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I hadn’t thought of that. But the more I considered it, the more sense it made. Gram probably had no idea Lucy was this torn up about the change in plans. Lucy would never tell her. She’d smile and say all the right things and keep her sadness locked up tight.

“That’s actually a really good idea,” I said.

Mom smiled. “I have them occasionally.”

I spent the rest of the visit helping her prep vegetables and listening to her talk about the Thanksgiving menu. But my mind was already working on a plan. If I could track down Gram’s contact information, maybe I could reach out. See if there was any way to make this right.

When I got home, I started digging. Lucy’s grandmother wasn’t exactly a public figure, but Lucy had mentioned her name before. Gladys. Gladys Hawthorne. I found her through a combination of social media stalking and some creative Googling. She had a Facebook page that she updated regularly with pictures of flowers and inspirational quotes. Very on brand for a grandmother.

I found a phone number through a reverse lookup service. It felt a little invasive, but I told myself it was for a good cause. I knew Gladys would know who I was. I was often sitting beside Lucy when she updated her on what country we were in. Gladys always said to tell me hi. So cold calling her wasn’t completely inappropriate.

“Hello?” The voice was slightly suspicious, the way anyone sounded when they got calls from unknown numbers.

“Hi, is this Gladys? Lucy’s grandmother?”

A pause. “Yes, this is Gladys. Who’s calling? Is Lucy okay?”

“My name is Jeremy Blackwell. I’m Lucy’s client. Well, I’m also her friend. She’s mentioned you a lot, and I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Jeremy Blackwell. Her boss? The model?”

“That’s me.”

“Lucy’s talked about you too.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice. “She says you’re very handsome but completely hopeless without her.”

I laughed despite myself. “That sounds about right.”

“What can I do for you, Jeremy?”

I took a breath. This was the tricky part. “I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving. About Lucy.”

“What about her?”

“She told me you wouldn’t be spending Thanksgiving together.”

“Yes.”

“She also told me she’s happy for you. That you found Harold and you’re spending the holiday with him. And I know she means that. Lucy’s not the type to begrudge anyone their happiness.” I paused. “But I could hear how sad she was. She tried to hide it, but it came through anyway. Lucy is ridiculously strong and I admire her, but this one hurt.”

“Oh.” The word came out softly. Almost wounded. “I didn’t realize.”

“She would never tell you. You know Lucy. She’d rather suffer in silence than make you feel guilty about living your life.”

“That girl.” Gladys’s voice had gone thick. “She’s always been like that. Even when she was little. She’d break her arm and tell me it was fine, she didn’t need to go to the hospital.”

I smiled at the image. That sounded exactly like Lucy.

“I have an idea,” I said. “And I know it might sound crazy but hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“What if you and Harold flew to LA for Thanksgiving? My family has a private plane. I could send it down to Florida to pick you up. I’ll put you up in the nicest hotel in the city. And then you could surprise Lucy. She’s coming to my family’s house for dinner. She’d get her grandmother and her traditions, and you’d still get to spend the holiday with your new man.”

The silence stretched so long I thought the call had dropped.

“You would do that?” Gladys finally asked. “For Lucy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”