Page 62 of Never Let Go

Clearly, my grandmother was pretty bad ass. Sad and grieving, but very much in charge. The queen of her very own mausoleum. I mean, castle.

Curious about this woman who had raised my mother, I followed her into what appeared to be a TV room, and again, surprise washed over me. I’d expected to have coffee in some kind of stiff, formal lounge but this space was comfortable.

Lived in, even.

There was a little knitted blanket next to the armchair she took a seat on. The TV was on but muted and broadcasting a well-known British drama series. Priscilla sat down, covered herself in the blanket, and took a sip of the glass of water that had been standing on the coffee table next to her.

“So,” she said once she’d swallowed, those green eyes swinging back to mine. “You must be wondering why I asked you to come here today.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the sofa across from her. I leaned forward with my elbows propped on my knees. “Yeah, uh, I’m glad to be here, but I am a bit confused.”

She inclined her head, sat back in the armchair, and folded her hands on her lap. “Foster didn’t want to renovate, but it’s mine now. I think it’s time.”

My gaze dropped away from the chandeliers and the dark art on the walls to settle on hers again. “You want to renovate?”

“I do.” She motioned around the room, her eyes growing sad again, but she powered through. “Out with the old and in with the new, I say. Besides, I’ll be gone eventually and then this place will belong to you, your mother, and your brother. The last thing I want is to leave you with a house that won’t sell because it looks like it was last updated in the twenties.”

I frowned at her. “Is that why you asked me to come here today? To discuss your own estate?”

“No.” She glanced at the closed door and took a deep breath before she looked up at me. “I invited you here today because I thought coffee and cookies would be a good excuse for a nice chat.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “You just want to talk?”

She paused for a beat before she nodded. “It gets lonely here these days, and not only since your grandfather passed. This just felt like the right time to finally have one of our grandchildren here. God knows, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a child in this house. Over thirty years since even our own visited.”

“Yeah, I talked to my mom about you.”

The corners of my grandmother’s mouth turned down. “Did you happen to mention to her how sorry I am?”

“I, uh, I just told her that we spoke. I wouldn’t mind mentioning it to her, but I’m sure she’d rather hear it from you.”

A faraway look crept into her eyes and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Has she told you that we used to be close, her and I?”

“Uh, no? Not really, but I got the sense that it was hard for her to talk about it.”

A sad smile lifted the corners of her lips again as she refocused on me. “It’s not easy for me either. We’ve both made our mistakes, but it’s true. We used to be so close. When she was little, she was my best friend and I was hers. We did everything together.”

“Wow.” My heart broke a little just imagining it.

Mom and I were close, and so were she and Porter. If we were all suddenly just out of each other’s lives, it would fucking suck. “I’m sure she misses you.”

My grandmother let out a quiet, long breath and shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that anymore, but I do miss her. Your grandfather used to travel a lot when your mom was growing up, and whenever he wasn’t home, it was just her and I. Sometimes when I walk past her room, I still peek in to check on her and it hits me all over again that she hasn’t been home in half a lifetime.”

My head lowered slowly to one side. Pity and sympathy mingled in the center of my soul. “That’s horrible.”

She chuckled. “I see you’re just as honest as she has always been, and yes. It is horrible.”

“So why didn’t you do something about it?” I asked without even trying to stop myself. “I mean, I get that your husband had a problem with her, but you obviously didn’t. Why didn’t you see her away from the house or come visit us at our place?”

“I should have,” she conceded without hesitating at all. “Unfortunately, I’m only realizing now that he’s gone how big my many mistakes were. At the time, I thought the most important thing I could do was to support my husband.”

“What about your daughter?”

Her eyes grew watery as she stared at me, looking almost hopeless as she lifted one of her narrow shoulders in a shrug. “I should’ve supported her, but Foster was proud. I really thought that eventually, he would miss her too and we would reach out to her, but it just never happened.”

“All because of his pride?” I scoffed, not wanting to make her feel even worse than she clearly already was. “All this pain was caused by nothing more than that? No offense, but that seems ridiculous to me.”

“I don’t blame you, but I’m glad to see that you’re not the same way. From where I’m sitting, your mother did an excellent job raising you not to fall into that particular trap.”