I don’t blame her though, considering who she was married to.
I always felt like Gam saw through to the truth of a situation. My dad inherited her sharp eye and keen judgment and squandered it all building an empire for one that ultimately tore his own family apart.
Meanwhile, Gam was my backbone. The person I always knew I could turn to.
Unless she smells great-grandbabies, apparently.
“Take me to her.”
My attention snaps back to her. She’s sitting tall, as always, and she has that resolute look on her face that she gets any time she thinks she’ll be facing opposition.
I snort. “No.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Ryder Christopher Blackwell.”
I sit up straighter, instantly transported back to my pre-teen self, caught sneaking into Gam’s house at midnight because it was closer to my friends’ houses than my own. As a teenager, her thumb tugging on my collar to reveal the hickey I had been so desperate to cover up. As a less-than-legal adult, being caught red-handed with a pounder in my hand.
“What?” I ask, because I’m pretty sure I’m notactuallydoing anything wrong.
But man does Gam have a way of making me feel like I’ve started another world war.
“I would like you to please take me to the sunflower farm.”
I purse my lips, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this.
“Gam, you just had both hips replaced and that farm is a minefield of potholes. There’s no pavement and the fields themselves might as well be a death trap.”
She rolls her eyes, waving me off. “My hips are fine. I can deal with a dirt road as long as I can go at my own pace. Lord knows if you weren’t so quick to chastise me, I’d be running all over this town.”
“Gam, I can’t stop you if you really want to take your life in your own hands in that way, but I think we both know that that road is not safe to cross right here. You can’t see around the bend and people fly around it at nearly fifty miles an hour. You might have new hips, but we can’t replace the rest of you if you get hit.”
I see the hint of a smile on her face, despite her flaring nostrils. “So you’ll take me, then?”
I take another sip of my whiskey. “You negotiate dirty.”
Her smile widens to a grin. “Where do you think your father got it from?”
We pullinto the sunflower farm early in the day, when the parking lot is only about half capacity and the sun is high in the sky but the air is cool against your face. I wanted to come during the busiest time of day to obscure our visit, but I couldn’t shake the thought of unruly children bumping into Gam or a crowd just not paying attention to a little old woman who, despite her insistence, is not quite ready to walk on her own yet.
Of course, I don’t think Eve is hankering to talk to me anyway. She’ll probably be just as willing as I am to spot each other from across the farm and keep our respective distance.
Not that I reallywantto keep the distance, but I don’tneed Gam getting in the middle of things. As good as her intentions might be.
I round the car as Gam gets out the other side and hold my elbow out for her to take.
She’s not fazed one bit by the dips and divots in the road, and rather than using my arm to keep her steady, she uses it to walk in a straight line while her attention catches on everything but the road in front of her.
Her hip replacement was not all that long ago, and I try to convince her to at least use the cane, but she insists that all she needs is a companion who doesn't mind taking it slow with her.
So, here we are in the early autumn sun, surrounded by sunflowers and wildflowers and nature and all sorts of intrusive thoughts about where Eve might be right now, what she’s doing and thinking and whether she hates me or not.
And my grandmother, face to the sky and smiling. Whether it’s because she’s happy to be out and about someplace other than the tiny courtyard in her building or it’s because she’s scheming, I’ll never know.
Of course with her, she’s probably thrilled to do both at the same time.
“So,” she says, squeezing my elbow as we walk, “I booked us a tour of the farm and let them know I’m disabled so I won’t be able to do any of the field activities,” she says, eyeing me like she deserves praise for finally taking precautions with herself. “The girl I spoke to on the phone was very sweet and assured me we can take a break from the tour at any point in time—we should just let our guide know if the terrain is too difficult.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re being careful,” I tell her.
