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Grams sat back in her chair, hands in her lap. “I always liked your mother, dear, but she’s not a strong woman. Not like you. She tries, but she doesn’t have the stoicism to manage most of life’sslings and arrows of outrageous fortune, to quote the Bard.”
I couldn’t argue with her there. Catharine had a sensitive nature, which wasn’t a bad thing. But it made life hard on her. She had shut down when my father died, and had left me to fend on my own, emotionally. At five years old, I had taught myself to pretend that I was all right. And that was how I managed until I met Rian and he opened up my softer side. But when he died, it hit me so hard that I had ricocheted, spiraling into trauma, and it felt like I was still fighting to claw my way out of that abyss.
“What are you thinking about?” Grams asked. “You have the most peculiar look on your face.”
I thought for a moment before answering her. “I wish I’d been more middle of the road when Rian died. He exposed my vulnerable side, and I let him. I couldn’t hide how much I loved him and I wanted the world to know how happy we were. But, I also lost that resilience that guided me through my father’s death. When Rian died, I tumbled…” Trying to distract myself from my thoughts, I said, “What would you like for lunch? I can make omelets or sandwiches and soup. What would you like?”
Grams didn’t try to steer the conversation around again. She said, “Sandwiches and soup will be fine.”
As I fixed roast beef sandwiches and vegetable soup for lunch, Grams brought out her tablet and engaged Fancypants in a game of online chess. He proved more than a match for her, which startled all of us. By the time lunch was ready, he had won the first game.
“Okay, put the game aside. Lunch is ready.” I set the tray of sandwiches in the center, then set out bread-and-butter plates, two regular soup bowls and a small crystal ramekin that would serve as a bowl for Fancypants. I ladled out the soup and then asked, “What do you want to drink, Grams?”
“Do you have lemonade?” she asked.
I poured two glasses, handing one to her. “Always. It’s one of my favorite drinks.”
As we ate, I realized that I was running out of things to say. I had no clue what to talk about, except for my father’s life. Or magic, of course, since she was a powerful witch, known through the great Witch Houses back in the UK.
“So,” she said, after finishing half a sandwich. “I imagine you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, yes. I am. The last time you came to visit was when my father died.” I wondered whether to tell her that I resented never getting to know her before this. I didn’t resenther, exactly, but the circumstances and distance that kept us apart.
“I don’t travel well, to be honest. But I came here because of you, my dear.”
“Me?”
“Remember, in my note I said that trauma can skew the powers in our family in all sorts of unwelcome ways?” She picked up another half-sandwich and bit into it. “These are delicious.”
“Thanks. And yes, I remember. I wasn’t sure what you meant.”
“I’m here to explain. Over the past year, since I found out what happened to you, I thought and meditated about it, and I made a decision.”
I waited, as she took another bite of her sandwich. “Yes? What did you decide?”
“I’m moving to the States so I can be near you.”
Boom.
“I’ve bought a house in Port Townsend. I’m staying with your mother until my furniture arrives from Scotland, then I’ll settle in.”
Boom.The shoe dropped, indeed!
Her words reverberating in my mind, I silently reached for another sandwich as the thoughts fluttered down to fully form themselves in my mind.
My great-grandmother was moving all the way from Scotland to live nearby. My great-grandmother wanted to keep an eye on me. My great-grandmother was going to make my mother’s life a living hell, most likely. That made me both want to grimace and laugh. Catharine was no match for Grams, yet the interaction might do her a great deal of good. Grams was strong and she could teach my mother a trick or two. At the same time, she was going to probably needle my mother to distraction.
And what about you?
The thought intruded and I cleared my throat. That was a good question.What about me? How often is she planning on visiting? How often will she wander in and complain about my lifestyle?From the little I’d seen of her so far, Grams was perfectly capable of sweeping in and disregarding anybody who challenged her.What if she decides she doesn’t like the way I live?All these thoughts ran through my head as I sat there.
Fancypants must have noticed my silence, because he went fluttered his wings and loudly asked, “Lady Morgance—may I call you that?”
“Of course, you may, Sir Fancypants.” Grams’s eyes twinkled.
“Thank you. Then, Lady Morgance, can you tell me how you find the town? Do you like it here?”
I silently blessed the dragonette and took a deep breath, trying to process the information. My great-grandmother was the matriarch of the MacPherson clan and that wasn’t going to change just because she was changing countries.
