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“Have a little respect,” Dante told her, voice low and mean. “What would my grandmother think about you talking like that at her funeral? For shame. And the red shoes are perfect. You of all people should remember how much Gram loved red.”
I lowered my head and started wringing my hands. The day had gone from bad to worse.
Dante defending me was perhaps the most cruel thing he could do. More than anything else, it made me remember why I’d been so devoted to him for most of my life. Reminded me of a time when I had absolute faith in him.
Made me almost forgot that all of that had only set me up for a more brutal fall.
“Oh, well,” Grandma derisively bit back, “you’re carrying on with this one again? Didn’t he dump you?” she asked me. “Like trash,” she added. “Didn’t you marry Leann’s girl?” she asked Dante. “I always told you he’d break your heart,” she told me.
This was typical. She lobbed out hurtful things like steady grenades until one hit its mark, and she never stopped before something vital was damaged.
Story of my childhood.
I began to walk away as Dante answered. “No and no. And I know what you’re doing, Glenda. You’re lashing out because she cut off all contact with you. Maybe if you’d try to be less awful to her, she’d give you a ring every once in a while.”
I didn’t hear my grandmother’s response because I’d picked up my pace.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
PAST
“I hate my name,” I complained one day to Gram when I was over for tea. My name was just one thing on a very long list that the kids at school teased me about, but I’d decided to take particular exception to it because that day I’d overheard some girls chanting Scarlett harlot when they thought I couldn’t hear.
So I’d come to rant about it to Gram. She was the only grownup I knew that I could say anything to, tell anything to, and she took it all in stride.
This though for some reason seemed to take her aback.
Her hand went to her chest and she blinked at me several times before responding, “You do?”
I looked away. I couldn’t maintain eye contact with her when she appeared so . . . wounded.
I shrugged, not so sure about my outburst now. “I guess so,” I muttered.
“Want to know something absolutely fascinating about your name?”
My eyes went back to her as I nodded.
“A very famous woman named you that. She named you that because scarlet is a brilliant, brave, and daring color. You see, she knew you’d have an interesting life where those qualities would serve you well.”
“You named me?” I breathed.
She smiled and nodded. “I did. Glenda was . . . overwhelmed when she first got you and so I took over for a while. I named you because I felt strongly about it, and she didn’t mind. I always had a talent for naming, if I do say so myself. Do you want to know who else I named?” she glanced over at Dante as she asked the question, and I found my eyes following hers.
He was in his usual spot on the sofa across the room, just lying there listening to us, occasionally piping in to add to or argue with what we were saying. He sat up now and looked at Gram.
“Who?” I asked, though I saw what she was hinting at.
“Dante. Don’t those names sound just wonderful together? Scarlett and Dante. They have a romantic ring when you combine them, don’t they?”
Dante and I were just looking at each other.
“Did you know that she named us?” I asked him.
He smiled and laid back down. “I did, but I thought you’d enjoy the story more coming from her.”
CHAPTER
