A surprised laugh escaped my lips. I took a step back and faced the table.
“Everyone, this is my grandfather, Jack Peabody. Grampy, everyone.”
Grampy looked around the table. His gaze landed on Hadley and then Salem. “Ladies.”
They beamed back at him.
Grampy’s discerning, sharp gaze continued around the table, pausing for a moment on Muddy, and then eventually sliding to Brooks.
Brooks rose.
“You’re Brooks,” he stated.
“Yes, sir.”
Grampy nodded. “All right. You and I need to have a conversation.”
“Yes, sir,” Brooks said easily.
I looked at Muddy for aid despite the fact that my grandfather wasn’t yelling.
Yet.
“Den,” she said. “Take the den and close the doors.”
“You sure?” I asked.
She nodded.
Grampy looked at Muddy for a moment again. “You’re the one.”
“The one what?” Muddy asked.
“The one who gave my granddaughter the money for the bookstore she wants to open in town.”
I looked at Brooks. “You told him that, too?”
Brooks nodded.
“Whatdidn’tyou tell him?” I demanded, but it was a rhetorical question.
“You can thank me later,” Muddy said.
My grandfather’s spine snapped straight. “Thankyou? You want me tothank you?”
“Uh-oh,” Salem murmured.
“Double uh-oh,” Hadley added.
“Yes, you should thank me,” Muddy said, rising from her chair. “She needed the money; I was happy to offer it.”
“If she needed the money, then she should’ve askedme,” Grampy snapped, his silver eyebrows slashing together in anger.
“But she didn’t ask you, did she?” Muddy prodded.
Grampy looked at me. “No, she didn’t. She didn’t even tell me she was moving to Huckleberry Hill and opening a bookstore. Let alone that she’s shacked up and pregnant.”
I winced. “Can’t we have this conversation in the den? In private?”
