He presses a small card into my hand.
“This is my private number. Call it any time, day or night, and wherever you are, I will come for you.”
“Thank you.”
As he hesitates, I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist and cling on tight, hating how emotional I am but craving a warm hug from someone who only has my best interests at heart.
His strong hand on my back reassures and he whispers, “Thank you for meeting with me, Tiffany. You have made an old man extremely happy.”
As he pulls away, he stops and appears curious.
“What about your mother? Will you visit her too?”
“Why would I?”
I shrug. “She has made no effort with me and, unlike my sisters, I’m good with that.”
“She must have hurt you deeply.”
“Because what daughter isn’t curious about her mother, I’m guessing.”
I shrug again. “From what I’ve heard, she’s not that great anyway, so it’s probably best if I live with my imagination where she is concerned. She can live there and I can pretend she is better, at least. Reality has a habit of destroying dreams, and apparently, she is more of a nightmare, anyway.”
I smile. “But you have exceeded my expectations, Grandfather, and I hope we can meet again very soon and spend a little longer next time.”
“Me too, Tiffany.”
His deep sigh reminds me of how unhappy he is with the situation, and he points to the card in my hand.
“Remember, I’m here for you, no matter the circumstances. You only have to call.”
As he makes to leave, I remember one unsolved mystery, and he stops as I say quickly, “May I just ask, are you aware of three keys my father left? One for each of us.”
“A key?”
“As in a safe deposit box, perhaps?”
“No,” I shake my head, remembering the ornate iron keys that my father was so determined we guard with our lives.
“I’m sorry. I have no knowledge of a key, or anything it may unlock.”
Disappointment tastes bitter, and I heave a sigh.
“Thank you. At least I can cross a line through your name where the keys are concerned.”
“Don’t cross a line through my name for anything else, Tiffany. I want to be a grandfather to you, if you let me, that is.”
“I want that too.”
As he turns, he appears hesitant, and then with a brief smile, he heads to the door, leaving me to slump back on the bench and stare at the beautiful painting.
Despite everything, I’m glad I met him and am hopeful for more visits, and his offer is tempting. It gives me a place to go should the need arise, and part of me wonders if I would turn to him, or The Order of the Holy Mother of God, should I need a place to go in the future.
CHAPTER 24
JOSEPH
Spencer fills me in on his progress while we wait in the next room for Tiffany to speak with Walter.
