“I know exactly what you mean,” I respond without missing a beat.
We have lunch at the cafeteria, and I let him go on about his plan to take Grandma to Buenos Aires for her birthday. “It’s a secret,” he says with a conspiratorial wink.
I force a smile, praying he doesn’t notice the tears forming in my eyes. Taking my grandparents to Buenos Aires was my dream, all those years ago. And that dream is dead, never to come true. “My lips are sealed.”
He tells me all the things he’d like to do for Grandma, and I nod and offer suggestions, smiling until my cheeks hurt. He careens from one subject to another in a random pattern as his mind shifts, like a butterfly that can’t decide which flower it wants to land on. I follow as best I can, wanting to preserve his good mood. But in the back of my mind there’s a question that won’t go away: what triggered Grant to come up after all these years?
“Tell him if he’s going to visit again, he better bring me a real good burgundy,” Grandpa says suddenly.
“Who?”
“Grant,” he says. “He didn’t bring anything when he came.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure.” I kiss Grandpa on the cheek, making a mental note to see if I can bring some for him instead.
He yawns. “Boy, I’m tired. Kat and I danced all night yesterday. We’re trying to perfect this move, but she sprained her ankle, I’m afraid.”
I nod silently. I don’t have the heart to tell him they couldn’t have danced all night if Grandma had an injured ankle.
“Think I’ll nap a little. How about you?”
“I have to go grocery shopping,” I say, hoping this will get him to accept my departure without a scene. Sometimes everything can go smoothly, then he’ll freak out over my needing to end our visit. Telling him I have to work doesn’t penetrate when he’s in that kind of mood.
“Good idea. See what Kat wants before you go. She was saying something about needing tomatoes.”
“I’ll be sure to check.”Seems like today will be okay.
I walk with him to his bedroom. He doesn’t seem to take in his environment and realize that we’re not really home. The room he has is large, but doesn’t have the pale paisley curtains Grandma picked out when they moved into the house where I eventually grew up. The walls are industrial white, rather than the cheery, creamy yellow with stenciled daisies.
Still, I’m glad he doesn’t notice those details or remember them, because he’s happier this way.
He slips under the sheets and curls up like a child on his side, his hands folded together as though in prayer. I kiss his temple, then shut the light off and close the door.
When I reach the lobby, I stop in front of Gi-Hoon. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine. I just wanted to know if anybody came to visit my grandfather in the last few days.”
“Yeah. Some guy came by. I think he might’ve been one of your grandfather’s dance students.”
Not a bad guess on Gi-Hoon’s part, but Grandpa’s students have no idea where he is. On top of that, they haven’t visited since he first entered a nursing home. Why would they start now?
“Do you remember his name?”
“No, but since he isn’t family, I asked him to sign in. Here’s the visitors’ log.” He pulls out his phone and flips through. “Lemme see… Here it is. Grant Lasker.”
What thehell? A furious sense of violation explodes in my chest, leaving my whole body trembling. I lean over to look at Gi-Hoon’s screen. And there it is. Grant’s ID and signature.
Bastard. Fuckingbastard. He took my virginity, turned me into a joke and now he needs to rip into my private life? Nothing good can possibly come from this.
Is this why Grant asked me about the auction and what I did with the money? Did he make snide comments about Grandpa’s clothes like he did with me? Grandpa takes great pride in how he looks, so that would cut him deeply. Or…did Grant manage to get Grandpa to say something he didn’t mean or understand while he was confused?
I don’t care if Grant wants to hurt me. But Grandpa is off-limits!
“Is everything okay?” Gi-Hoon asks, searching my face.
“Yes. Fine. I’ve just got a migraine at the moment. Thanks.” I flash him a smile. It’s tighter than I want, but it’s the best I can do.
