Chapter 7
ALEX
I somehow made it through the initial meeting with the contractor even though I had a hard time concentrating after that kiss.
I made plans to meet with the man again the next morning, then hightailed it across the river separating Ido from Swynton.
I’d promised Char I’d be back to watch the girls before she left for her part-time job at the country club.
Spending time with my nieces would be the perfect opportunity to prove I wanted to pitch in and help while I was in town.
I cranked the wheel to turn into the driveway but stopped short when I noticed a van already taking the spot.
A decal on the side read ANGEL HANDS NURSING HOME.
The name rang a bell. Wasn’t that the one where Gramps had been staying?
My breath hitched as I thought about what that might mean. According to Char, Angel Hands was just about their last resort. If Gramps had been kicked out of one of the last places willing to take him, how would that affect Char?
I swallowed hard. How would that affect me? I’d been more than willing to contribute a little dough here and there to smooth things over and keep my grandfather in care. But if the old man kept pissing people off, where would he go?
The front door opened and a short guy in blue scrubs scurried out. A lamp sailed through the door behind him, followed by Gramps. “Get out and stay out.”
I’d barely made it out of the truck when the van screeched to a halt beside me before grinding into gear and taking off down the street.
What the hell was going on? I turned toward the door where my grandfather leaned against the doorway.
Char stood next to him, her hand wrapped around his arm, tugging him back into the house.
I hadn’t laid eyes on my grandfather in years.
Not since my dad died and I’d dropped out of college, loaded my backpack, and cashed out my savings account for a one-way plane ticket to Oslo.
Gramps had frowned and told me I needed to stick around.
I’d grinned back at the older man and kept right on packing.
I’d promised myself then that I’d never come back, wouldn’t let the people who were supposed to love me the most be the weight that dragged me down.
Somehow, I remembered my grandfather being taller, more intimidating. Not like the stooped, scowling stranger who glared at me as I walked up the drive.
“Alex, thank goodness you’re back. I’ve got to leave for my shift. Jordan can pretty much handle the other girls, but . . .” Her gaze bounced back and forth between me and Gramps.
“Hey, Gramps.” I thrust my hand forward.
The old man grunted and turned away, shuffling toward the easy chair Char kept in the corner of the living room.
“The nursing home brought him over. He can’t stay there anymore.” Char twisted her hands together. “What are we going to do?”
I took in a deep breath through my nose. “You go to work. Gramps and I probably ought to have a heart-to-heart.”
“What good will that do?” Char whispered.
“I’ll just explain to him, guy to guy, that he needs to step up and hold himself in check. He can’t expect you to put everything on hold and take care of him, not with everything else you’ve got on your plate.”
She shoved her hands to her hips. “You think I haven’t tried that before? Ever since Nana died, he’s been unbearable. He keeps saying he wants to go home, but he can’t stay out at the ranch all by himself.”
I smiled as I thought about my grandmother. She was tough—never let me get away with anything—but she was also the only one who’d ever been full of hugs and smiles and fresh-baked cookies. What would Nana do if she were here?
“You go get ready for work. Gramps and I will clean up this mess, get some fresh air, and see if we can sort something out.” I nodded to myself, confident I’d be able to get Gramps to see things my way.
Char rolled her eyes before she disappeared down the hallway.
I glanced out to the sidewalk, where the lamp had shattered into a bazillion pieces, and then wandered into the kitchen in search of a broom and dustpan. My niece Frankie sat at the table dipping her baby carrots into the jar of grape jelly, the damn bird sitting on her shoulder.
“Hey, Frankie, where’s your mom keep the broom?”
She sucked the jelly off the carrot in her hand and then dipped it back into the jar. So much for no double-dipping. I kept having to remind myself I wasn’t living the bachelor life anymore. At least not while I was bunking up with my sister and her kids.
“Frankie?”
She didn’t respond, just kept dipping the same carrot into the jar and sucking all the jelly off.
“She can’t hear you.” Dolly, my youngest niece, teetered into the kitchen in her plastic heels, a feather boa wrapped around her neck. “Frankie got her headphones on.” She lifted a gloved hand to point at her sister.
I squatted down to meet Dolly at eye level. “Thanks, sweetie. Can you tell me where your mama keeps the broom?”
Dolly shuffled to the narrow space between the fridge and the wall. “In there.”
“And the dustpan?” I asked.
“We don’t got no dustpan. Jordan broke it.”
No dustpan. I could improvise. Spotting an oversized piece of thick paper on the counter, I reached for it. “Come on, Gramps. We’re going outside to clean up your mess.”
The old man didn’t budge, just sat in the chair in the corner, unblinking as some kid show played across the screen. I leaned over and pushed the power button. The ten-year-old, Izzy, groaned. “Uncle Alex, I was watching that.”
“Sorry, kiddo. Gramps was too invested. Now come on, let’s get that broken glass cleaned up before one of the girls gets hurt.”
That must have done it. Gramps hefted himself out of the chair and made his way to the front door.
I kept one eye on my grandfather and one on Dolly to make sure she didn’t follow us out onto the driveway. “What were you thinking?”
Gramps tugged his Dallas Cowboys hat lower over his eyes. “Wasn’t thinking at all. You try living in a place where they don’t let you have any privacy. Not a bit. Probably got cameras watching me twenty-four seven.”
Best to humor the old man. At least he’d gotten his butt up out of the chair. “Probably, Gramps.”
I began to sweep the shattered ceramic pieces of the lamp base into a pile while Gramps stood nearby.
By the time I picked the bigger pieces out of the grass, Gramps had taken a seat on the bench Char had sitting on the concrete porch.
I bent down, trying to use the piece of paper I’d picked up as a dustpan.
After several trips back and forth from the giant metal garbage can Char kept on the side of the house, I was done. “Thanks for the help, Gramps. You want to take a turn around the block and get some fresh air?”
Gramps gazed up at me and then dropped his head.
“I’ve got to go in and wash up. You’ll be all right out here for a few minutes?”
“I’m old, not incompetent,” Gramps said.
I let out a chuckle. I wasn’t cut out for the job of humoring Gramps back into line, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d taken on something beyond my ability or way above my pay grade.
As I reentered the house, I felt like I’d walked in on World War III, Sanders-style. Izzy stood in the kitchen wailing with Char in front of her.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“She lost her report. It was right here on the counter and now it’s gone.” Char turned toward her daughter. “No more excuses. If you don’t get that turned in tomorrow, you’ll get another red tag, and you know what that means.”
Izzy turned to me, her eyes brimming with tears. “Uncle Alex, did you see my report?”
My heart plummeted to my feet. “What did it look like?”
She held her arms out. “It was about this big.”
“Was it white?”
Her head bobbed up and down.
With a sinking feeling drowning all hopes of a peaceful night, I summoned a brave grin. “Looks like you and I are going to be making a trip to the store after dinner.