There’s no more hiding, no more silence.
Her mother still hasn’t spoken to her since that dinner after she walked out. Kayla said the bitch was waiting for Charlie to come begging for forgiveness.
Those weren’t Kayla’s exact words, but it translated.
It’s not a surprise that Agatha won’t even consider that her daughter hasn’t done a fucking thing wrong. I’m so goddamn proud of Charlie for sticking to her guns. I know it still hurts her, thinking about how she’s lost her family. Kayla is still talking to her, but no one else is.
That’s one of the reasons I’ve brought her here today; to remind her that she might’ve lost her blood family, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have one.
“That you, Dillon?” Gran calls out, and I look over my shoulder, catching Charlie’s eager smile.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Good. I’ve just put the kettle on. We’ll have our tea on the back porch.”
I don’t bother to stifle my groan. “One day,” I yell, “you’re gonna have a nice cold beer waiting for me, and I’ll pass out from the shock.”
“Well, today is not that day!”
Outside, the afternoon is shining down on the backyard, and I sit down on the wooden porch swing, tucking Charlie in next to me.
“You should’ve told her I was here,” she admonishes. “She’s only going to make two teas.” There’s a gleam in her eyes that tells me she’s already onto my game. I flick up a brow, staring ather unrepentantly.
“Pretty sure I did that on purpose.”
Charlie shakes her head at me, her smile amused as she leans in to give me a peck on the lips. Just then, the door opens, and Gran comes out, her attention down and on her tray. The ceramic cups rattle as she takes careful steps toward the garden table.
“So, why do I get a surprise visit today? Lately, trying to get you around here is like trying to pry out one of my wisdom teeth with a pair of rusty pliers.”
“Well, isn’t that a lovely visual,” I say dryly. “It hasn’t been that long since I was last here.”
Gran makes it to the table, setting the tray down and looking up, her eyes widening as she catches sight of Charlie. “Oh!”
She escapes my hold, standing up and wrapping her arms around Gran. “It’s so good to see you, Libby.”
“Charlie,” she whispers, hugging her back. She pulls away, twinkling eyes bouncing between us. “Are you two…?”
My girl lifts a shoulder, eyeing me teasingly. “We’re working some things out.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen my grandmother shed a tear, even when my grandad passed away eight years ago. But her eyes water, her shaky hands squeezing Charlie’s. “I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.” She pauses, her white eyebrows dipping together as something occurs to her. “I only made two teas. Let me go?—”
“Charlie can have mine,” I cut in over her, tone urgent. “Please, for the love of Satan, don’t make me a tea.”
Gran purses her lips together sourly. “Don’t know where your mother went wrong with you.” There’s a pause. “Well, that’s an outright lie, but you’re my only grandchild, so I’ll pretend I don’t know.”
“Oh, thanks,” I say sarcastically, pressing a hand to my chest. “I’m feeling all sorts of love.”
Charlie’s grinning. “I’ve missed this,” she declares, and my grandmother’s expression softens.
“Well, don’t you go missing again, girlie,” she orders. “We missed you around here, too.” Gran pats Charlie’s hand before turning away, ordering, “Drink your tea up. It’s just Earl Grey today.” The look she shoots me is pure triumph.
I glare at her, mumbling, “The one day she makes the normal stuff.”
Charlie comes to sit next to me, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders, careful not to knock her mug. I kick my toes against the porch, gently swinging us, sighing when she leans into me, contentment washing through my body.
Gran takes her seat at the metal table, her eyes fixed on us. “So, tell me. How did this happen?” She flicks a hard look in my direction. “I’d lost all hope that you’d ever be able to make things right.”
“I think I’m offended,” I say, while Charlie throws me a wicked smile.
