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He began asking me similar questions to the ones Margaret had asked when we made sandwiches. I answered every single one with a smile and asked him questions too. I found out that my grandparents were high school sweethearts and he’d fought in the Vietnam War. Once the war was brought up, he began telling different stories from his time in the war. Trace listened intently, his mouth hanging open in wonder.
I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, but suddenly Margaret was home again, carrying in three large pizzas.
“I wasn’t sure what you and Trace would like,” she explained. “So, I got a bit of everything.”
“Trace will eat anything,” I laughed, grabbing a plate.
“Like most men,” she squeezed my arm lightly as she passed by me to grab drinking glasses from the cabinet.
Dinner was much more relaxed than lunch had been. The newness of the situation had worn off and we were beginning to talk like w
e’d known one another forever.
By the time we cleaned up from dinner and said goodbye to Dex, I was exhausted and ready for bed.
I had taken a shower this morning before we left the hotel, so I didn’t bother with one now. I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. Margaret had been kind enough to let us use their washer and dryer so Trace had taken our dirty clothes to the laundry room, muttering that he hoped they had, “Mountain Spring fabric softener.” It was his favorite and he complained that his clothes didn’t smell right if he used anything else. He was crazy, but if it meant he washed the clothes and I didn’t have to bother with them, I’d let him have his quirks.
He returned a few minutes later, stripping down to his boxers, and climbing into the bed beside me. It was a full size bed, so once he was in it I ended up sprawled on his chest.
He tucked my head under his neck and began to hum under his breath. I was beginning to drift off to sleep when he asked, “Are you mad at me?”
I sat up abruptly, banging my head against the underside of his chin. “Ow!” We both exclaimed.
Rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head, I replied, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Well, I did track down your biological grandparents without telling you,” he smiled sheepishly, “and planned a whole road trip around it.”
Lying back down, I said, “I couldn’t be mad at you if I wanted to. I understand why you did it and I understand why you kept it a secret. I was surprised, that’s for sure. But thanks to you, I know my grandparents and my uncle now. I can’t thank you enough for that. They’re my…”
“Family?” He supplied.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I didn’t know what I was missing out on until I met them.”
Tears leaked from my eyes onto the bare skin of his chest. “Olivia,” he murmured my name, “please, don’t cry.”
“They’re happy tears, Trace. I promise.” I reached up to wipe them away.
“I guess those are okay, then,” he chuckled.
“I’m so happy I have you,” I mumbled as I fought the sleepiness threatening to take over my body.
“I’m the lucky one,” he whispered and it was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.
“I closed the shop so we’d have all day together,” Margaret announced when I stepped into the kitchen.
“Thank you, grandma,” I smiled widely, excited at the prospect of getting to know her and my grandpa even more today.
She burst into tears, sobbing, “You called me grandma! Doug! Doug! Did you hear that? Olivia called me grandma!”
My eyes widened and I backed into Trace’s chest. His hands snaked out to grab me and keep me from falling. I hadn’t expected me calling her grandma to cause such a reaction. If I’d known, I probably wouldn’t have said it.
“Um…” I paused, unsure of what to say. Did I apologize? Or hug her? Or run the other way? Running seemed like a good option at this point.
“I’m sorry,” she fanned her face. “I didn’t expect you to call me grandma.”
“I don’t have to,” I mumbled, growing red in the face from embarrassment.
She scurried across the room and stopped in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “No, I want you to.”
