The same one she used at my middle school parent conference when she told the principal I had ‘anger management skills, not issues.’
“You’re hiding.”
I blinked. “… from what?”
She snorted. “From life. From joy. From opportunity. And, most importantly,” she said dramatically, pausing for effect, “from that lovely slab of Australian beef you’ve been climbing like a tree.”
I inhaled my protein powder.
“Gran!”
“Oh, spare me.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I was born in 1938. Weinventedclimbing trees.”
I slapped a hand over my face. “This is not happening.”
She marched closer, poked my chest with the tomato can, and declared, “You’re using me as your excuse.”
My hand fell and I gaped at her. “…what?” I threw my hands in the air. “What—what's that even supposed to … seriously, Gran? Seriously?”
“You heard me.”
Poke.
“You tell yourself you can’t have a life because you have to take care of me—”
Poke.
“—which is absolute nonsense, because I’m perfectly healthy and extremely irresistible. Men drop like flies around me.”
“From heart attacks?” I glared at her.
“From longing,” she corrected haughtily, fluffing her hair.
I huffed. “Gran—”
“No.Listen.” She put down the tomato can, cupped my face in her hands surprisingly gently, and said softly, “You deserve to live your life while you have it, darling. Not after I’m dead. There’s no need to worry about me.”
My stomach twisted. “Gran, we’re barely staying ahead. The bills, the repairs, your prescriptions—”
“Darling.” She squeezed my cheeks in her hands. “If it weren’t for you wanting to go to college here, I would’ve sold this old house the minute the roof started shedding shingles like autumn leaves.”
I was so startled, I temporarily forgot to breathe. “You …what?”
She gave me a look like I’d just confessed the sky was green. “Developers have been circling this property for years. Buzzing around like overeager bees with checkbooks. You’ve seen the notes they leave on the gate.”
“Yeah, but—you always ignored them. I thought—”
“I ignored them because it wasn’t the right time,” she simply said. “Because you deserved stability.” Her thumb brushed my cheekbone. “If I sold this place, I’d be set. More than set. I’d be a menace with disposable income.”
Something hot pricked behind my eyes and my nose tingled.
“If it's money worrying you every night —stop. We’re not drowning. Not even close. And if we ever were? I’d sell the house before you missed a single bill.”
Something unclenched in my chest, something old and tight and always on alert. I exhaled sharply and it felt as though the tension I’d been holding onto left my body at the same time. Gran watched me with a smile.
“You’re using me because you’re scared, not because I actually need you,” she ascertained softly. “Terrified of loving somebody who might leave you behind again.”
The words hit harder than any punch I’d ever taken. When I didn’t respond, she held my face more firmly. My fucking mouth felt like someone had thrown a handful of protein powder sans milk in there.
