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Grandma Marie shook her head but didn’t say anything more. She watched me pace the kitchen, watched as I knocked pans off the stove, plates off the counter.
My rage consumed me. I shook the fridge, punched the wall. I was pissed the fuck off and I hated that she’d waited so long to tell me.
It wasn’t even Flex that I was worried most about. No. That’s just what I wanted her to think. Truthfully, it was the fact that she said she didn’t have long to live.
I knew it. We both knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.
In my mind, Grandma Marie was still the sweet, healthy woman that made me banana pancakes and eggs every Sunday morning. She was the woman that took care of me after I lost Mom.
I pulled at the roots of my hair, plopping down in my chair, breathing raggedly through my nostrils. Looking up, I peered at Grandma Marie who only watched me with wet, defeated eyes.
She had no more strength to argue—no more fight within her. She only had one choice, and she chose letting Flex take care of everything after she was gone rather than allowing me to suffer through it.
She knew I would never accept his help. I was sure they had the payments already arranged. Fuck that. I wouldn’t take any of his money. I would move out of the home I grew up in before I let his bitch-ass help me.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
She rubbed my hand. “You will be okay, sweetie. You have made it this far, right?” She reached forward to stroke my cheek.
“With your help,” I muttered, glancing up.
“No. You’ve been a greater help than you think, Drake.” Grandma Marie lifted both brows, a smile playing on her lips. “So… who is Jenny?” she questioned.
I sat up straight, my eyebrows pulling together. “What?”
“You heard me. Jenny?” She laughed lightly. “I saw her name pop up on your phone screen when I woke up.” I began to protest yet again until she held up a hand to stop me from talking. “Don’t worry, I didn’t check your phone, but I saw her name. I’ve been seeing it a lot lately. Hearing it from the twins. Makes me wonder…”
“Wonder what?” I asked, suddenly uneasy. I shifted in my seat, looking away. It wasn’t Grandma Marie that was making me feel this way. It was the thought of Jenny.
The swirling I felt in the pit of my belly, the way my chest tightened, my cock pulsing in my sweats from the mere thought of her.
“You like her?”
“No,” I responded quickly.
“You are such a terrible liar.”
I straightened my back a little more, finally looking away from her. “She’s just a friend.”
“You know, I remember you telling me about a girl named Jenny when you were in fifth grade. I remember because it was the happiest I’d seen you since Sam passed away. You said she was nice to you, unlike the other kids in your class. That she let you swing with her and that she even stood up for you. I remember it because you couldn’t stop talking about it. You even asked if she could come over one weekend, but I told you it was a bad idea. You really liked that girl.”
“That… was a different Jenny.”
She laughed again. “I’m sure you don’t know that many Jenny’s in Fox River.”
“I’ve had lots of girlfriends, Grandma.” That was a lie. I’d only had two, but technically they weren’t really girlfriends. I just let them believe they were so I could get easy pussy.
“All named Jenny?” She grinned.
I waved a hand, pushing out of my chair. “No. It’s not like that,” I said, picking up a few of the pots and pans I knocked down. I set everything on the counter and then grabbed a bowl from the cabinet above. I placed it on the counter, dumping the sugared corn flakes into it. “She’s just really persistent and I don’t want to hurt her feelings so—”
“Since when do you care about not hurting anyone’s feelings?” I glimpsed back and she was still smiling. I fought a laugh, taking out the jug of milk.
I turned for my chair again, sticking my spoon in the bowl. “Just know it’s not like that. I have more important things to worry about now than some girl from grade school. Like your health and the bills.”
“Yeah,” she breathed, standing. I started to help her up but, as always, she shooed my hand away, going for the exit of the kitchen. “You keep telling yourself that, but from what I was hearing you say in your sleep, this Jenny girl is much more to you than just some friend. You care about her, and you can pretend that you don’t, but you’ll only be hurting yourself in the end.”
