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“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, it’s fine.” I blink back unshed tears.
“I really do just want what’s best for you and for him.”
“I know you do, but you also need to learn to trust that I know what that is. No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, no matter how far I’ve come, you’re still looking over my shoulder waiting for me to repeat her mistakes.”
“Your mother wasn’t always that person. When your father left…” She trails off before adding, “People change.”
“I’m not weak like her. I’m not selfish. I know the kind of person my mother is. Trust me when I say, I will never be like her.”
“I know you won’t, honey.”
“Do you? I mean, do you really?”
“Of course, I do.” She reaches out, taking my hand in hers.
“Then you need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay.” She finally concedes. “I’m sorry I overstepped.”
“I know you mean well,” I say, feeling guilty for being so harsh with her.
“You two mean the world to me.”
“I know we do.”
“I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”
“I’m a big girl, Gran. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. Sometimes I forget that you’re not a child anymore.”
“Mama.” I hear Jack before I have a chance to respond. I turn to see him kicking his legs into the back of the seat, clearly growing restless.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say, turning back to my grandma.
“Of course.” She gives me a soft smile, offering Jack a wave as I climb into the driver’s seat and roll my window down.
“I’ll see you Monday then?” she asks as I start the car and pop it into reverse.
“Yes.” I nod.
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Love you, Nana,” Jack calls from the backseat.
“I love you too, my sweet boy,” she calls through the window at him.
One more small wave and I’m pulling out of the driveway, anxious to get the hell away from this entire situation and all the swirling questions it has left me with.
“Hey, you okay? You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Ant leans against the counter next to the stove where I’m currently making spaghetti.
“Yeah, fine.” I keep my eyes focused on the boiling pasta, still unable to shake the uneasy feeling the conversation with my grandma left me with.
“You sure, because you don’t seem fine.”
