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She considers the offer, then gives in. “Alright.”
Grandma kisses my cheek, collects her suitcase, and leaves.
I watch her go, already dreading dinner. I’d only expected to keep Eric secret from Grandma for one night. Now I have to get through tonight and all of tomorrow without giving myself away. Two days shouldn’t feel impossible, but Grandma has been there for me my entire life. She knows me too well, and I don’t lie to her.
At least, I never have before.
That evening, Chloe and I arrive at Grandma’s house with Italian takeout and a bottle of wine.
The house sits low in the hills, hidden among pine and oak trees. It has only three bedrooms, but nothing about it feels cramped. Grandma and Granddad chose every piece of furniture to last. Most of it has been here longer than I have.
The kitchen is warm and bright. Copper pans hang above the stove, and the old oak table still bears a faint burn mark from the first meal Chloe ever cooked for us.
“I could have cooked,” Grandma says.
“You got home this morning,” Chloe replies. “Sit down.”
Grandma protests, but she takes her usual chair while we unpack the food. She tells Chloe about Spain and how Mavis became engaged to a man she met in Marbella, ended it when she learned how he voted, then took him back after he apologized over flaming crêpes.
My phone rings halfway through the story.
Eric.
I decline the call and turn my phone face down.
Grandma continues. Chloe passes me the wine.
My phone rings again before I can take a sip.
“Someone wants you,” Chloe says.
“He can wait.”
“He?” Grandma asks.
“A supplier.”
I decline the call.
“A persistent supplier,” Grandma says.
“He wants an answer.”
My phone begins vibrating with messages.
Eric: What are we doing tonight?
I type beneath the table.
Rachel: Grandma came home
Rachel: I can’t talk
Eric: Call me when you can
I lock the screen. When I look up, Chloe is pouring the wine as if she hasn’t noticed a thing.
Grandma watches me for another second before turning to Chloe. “How’s work?”
