Chapter 22
Baptiste
As soon as Harper and I step into the common room at Golden Age, two residents zip over to us—well, as fast as their joints allow. One of them does have a cane.
“Hello. I make some nice jewelry pieces,” the first lady brags, showing us a beaded bracelet. “Would you like to try it on?”
Harper and I share a confused glance, then she turns to the woman with a polite grin. “Oh, I’m all right, thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Maybe a recipe card?” the other asks, clutching her cane. “I was a darn good cook, and I never shared my secrets with anyone. I’ll give you a nice price for it.”
My brow furrows. “I think we’re good, but thank you?”
“I told you they didn’t care about recipes,” the first lady mumbles as we walk away.
“What was that about?” Harper whispers, glancing back at them. “That was weird, right?”
“A bit strange, yeah,” I say, scanning the room for Glenda.
She’s hunched in her usual rocking chair by the window.
When she greets us both with a smile, I feel a swell of relief.
She seems more friendly with me than the first time I met her.
Which is a good sign. I know how important her approval is to Harper, and I’ve never wanted anyone to like me as much as I want Glenda to right now.
Well, except for Harper—but I think we’re on the right path.
After a few minutes of small talk, Harper addresses the elephant in the room.
“So, what’s going on with all this?” She motions to the poker table, which seems more popular than ever.
James and Beth aren’t here today, but a large crowd is gathered around it, and it looks like there’s another game going at the other end of the room.
“This place is dang expensive, that’s what’s happening,” Glenda says, rocking a little too aggressively. “Rates have been shooting up since the beginning of the year. Even I’m noticing the hikes, and I’ve only been here for a few months.”
“What? How much?” Harper asks, her eyebrows drawn together in concern.
“A few hundred,” Glenda says.
I fold my arms over my chest. “That’s not right.”
“Yeah. This doesn’t make any sense,” Harper says, shaking her head. “Have you asked management about it?”
“Sure have. They mentioned a bunch of stuff that weren’t included anymore, and some new services they added on. I couldn’t make sense of it.”
Harper’s gaze sharpens. “Can you get me your invoices from the past few months? I’ll figure this out.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know how. It’s all electronic now.”
“I’ll look at your contract and find your invoices when I get home,” Harper says. “I might need your identification number. Do you know it?”
Glenda gives her a pointed look. “I’m eighty years old, honey. I don’t even know what I ate for lunch.”
I laugh despite myself, and Glenda just winks at me.
“I’ll go ask the secretary,” Harper says. “I’ll be right back.”
She bolts to the front desk, and I stay there with Glenda, who’s still rocking in her chair.
“She’s driven, my granddaughter,” she finally says. “She never gives up.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “I like that about her. Something we have in common, actually.”
“Good. So you’re not going to leave her heartbroken, then?”
“That’s definitely not the plan. I’m more scared of it happening the other way around, if I’m being honest,” I say with a low chuckle.
“She has broken a few hearts, but it’s nothing compared to the pain she’s endured in the name of love.”
I press my lips together. “Yeah, she told me. But I’m nothing like those other guys.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “She told you, huh?” Then, she pauses, peering out the window. “Well, if that’s the case, she must really like you. She doesn’t open up to people easily. I may be protective of her, but I like the influence you have on her.”
I manage to contain the huge grin about to break free. “You do?”
“Well, I haven’t gone completely blind yet—except at night—and I see how much she’s changed since she met you.
She smiles more, enjoys company, goes out, does things that people her age are doing.
Before you, her days were pretty predictable.
She would either be at work, at home, or with me.
Now she goes out to dinner, gets drinks with friends, and even plans a weekend at the beach?
That’s not the Harper I know. But I’m glad to see her changing.
I was always afraid she’d end up like me. ”
My chest tightens, and I stare at the tile floor, unsure what to say.
“Bitter and lonely. Reminiscing about the things I could have done. Or should have done. Spending my days staring out the window, still holding on to grudges after all this time.”
“But it’s not too late,” I say tentatively. “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean your life is over. You can still turn things around.”
She looks up at me, a deep grimace etched into her face. Then it softens, and she gives me a small smile. “I see why my granddaughter likes you.”
I’m about to ask her what she means when footsteps clack on the floor, and Harper comes jogging back.
“Well,” she says, holding a piece of paper, “I got all the information I need to access your client portal. I’ll figure out what’s going on.”
“Thank you,” Glenda says. Her gaze fixes on the swaying trees for a beat, then focuses on Harper. “Is your offer to introduce me to your friend’s grandmother still standing?”
Harper blinks rapidly. “You want me to introduce you?”
“Did I stutter?” she snaps, and I hold back a laugh.
“Why?” Harper asks, bewildered.
She shrugs. “I guess I’m not dead yet.” Her eyes fall on me pointedly. “And it’s not too late to make some changes.”
Harper’s gaze flicks between Glenda and me, realization dawning. A smile builds on her lips. “Sure, Grandma. I’ll introduce you.”
Taking advantage of a brief intermission at the poker table, we walk toward Lois, Beth’s grandma. Harper and I briefly met her the other day when Beth and James were here.
Harper explains to her, in a low voice, that her grandma is a bit lonely and has a hard time making friends. Fifteen minutes later, Glenda is sitting at the poker table, wedged between Lois and a woman named Martha.
By the time we leave, Glenda is playing her first hand—and even laughing at a joke someone made.
“Wow.” Harper steals one more glance at her grandma before we head to the exit. “I never thought this would happen. Ever.”
I just smile.
“You had something to do with it, didn’t you?
” she asks, her eyes narrowed. “I leave her alone with you for five minutes, and suddenly she wants to make friends? Do you have some kind of mysterious social power over women? Or maybe it’s just Grandma and me?
” She shakes her head with a sigh. “It’s got to be the accent. ”
I laugh, unlocking the car as I saunter to the driver’s side. “Maybe? We were just talking, and I guess she realized it wasn’t too late to make some changes.”
“Well, I’m glad,” she says, her warm eyes latching onto me. “I’m relieved to know she has people to talk to now besides me. And she likes you,” she adds, a smile teasing her lips. “You have to know, getting the Glenda seal of approval is unheard of. Literally.”
I grin as I crawl into the car. “I know. I’m a keeper. Maybe I should change my position on the ice and take Wally’s job.”
She laughs, the gentle vibrations going straight to my chest. “Yeah, yeah. You’re all right.”
She pauses, then looks at me, the hint of teasing draining from her voice. “I’m glad she likes you, though. She’s my only family.”
I nod as I settle under the weight of her words. “I’m happy too. And it’s nice that you have her so close.”
“Yeah.” She sinks into her seat as I back out of the parking spot. “Do you think about your family a lot?” she asks, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Like… siblings, grandparents?”
I shrug, hands firm on the wheel. “I used to. But I’ve made my peace with not knowing.”
“It would drive me crazy.”
I cough out a laugh. “Because you hate not having all the answers.”
She shoots me a sideways glance. “Got me all figured out, huh?”
“Yep.” I smirk.
She shrugs. “It’s just how I am. I admire you, really. It’s a huge thing to not have the answers and still go on with your life.”
“I don’t have a choice,” I say with a weak chuckle. “Whoever my family is, they didn’t want to be found. Left no notes, didn’t try to contact me growing up. Actually, I used to hate them—my mother particularly. For abandoning me. I mean, who does that?”
Her voice comes soft. “Maybe someone who doesn’t have a choice.”
I breathe a sigh. “Yeah. I understood that as I grew older. But when you’re a kid, it’s hard to accept.”
“I can only imagine. I’m glad you had a good foster family, at least.”
A warmth spreads through my chest. “Yeah. They’re a big part of why I eventually overcame all of that.” I glance at her. “Auntie Mumu wrote to me last night, by the way. They said they’d love to have us over. If you ever want to visit France.”
I can already picture us sitting in Auntie Mumu’s living room, or strolling down the streets where I grew up. I’ve never wanted to bring anyone there before, yet with Harper it feels obvious somehow.
“Um, maybe?” she says, and my heart sinks. “I’m not a big fan of flying.”
“Oh, I totally get that.” I force a smile, ignoring the gut punch I’m still reeling from.
Is it really about flying, or is it about what that trip would mean?
Glenda might think Harper is falling for me, but I’m not so sure. Sometimes, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m ten steps ahead—already picturing a future she hasn’t even considered. And I don’t know how long I can keep that up without getting hurt.