“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 doorsnicksclosed 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.”
