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“Yeah,” he said looking down at it sadly.
I looked around. “Is this your grandmother’s library?”
Every wall was filled with old hard-cover books. The only place that wasn’t was the window that overlooked the driveway and the woods beyond it.
“Yep. This was where she worked.”
“What did your grandmother do for work?”
“She was an author. She was pretty famous.”
“Did she write any of these books?”
“A few of them,” Lou said looking around but not making a move to show me which ones.
“Are you okay?” I asked approaching the chair and pushing my fingers through his hair. He rested his head on the headrest and closed his eyes enjoying it.
“This is all a lot, you know? I can’t believe she’s gone. I hadn’t called her in weeks. I should have but I couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t be here.”
“I get it. I can’t imagine a time when my mother wouldn’t be here. Just thinking about being without her…” I stopped when it became harder to breathe. “Have you found out what she passed away from yet?”
“Yeah. My mother says old age, but I wouldn’t put it past my family if they killed her.”
“Come on. Don’t say that. They might not be as warm and cuddly as they should be, but they’re not that bad.”
Lou looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “You’ve met them. What about them tells you that they wouldn’t be capable of something like that?”
“Because no matter how bad they are, they managed to raise someone like you. And you are pretty great.”
Lou stared at me. He didn’t smile but the pain in his eyes diminished.
“I miss my grandmother,” he said sincerely.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I told him before he got up and slipped into my arms.
I held him for a while. Afterward, we returned to the bedroom and lay silently on the bed. When it was time for dinner, he looked at what I was wearing.
“You didn’t bring anything more formal, did you?”
I looked down at my jeans, flannel, and t-shirt.
“You didn’t say that I should.”
“Because you didn’t have to. You don’t have to impress any of them,” he told me as if he were telling himself.
“Should I button my shirt and tuck it in?”
“If you want,” he said convincing me that I should. “When my family stays here they forget what century we’re in. They have outdated views on how we should dress for dinner.”
“Are you gonna change?”
Lou looked down at his jeans and what I always thought of as a dress shirt. He was torn.
“If you wanna dress up, don’t let me stop you. You’re the one who will have to deal with them if you don’t.”
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he admitted.
“They already think of me as the service man. How much worse can think of me than that? Lou, wear what makes you feel comfortable.”
