“All of it. This was well done ten minutes before they stopped slaughtering it on the grill.”
“You cook?”
“Of course!”
“My brothers are eaters, not makers.”
“Then shame on them. My grandmother taught me everything I know. I inherited her sourdough starter?—”
“You can inherit that?”
“You can. It was the only thing I wanted from the old bitch. There’s one reason that starter’s so good—it was exposed to years of sourness by association.”
“Ouch!”
“She had a hard life and damn if she didn’t let us know. Especially my father.”
“Currau shared his past with me,” she admitted.
“Honestly, I’m glad he brings it up with someone.” I paused. “Do you guys talk about anything else?”
“Of course. Hell, he’s a real chatterbox when he wants to be.”
Because I couldn’t imagine that, I gaped at her.
“I swear he is. I can’t get him to shut up. Especially aboutCSI. I try to even things up though. He bitches about PT a lot and I harangue him to persevere?—”
“And he takes it?”
“Yeah. He’s so goddamn stubborn.”
“I think that might be a family trait.”
She laughed. “Good to know. I do try to get him to talk to you guys.” Her smile faded. “He’s got it into his head that he’s sparing you.”
"Sparing us? From what?”
“When he dies…”
The knife handle bit into my palm. “It kills Rory when he ignores her.”
“I can imagine.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that he talks to you. Rory even got him a therapist last year?—”
“I heard all about that,” she inserted with a snort. “He wasn’t happy.”
“Why didn’t he tell her?”
“I wish I knew. I passed on to his nurses that the therapy had a detrimental effect on his mood, but that was as far as I could take things. He isn’t under my care.” Her nose scrunched. “It’s hard because I know he doesn’t talk to them either. It’s definitely a juggle and they think I’m both crazy and work-shy, sitting with an old guy who doesn’t speak a word to anyone.
“I feel guilty keeping our friendship to myself, but it’s a trust thing at this point.”
Despite my irritation, something that I aimed purely at my obstinate great-uncle, I released a breath. “You’re right. It is.”
“I don’t want him to stop talking to me. Then hewouldbe isolated, and I know he enjoys my visits. I’d hate for him to cut me off when I’m the only one he’ll talk to.” She raked her fork over her own portion of sacrilegious beef. “Stan? I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to him.”
“Mention what? That you told me?”
