Chapter 31
Rami's POV
The scratch of my pencil on paper echoes through my small bedroom as I frantically scribble out the last of my math homework. The only sound in the otherwise silent space. A pen would be quieter, but I don’t care what anyone thinks; doing math in pen is sacrilegious.
“Rami?” Grandma Julia’s soft voice precedes a delicate knock on my closed bedroom door.
“Come in,” I answer.
The faint creak of the old hinges announces her entrance, but I don’t look up from my work. She waits patiently until I set down my pencil and meet her gaze.
“I was going to run to the store. I’d appreciate some company if you’re done with your work.”
“Okay. I just have to upload my work and hit submit,” I say, doing just that.
With my phone in hand, I make sure to get clear pictures and post them to the assignment. My finger pauses over the submit button on my laptop as I look over my shoulder to see her still standing there. Her brows rise and she meets my stare a few times making me think she has more to say.
“Ten minutes?” I throw out, hoping to break whatever is holding her here awkwardly.
Grandma Julia dips her chin and turns without saying another word. She’s been rather quiet, almost distant, since she brought me home from the police station. So, I’m not exactly sure where we stand.
No reprimand.
No shouting.
No accusations.
Nothing.
It should be a breath of fresh air, but it honestly leaves me waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The door snicks closed behind her, but there’s no sound of the lock clicking into place. In fact, she hasn’t locked the door once since I’ve been back. I know because I woke up in the middle of the night to check. Sure enough, I can come and go as I please.
I still haven’t been able to figure out why she put the lockable doorknob in place if she’s not going to use it.
Turning in the last of my homework, I shut everything down and lean back in my desk chair.
Why would I agree to go? She sounded more open to the idea of me not going.
I could have easily lied and said I was still working.
Especially since she normally never gives me an option, requiring me to go to help carry things and reach the top shelf.
If I stay, her leaving would be the perfect opportunity to escape back to the man I love.
Wait, what?
Did I say love?
That can’t be what this is. I barely know him.
Though I can’t deny the butterflies that erupt in my stomach at the thought of it.
Shooting upright from my chair, I’m prepared to tell her to get her own damn groceries. However, when I find her in the front room, I hesitate. In her hands is an old photo album. One I know has pictures of my mother as a child.
“All done?” she asks, clearing her throat.
Ready to tell her no, I stand up a smidge taller. But those blue eyes meet mine. The lamplight catches the sparkle in the corner of her eye, and I can’t make the words pass my lips. Instead, I say, “Yes, ma’am.”
As she closes the book and sets it to the side, she wipes at the tear.
For the first time, she suddenly feels like my grandmother.
I wonder if I should check on her, but decide it’s none of my business.
If her rough exterior is starting to crack, maybe I can beg for my freedom by showing her I’m willing to play by her rules.
Sitting on the bench by the side door, my shoulders are rounded. The picture of defeat in compliance. But in all actuality, I’m hating this.
Adriel needs me.
Something deep in my bones is telling me that he needs me.
The jingling of Grandma Julia’s approach distracts me from fully delving into how I could possibly know that.
Instead, I allow her slow driving and the familiar sights to numb me the rest of the way.
So by the time we’re wandering through the grocery store, everything feels more like a quiet hum inside my head.
Standing by the cart in the meat department, I stare off into space while she compares prices and mumbles possible meal ideas.
Giggling in another aisle draws my attention to two older women talking louder than they realize.
“I heard his mother got him addicted before he was even born. Poor thing didn’t even have a chance.”
“My grandson told me he had one of his friends pinned against a wall and kissed him without his permission. Probably would have tried to become intimate with him if they didn’t fight him off.”
“Oh, those boys are so strong. Such good boys.”
“My neighbor saw him get arrested the other day after the storm passed.”
“Arrested? For what?”
“Rami?”
My grandmother’s soft voice draws me away from their conversation. Blinking rapidly, it’s then that I realize that tears have formed along my lower lashes. Words from complete strangers should mean nothing to me, and yet, I can’t deny how it affects me.
“Rami.”
This time, she wraps her warm hand around my biceps to get my full attention.
I stare into those wise blue eyes, which causes a single tear to run down my cheek.
Her face remains neutral, making me wonder if she either didn’t hear those women or simply doesn’t care.
That makes a second tear fall. I quickly wipe them away and clear my throat to pull myself together.
“I completely forgot to get the ice cream. Would you mind going back and getting it for me?”
I dip my chin and turn quickly to do as I’m told.
My eyes dart around the freezer aisle, trying to decide what brand and flavor to get.
Grabbing the cherry ice cream in a brand I’ve seen her get before, I walk quickly back to her.
She hates dilly-dallying around, claiming there’s always something to be done.
By the time I get back to her, she’s in the same spot I left her. I hold up the ice cream for her inspection. A beaming smile curls up her face, and she nods so I put it into the cart.
“Excellent choice,” she says in approval.
The compliment causes me to trip over the cart wheel, catching me off guard. I manage to pull myself together fast enough, my chest poking out a bit more. The joy is hard to deny with what I can only assume is a dopey grin curled up on my face.
I slide into position at her side to continue shopping.
The two older ladies from earlier round a corner into another aisle.
They both look up to watch Grandma Julia closely.
Their faces are red, and they look away and move faster when they notice I’m watching them.
Curiously, I glance over at my grandmother, who manages to school the glare on her face in the blink of an eye.
Did she defend me to those old bitties?
That’s absurd. Right?
But something tells me that’s exactly what she did. Pride blossoms in my chest like a warm blanket wrapped tightly around me.
The remainder of the shopping trip feels more like I’m walking on air.
My focus fully on my grandmother, and picking up the harsh warning stares she gives anyone who glances in my direction.
It feels almost as if a curtain has been pulled back to reveal true colors for the first time. And I’m basking in that sunlight.
After loading the car and bringing everything inside, I stick close to her like a magnet. She doesn’t even react to my proximity, simply works around me and puts me to work. That’s if I don’t step in and do it without prompting.
She slides me the bowl of cheesecake filling to finish whisking while she presses the graham cracker crust into the pan. A coy smirk tugs at her lips, so I copy it. It feels nice. Comfortable, even, being around her.
We work in that companionable silence while it bakes, and she makes the strawberry topping. And when she approves for me to remove it from the oven, I get to work on handwashing all the dishes and wiping down the kitchen.
Eventually she wanders off into the front room where I hear the familiar creak of her rocking chair and her rustling through her knitting bag.
The amicable day leaves me feeling lighter than I have since coming here. The domesticity of it has kept a smile plastered to my face. And I find I like it.
Something is definitely different with her. Whether that’s either me that’s changed or her. But if I’m ever going to get to Adriel, I need to put on my big boy pants and step up. Perhaps she’ll listen this time.
Because the man I love needs me.