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“I loved Grandpa,” Sophie interjected.
But Grandma Agatha hardly heard her. She’d fallen into a world of memories.
The sound of footsteps came down the hallway. Recognizing the gait, Sophie straightened her spine just as Katrina breezed through the open door.
“Good morning, everyone.” There was a question in her voice. “How are we today?” She bent to kiss Grandma Agatha on the cheek and then turned to pat Patrick first and Sophie on the shoulder.
“I don’t know why everyone’s kept Sophie’s wedding a secret from me,” Grandma Agatha said, her eyes accusatory. “Do you think I’m too old to handle it?”
Katrina stuttered. “I assumed she would tell you herself!”
“And I did,” Sophie said, her adrenaline spiking.
“Because I’m not too old,” Grandma Agatha said as though she hadn’t heard. “In fact, I think we should have the wedding at my house. You know as well as anyone how perfect the dining room is for such an occasion. Katrina, I’d like you to contact a wedding planner at once and show her the space. If Sophie is really getting married again, we need to send her off right.”
Sophie’s stomach dropped. Sensing her nerves, Patrick reached over and took her hand.
Katrina’s shoulders dropped. She sat without fanfare in the plastic chair next to Patrick, clasped her hands, and said, “Mom, we can’t have the wedding at your house.”
Grandma Agatha chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can say what happens in my house. I brought you there after giving birth at this very hospital, Katrina Whittaker.”
Katrina pressed her lips together. Sophie had the sudden urge to jump up and run as quickly as she could away from here. Patrick looked trapped.
“Mom, the doctor said you can’t go back home to live,” Katrina said delicately.
“What? That’s ridiculous,” Agatha said, waving her hand. “Bring him in here immediately. I’ll set the record straight.”
Katrina didn’t twitch. Very quietly, she said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home. Not by yourself. Not in such a big place.”
Grandma Agatha’s cheeks were gray. Slowly, she returned her hands to her lap and gaped at Katrina as though she’d never seen her before. “That house can’t just stand empty and alone.”
“It won’t,” Katrina said. “We’re going to sell it.”
Grandma Agatha’s eyes were slits. “Nobody told you that you could do that, Katrina Whittaker.”
“My name is Coleman, Mom,” Katrina returned coldly.
“My soulmate bought that house,” Grandma Agatha shot back.
Katrina’s face was stiff with sorrow and confusion.
“Why don’t you go do something useful?” Agatha demanded. “I need some water.”
Katrina jumped up, grabbed Grandma Agatha’s cup, and disappeared in the hallway. Before she knew what she was doing, Sophie followed after her. “Mom!”
Katrina stalled in the center of the hallway and leaned against the wall. Her shoulders shook. Around them, nurses rushed to and fro, accustomed to seeing people break down in the middle of the hospital. It was just another day.
“Mom, I’m sorry about that,” Sophie said, touching her mother’s back.
Katrina turned to face Sophie. Her eyes were blotchy. “She’ll never listen to me,” she said. “She’ll never respect me.”
It was a rare moment of honesty between Katrina and Sophie. Sophie swallowed.
“I know. It’s awful,” Sophie breathed.
Katrina blinked back tears and continued to look at Sophie. It seemed like she was waiting for Sophie to save the day—for once.
“I mean, we don’t have to sell it immediately?” Sophie said in a meek voice.
