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I tilt my head side to side. “That’s not really her job.”
“What’s her job then, huh?”
“Check your vitals. Make sure you’re still alive. That sort of thing.”
“She can help me get changed. Mary’s nice.”
I sigh, but don’t argue. Mary the home nurseisnice, but he shouldn’t test her boundaries. “You hungry?”
He shrugs like it’s no big thing. “I could eat.”
Which means he’s starving but didn’t have the energy to cook breakfast.
Guilt flashes into me again. How can I leave Grandpop alone for an extended period of time? With Mary only coming every other day, and then only for a couple hours?
“I’ll make you something.” I head into the kitchen, feeling like shit, rethinking this entire situation.
Grandpop won’t be okay without me here. But if I turn Lanzo down, I won’t make any money, and if I don’t make any money—
There’s no good option. Everything’s fucked. I want to help Grandpop, and in the long run, getting this cash is the best thing for him. Once I have the three million, I’ll hire a nurse full-time if I have to. I won’t ever need to leave again. We’ll live off savings for as long as we can.
For as long as he has left.
I shiver at the thought. Tears fill my eyes, but I shove them away. No time to cry now.
“Nice place.”
I jump, yelping, whirling around with my spatula raised high. Lanzo’s standing in the kitchen door, smirking at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss at him. “We said you’d stay in the truck.” I glance toward the living room. I don’t want Grandpop to find Lanzo in here—I have no clue how I’d explain him.
“Got bored. Where’s your Grandpop?”
“Stop it,” I say, waving him off as he pokes around the kitchen. I smack his shoulder hard with the spatula, which makes him laugh. “Get out of here, you idiot. I don’t want Grandpop to see you.”
“Renny?” Grandpop shouts from the other room. “You okay? Are you talking to someone?” He coughs hard. I glare at Lanzo. That was his fault.
“All good, just talking to myself,” I call back then flip on the radio.
“Renny?” Lanzo’s eyebrows work up and down. “I like that. Very cute.”
“If you call me that name, I swear I will cut your throat in your sleep.” I jab the spatula at him like a knife. “Listen to me, you maniac. I’m going to cook Grandpop something to eat, then I’ll pack, then we’ll go. Okay?”
“Sure, that works.” He leans against the counter. “Is he going to be fine without you here?”
I hesitate, scrambling the eggs with a righteous fury. I hate him for asking that question, since it’s the one thing I’ve been worrying about since coming inside.
“I’ll figure something out,” I say at last.
“I can advance you some money.” He glances at me, expression neutral, like he’s purposefully putting on a poker fake. “If you want to hire someone to watch him while we’re busy.”
I close my eyes and the tears break through.
“Ah, shit,” I say, plating the eggs. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What’d I do wrong?” he asks, looking bewildered.
“Nothing, okay? You just said the exact right thing and I really fucking hate you for it.”
