“She's only keeping me in the wedding because she doesn't want Dad to know there's trouble between us.”
“It’s not sustainable. You two can't pretend forever.”
“And I can't let on with Dad. It would kill him. So pretend, I must.”
“Luke and I were talking about it today. We agreed it's not fair to your father to tell him. You don't really have any way of knowing whether it's true or not, anyway.”
“You talked to Luke about it?”
“We had lunch. I needed a break and we've been meaning to get together. Plus, he wanted my opinion on the groomsmen gifts he was looking at.”
I reclaimed the box and started main-lining the crackers again. Amy hated me while Luke and Eamon were having the bromance of the century. None of this was fair. “I thought you were writing. You're supposed to be writing. It's December and you're supposed to go into the studio in January to record. Don't you have a meeting with your record label in a week?”
“Will you stop nagging me about my songs? We're not talking about me right now, anyway.” He snatched the box of crackers from my clutches, closed it, and plunked it on the end table out of my reach. “You’ve got to stop being so self-destructive. You need to funnel this negativity into something positive.”
“Like what? Honey mustard pretzel bites?” I waited for a laugh, but it never came.
“I was thinking your mother's necklace. Have you thought about what you're going to do to get it?”
Yet another damning detail in my life. “I left a message for my grandmother yesterday. She never called me back.”
“Maybe call the nurse you spoke to? Maybe she can help.”
On any other day, I would've admired his optimism, but it felt pointless. Still, I supposed I had to try. This was my best chance at redemption. “Do you think it's too late to call?”
Eamon shrugged. “Not sure. Most places would have nurses working around the clock. If nothing else, you could leave a message.”
“Right. Good. I'll do that.” I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and looked up the number for the nursing home, which I'd saved in my notes. When the automated system answered, I didn't know which extension to dial, so I hit ‘O’ instead.
“It's a beautiful day at Shady Pines. How may I direct your call?”
“Oh. Hello. I'm the granddaughter of one of your residents. I was hoping to speak to one of the nurses. Beverly?”
“I’m sorry, but Beverly has gone home for the day. Would you like to leave a message?”
I sighed. “Yes, please.” I gave her my info, prayed that Beverly would care enough to call me back, and hung up. "Had to leave a message."
“So I heard.”
Fiona flitted into the room. “Katherine, will you read to me tonight?”
Eamon pulled her into a hug. “Katherine's not having the best night, love. Will I do?”
“But Dad. You don't do the voices like she does.”
"People love my voice. People pay money to hear my voice."
Fiona rolled her eyes and settled on his lap. I snuggled up next to him. This was one of my favorite things about having her stay at the apartment—when it was just the three of us, I could feel the love in the room. It was better than crackers or wine. That was for sure.
“I would love to read to you,” I said, getting up from the couch. “It's one of the best parts of my day.”
Eamon grinned and I knew what he was thinking. I needed to stop being such a pessimist. Some things, like reading bedtime stories to Fiona, were perfect. Everything else would get worked out. It had to.
A short forty-eight hours later,Beverly hadn’t called me back yet, and the day of Amy and Luke’s couple’s shower-slash-cocktail party had arrived. "I'm dreading this," I said to Eamon. It didn't matter how ridiculously handsome he looked wearing dark-as-midnight jeans, a charcoal suit coat with a subtle black windowpane, and a white dress shirt. That wasn't going to improve my mood.
“Maybe she'll see you and things will be okay. Hard to be angry with someone when they're in front of your face.”
“She had no problem being angry to my face the other day.” I stepped into my dress and turned my back to him so he could zip me up. He had this habit of standing super close to me when he did it, with his hips a whisper's distance from my ass and his breath warming my neck. I could admit it—I purposely picked clothes with zippers I couldn't do on my own. The experience was sublime.
