Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Gramps curses, but it’s pain in his voice, not anger when he says, “Honey, why? He’s an old man compared to you. And cold as a witch’s tit. Even as a kid, he wasn’t right, Gert. He’d skulk around in the shadows, watching everyone with those X-ray eyes of his, like a creepy little spy.”
“Oh, come on, Gramps.”
“No,” he says, doubling down. “He was a weirdo. And way too quiet. Never trust a kid that quiet, there’s something wrong with them.”
I frown.
Quiet…
I have enough experience with kids to know that quiet isn’t normal. Even shy kids communicate in their own way and open up in situations where they feel comfortable. The only kid I know who was quiet all the time was Maya’s nephew, Reese, the one who we later learned was being abused by his dad.
Maya’s sister, Mallory, had to get a restraining order against her bastard ex during the divorce. Now, years later, and with plenty of therapy, Reese isn’t quiet anymore. When he comes to visit, he’s a happy, giggly boy who runs wild through the sprinklers with my second cousins, just like all the other kids.
And suddenly, like that, it all falls into place.
I rise from my chair, letting the afghan slide to the floor. “I have to go, Gramps.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“To talk to Weaver. I think I made a mistake.” I start toward the front door only to remember that I’m still in the grubby sweats and long-sleeved tee I slept in and reverse course.
“The only mistake you made with that man was getting mixed up with him in the first place.”
I pause with my hand on the back door. “No, Gramps. I forgot something important, something you taught me, actually.”
He blinks, his cheeks puffing out. “And what’s that?”
“You always made it clear that I wasn’t defined by the bad things that happened to me when I was little. I wasn’t the girl whose mom abandoned her or the kid with a drunk for a dad. I was me, and I got to decide how I defined myself. I got to choose to be the girl who was the apple of her grandfather’s eye and the best player on the rugby team and a person my friends could always count on.”
He sighs, nodding slowly. “And you did a great job of that, kid.”
“I know, thanks to you. And the rest of the family, even annoying Aunt Cathy,” I say, earning a grunt of amusement from Gramps. “I had a lot of people who loved me and helped me believe in myself. But…what if I hadn’t had that? Who would I have become then? I might have been a weird little kid lurking in the shadows with my X-ray eyes, trying to figure out if there were any grown-ups out there that I could trust. That’s what happens when kids are let down by the people who are supposed to love them and make them feel safe.”
Understanding dawns and his expression softens. “Damn…”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“His father was a bastard,” Gramps says. “Even worse than Rodger. Don’t know much about his mother, she didn’t leave the house much, but…”
“But it’s a safe bet his home wasn’t a great place for a sensitive kid to grow up,” I say. “And he is sensitive, Gramps. The icy exterior is just a mask. Underneath, he’s kind and compassionate and…” I exhale in a rush, “and bossy and frustrating and controlling, but also sweet and generous and he loves me. He really loves me. Even when I told him it was over, he just wanted me to know that he still cared and that he always would.”
Gramps eyes begin to shine again. “If that’s who he really is. And if you love him back…”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I think it is, Gramps. And I know I do.”
“Then go to him and talk it through,” he says. “But you’d better hurry. He’s leaving this afternoon, taking his friend’s private plane back to the city. But you can probably still catch him at the airport if you don’t dawdle.”
I shake my head, knowing better than to ask how he knows that. Gramps knows everything that happens in this town. And he knows me, a fact he proves when he adds, “Skip the shower and just throw some clothes in a suitcase and go, Gert. If he loves you, he won’t mind that you’re in your pajamas. And if you really love him, you’re going to want to get on that plane.”
On impulse, I hurry across the room, hugging Gramps with my good arm, getting choked up again as he cradles me close, whispering, “As long as you’re happy, baby girl. That’s all I ever want. Make sure he treats you like the treasure you are.”
“He does, Gramps,” I whisper. “He does. I love you. I’ll text you soon. Don’t fire Mia.”