Page 41 of Never Let Go

“It does now, doesn’t it? It didn’t seem so bad when it was happening.” She sighed. “Neither of us thought this feud would outlast anyone’s life, but it dragged on and on. Before we knew it, we were old and you were grown, and we still didn’t know you.”

I didn’t know how I felt about her explanation, but she sounded like she was telling the truth. Her voice was soft and honest, sincerity ringing from it clear as a bell. It didn’t matter that I thought it was bullshit that he forbade her from speaking to her own daughter and grandkids. The truth was that he had and that she’d obeyed him.

I sighed. “Okay. Thanks for calling, Mrs.—”

“Priscilla, please,” she said softly. “You could also call me Grandma, but I guess that ship has sailed. Could I give you one piece of advice before I let you go, Foster?”

“Uh, okay?”

I heard her inhale deeply. “Don’t be like your grandfather. Don’t let this money he left you change who you are. That’s what all this was about, you know. The money. The fact that we had it and your father didn’t. The irony of it all is that when I met your grandfather, he wasn’t like that. That only happened later, after his own father passed away. Don’t let the same thing happen to you.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Thanks.”

“Alright. Well, good night, Foster.”

“Good night… Priscilla.” I’d dug deep for the word grandma there, but it had gotten stuck on my tongue. Honestly, even as a kid I hadn’t known what to call her. That hadn’t changed.

After she’d hung up, I frowned at my phone and then called Porter, quickly telling him about the conversation I’d just had. Once I was done, he let out a low whistle under his breath. “Holy shit. It took her twenty-five years just to tell you that?”

“Yeah, I guess she figured she had to wait until he was dead. It’s pretty heartbreaking, really. You should’ve heard her voice, man. It wasn’t an easy thing for her to say.”

“It hasn’t been an easy thing for Mom to live with either,” he said, always fast to leap to Mom’s defense.

“Look, I get it, okay. I’m just passing on the message. I don’t know how I feel about any of it either, but I promised her I’d convey her apologies. I’ve done that now.”

My brother exhaled heavily. “Are you going to forgive her?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably. She’s just an old lady now, Porter. The only thing she did wrong was to do what her husband told her. It couldn’t have been an easy decision to cut ties with your own kid on your husband’s say-so. Should she have done things differently? I don’t know, but I do feel sorry for her.”

“I think you just answered my question, then,” he said slowly. “You are going to forgive her.”

“Yeah, I think I might,” I mused, thinking out loud. “I’ll talk to Mom about all this, but I don’t know. It may be worth our while to get to know Priscilla. She is our grandmother and it’s not too late just yet.”

“You might be right, but I don’t know. Let me think about this, okay?”

“Sure thing. I’ll be doing the same.”

“Yeah, okay. Good night.”

“Night, Porter.”

I tossed the phone down next to me after he hung up, realizing that the game on TV had heated up and I’d missed them scoring a bunch of points without even realizing it. My beer had also gone warm, but I drank it anyway, trying to find that same mellowness from before, but it kept evading me.

I had a feeling it was going to stay like that until I’d wrapped my head around the conversation I’d just had. Ultimately, I had to admit that I was happy she’d reached out, and in time, Porter would be too. Growing up, our mother had told us so much about her mom and we’d both always wanted to know her.

Now, we had a chance to do just that and it felt pretty good. Especially because it meant we might be able to give our mother the one thing all of mine and Porter’s money combined couldn’t buy—her own mother back.

20

SHELBY

For my third date with Tyler, the company was mixing things up a little. We were going blind dancing, and when I’d first received the email asking if I’d be willing to give one of their new business partners a try, I’d nearly fallen out of my seat.

Blind dancing seemed like a sure way to snap an ankle, but in the end, I’d agreed. It meant I’d be pressed up against Tyler’s body for the whole hour we’d be together. That was a definite win in my book.

We’d also be having food and drinks, but it would all be happening in a dancing studio that had apparently recently joined as one of Sight Unseen’s affiliates. When I arrived at the studio, I was met at the front entrance by a stunning, dark-haired man who grinned at me and stuck out his hand.

“Ms. Ripple? I’m Ricardo. I’m going to be your instructor this evening.”