“Mmm, hmm. Very ridiculous.” As was this pot calling the kettle black.
She turned to me and spotted the stack of letters in my hands. “What are those?”
I came closer. “Damien’s letters to me.”
She reached out, and I let her take the one off the top. “But they’re mostly unopened.” She slid her finger across the flap, and I didn’t try to stop her.
“What does it say?” I asked.
She read it herself for almost a minute before dropping the letter on the little round table in front of her and looking up at me. “He says that he misses you and can’t say anything about where he’s living or what he’s doing. And then he tells you some marvelous stories about where he’s living and what he’s doing.” She smiled and was quiet for a long time, which was very unlike her.
“Granny, I have to tell you something.”
She wrung her hands together and then shoved them in her lap. “Go ahead and say it.”
Did she know? The unease I sensed in her body language made saying it aloud that much harder.
“I don’t think…” I took a deep breath. “I don’t think Damien left because he had to. I think he left on purpose. I think he’s lying to us.”
Granny’s mouth trembled. “I’m so sorry, my girl.” She reached out and grasped my hands with her cold, thin ones. Her skin was so soft and fragile.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m fine. I’m just worried about you.”
She shook her head. “I’ve known. I’ve known for a while. But I thought you believed it, and as long as that was the case, I didn’t want to be the one to break your heart. That was selfish of me.”
I dropped into the chair across from her, stunned and relieved all at once. “Then I’m just as selfish because I’ve been doing the same thing. I thought I was protecting you from the truth. But now we know.”
“Now we know,” she repeated. “Iwasbeing selfish, though. I could have told him off months ago, but I liked getting his letters. Still do. He’s a more attentive letter writer than he ever was a visitor.”
“Then we let him write,” I said with a nod. We’d keep things just as they were, though the thought didn’t quite comfort me the way it used to.
“What is it?” Granny asked, reading the discomfort in my face.
“What if he comes back? He could take the dogs away from me.”
“Damien’s not going to do anything of the sort. You’ll keep those dogs as long as I live. And after I’m gone my money will allow you to bribe him or sue him or whatever tickles your fancy.”
“Granny, I can’t take your money.”
“Not take, inherit. Now don’t get your panties in a twist. You don’t get all of it. Just enough to really tick off everyone else.”
It was useless to argue, so I gave it up. Granny had a great lawyer. I’m sure she had all sorts of fun ideas about how to cause drama on her way out. Iron clad drama. The thought made me smile.
Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve fallen for someone else, haven’t you? That’s why you came to clear the air, so to speak.”
“No.” The lie slipped out automatically, but I couldn’t let it go uncorrected. “Okay, maybe.”
“Is it Connor? He gives you a pretty yard and some sweet talk, and bam,” Granny smacked the table. “He’s taken you in. Just like Damien.”
“He’s not like Damien, Granny.”
“Well, good.” She nodded. “That’s good.”
It was weird to adjust my thinking so drastically. Granny hadn’t hated Connor because he wasn’t Damien. She’d feared he might be just like him. I took a deep breath, knowing if I could be successfully honest in this and survive, I might as well be honest in everything. “Granny, those adventures we go on—”
Granny stuck her hands over her ears and shook her head. “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you.”
“Granny!” I frowned at her until she stopped.
