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I blinked at her.

“Lucy and I put him in the back of my station wagon. Drove to the river, rolled him into the water. I called the sheriff the next day and told him my husband went drinking and never came home. They found him a few weeks later. Called it an accident. They thought he probably fell off a bridge or something.”

I was in shock. “Grandma . . . ,” I breathed.

“Feels good to tell someone,” she said, closing her eyes.

I licked my lips. “It’s okay,” I said. “Get it off your chest.”

She opened her eyes again. “Oh, it’s not on my chest. I’d do it all over again. He’d have killed me. No, the whole point in me telling you this story is to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again. Never ignored a red flag or excused bad behavior. I asked for what I wanted, and I protected those I loved, and I demanded the things I needed, and I had a beautiful life. Got seventy more years of living because I decided not to lay down and die that day when some weak man who deserved a dick guillotine made the choice to hurt me.” She held my gaze for a long, meaningful moment. “Take responsibility for your own unhappiness, Holly. If you don’t love your life, change it.”

It was like the words took all that she had left. She lay back against her pillow and closed her eyes. Then she went eerily still.

My heart started to pound. “Grandma?” I shook her gently. “Grandma, wake up,” I said, panicking. “Please. I can’t have your last words contain the phrase ‘dick guillotine.’”

She chuckled weakly to herself, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re gonna have so many people waiting for you in heaven one day, beautiful girl,” she said quietly. “I’ll be the first one in line.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “I love you,” I whispered.

She didn’t whisper it back. She’d said all she ever would.

She passed the next morning surrounded by everyone she loved.

John

CHAPTER 10

The white Honda had the nurse bobblehead on the dash when I got to Frank’s two days after I met the woman with the jade bracelet in the courtyard. It was holding a little Thank You sign through the window. There was also a succulent on the back right tire with a card.

To the Worst Wingman Ever, Thank you for your kindness over these last few days. You will never know how much it was needed. I hope both sides of your pillow are always cold, and your cell phone is always charged, and your brother always delivers his own Valentine’s Day cards (and sex coupons).

I’d like to leave you with some parting words of wisdom that someone recently gifted me. I very much needed to hear this. Maybe you do too.

“Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.”

I hope you love your life. But if you don’t . . .

—H

I laughed a little to myself when I was done reading it. I did need to hear it.

And I never saw that car there again.

Holly

CHAPTER 11

Jillian and I were at the funeral, standing over Grandma’s coffin, peering down at her.

It had been a week since we lost her.

She looked peaceful. Her hands were folded delicately in her lap, and she was wearing purple, her favorite color.

I’d been through a kaleidoscope of emotions over the last seven days.

I’d debated who to tell about Grandma’s confession, or if I should tell anyone at all. In the end I decided Mom didn’t need to remember her mother that way. She would have too many questions, and she’d go to Lucy for them, and I didn’t want to put my aunt through it. I had to talk to someone about it, and Jillian would never tell a soul, so I told her.