. It seemed as if a lifetime passed as he read it, and I waited with a held breath for him to finish and say something. I didn’t care what he said as long as he didn’t get upset or angry or worse.
“Moonshine,” he said roughly. “Yah wrote me sixty-five lettahs ovah the last twelve months, and I wrote yah sixty-six.” He paused and looked up at me in deep thought. I could see it in his expression, the way his eyes morphed into a war. Something was bothering him, and I wished he would spit it out already. “This lettah? I didn’t send this. These aren’t my words. This,” he gripped the letter in his hand, shaking it, “This isn’t my handwriting. I woulda nevah asked yah to come. I only wanted to love yah at a distance. Yah already experienced enough death. It would be no good to have to meet me only ta lose me too.”
My shoulders went slack under the weight of his words. He’d said he wanted to love me, and that washed over everything else he’d said. His confession caused tears to brim my eyes because I knew how hard it was for him to admit. However, Gramps’ expression was the opposite. His eyes filled with comprehension and a bit of horror, which pulled me back to the same question he was faced with.
“Then who sent me this letter?”
Chapter 18
Fallon
Casper followedme from the bedroom into my bathroom, weaving between my legs as I stood before the mirror to get ready for the night. I loaded thick layers of mascara and painted wings over my eyelids as he meowed at my feet. It was as if Casper knew where I was going and didn’t like it one bit.
Earlier, Gramps refused to say any more about the letter and only mentioned he was tired. Once I’d started dinner, he had awoken and dragged his feet into the kitchen while I finished up Salisbury steak with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. Both of us had remained silent throughout dinner, our thoughts straying to the letter, wondering who wrote it, and what it meant for us. Gramps didn’t have the answers, and I’d never seen him more flabbergasted and panicked, which only worried me more.
I arrived at Voodoos late, half-past ten, and the place was packed. Before I’d come to Weeping Hollow, I’d only been to a bar twice. Each occasion had been due to finals in college and colleagues at work. Yet, here I was again.
My gaze latched onto Monday’s bright red hair, and I squeezed through the crowd, failing miserably at avoiding bumping shoulders with anyone. The majority of the crowd was bunched together near the dartboards in the corner, adjacent to a large chalkboard hanging over the brick wall.
Adora was seated in the corner of the room over a high-top stool with chalk between her fingers, her long legs crossed, and eyes on Kane. Despite what happened in the dressing room, I still wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. She’d only mentioned she didn’t want to see Kane and me together, and I’d shown up and didn’t think twice if she’d be here or how my coming here would make her feel, though I only saw Kane as a friend.
I paused in the middle of the floor, scanning the crowd, mostly made up of Sacred Sea. I felt out of place as people shoved past me. My nerves crept to the surface, feeding hastily on my conscience.
“Fallon!” Fable called out when her gaze found mine from across the room. Her long and spiraling brown hair swayed above her hips as she walked toward me with her palms up at her sides. “Maverick is kicking Kane’s ass, and Kane is losing it,” she filled me in as she walked me to where a group of people crowded around. “Kane always wins. Every tournament, never fails,” she went on, and I couldn’t help but look for the Heathens—to look for Julian.
If it were at all possible, I could physically feel my heart sinking with every face my eyes crossed. It turned cold inside my chest. He wasn’t here, and I returned my gaze to Fable and forced a smile.
The others greeted me while Kane threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his chest. “Oh, you’re in trouble now, Mav. My good luck charm has arrived,” he called out to Maverick, and his hot and booze-filled breath spilled from his lips. I let my arms hang awkwardly at my sides, waiting for him to let me go, and eventually, he did.
“Kane, just throw the dart already,” Adora said through a sigh with a wave of her hand.
The rest agreed, shouting over the music and loud conversations. I sat beside Monday and Fable at the bar, watching as Kane straightened his form, pinched the dart between his two fingers with a squinted eye, and lifted his chin, serious mode activated.
