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She really didn’t want to sit on the furniture, but she sank onto a couch that looked like someone had died on it. The fabric had more stains than the pattern could hide.
“How is your grandmother? I think of her every day,” he said, his voice wistful.
“She’s doing well,” she told him and wondered what had happened between the two of them.
“I miss her and your mother. Those were such good times with all of us living together,” he sighed. “I really screwed things up.”
This was what she wanted to hear.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I came to a wedding this past weekend, and I decided before I left to try to find out what happened. Why did we have to move? I loved living on the Sweet B, and I was so sad when we left so abruptly,” she said, her heart swelling with pain.
Her grandfather hung his head. “It was my fault. Ronald Thomas believed I was having an affair with his wife. Lillian, I never cheated on your grandmother. Never. I loved her too much. But Ron was a terrible husband, and he often beat his wife. One afternoon, I helped her when she was broken down on the side of the road. Who would have thought that a simple car problem would change my life forever.”
Lillian sat staring at him as he shook his head, tears welled in his eyes.
“Barbara was doing her best to get home in time to cook Ron’s supper. He would beat the crap out of her if she was late getting dinner on the table. So I helped her put the groceries in my truck and then took her to their house. I never went inside the house but handed her the groceries at the door. He came home unexpectedly and saw my truck. That night he beat the shit out of her enough so that she had to go to the ER. I didn’t hear about this until later.”
His face crumpled as he shook his head.
“On Tuesdays, a group of us got together and played poker. It was a friendly game between friends. We’d drink a little beer and play cards. That night, Ron managed to get into the game. I never drank so much that I was drunk because I knew I had to drive home, and your grandmother would kick me out if I were drunk.”
His hands clenched together, and she stared at him, her heart beating rapidly. Finally, she was going to learn the truth.
“That night, I had one beer, and I was so drunk, I couldn’t even stand. I was betting way more money than I had and losing so badly. It’s hard to remember exactly what happened because I couldn’t focus. I lost to Ron so badly that I finally was in the hole twenty thousand dollars. Not having the cash on me, I signed a piece of paper that I thought said I was putting the ranch up for a twenty thousand dollar loan, but Ron wrote that I actually signed the deed over to him. The deed to the ranch that I loved with all my heart. That I would never have given up.”
Closing his eyes, he took some deep breaths.
“The next morning, Ron showed up at the ranch with the sheriff and wanted us all out of the house as soon as possible.”
The memory of the law coming to the door came rushing back, and she remembered shouting and her mother sending her upstairs.
“Your grandmother, Kenneth, your mother, everyone was so angry at me for what I’d done. Ron told your grandmother I had cheated on her with his wife. That never happened. I thought I was signing a piece of paper putting the ranch up as collateral for a loan. I’m a good man, and I was going to pay my debt to the scalawag. The sheriff took his side, and I’ve often wondered if he had been paid off. Why would he force us out so quickly? We had twenty-four hours to vacate the premises.”
His shoulders slumped, and he stared out the window.
“Because of being a nice person and helping someone in need, I lost everything. Your grandmother, the ranch, and most of all, my dignity. It’s been a hard twenty years.”
Stunned, she stared at him, wondering if his story was correct. Was this the truth, or was Ron’s version of the truth the real one?
“Why didn’t you fight for the ranch?”
“I didn’t have the money,” he said, his dull eyes gazing at her. “I wanted to, but I needed to use what money we had to find you a place to live. You were not going to live on the streets. Your grandmother would not listen to me, and she was so angry. I kept telling her to speak to Barbara, but she refused. It really hurt that she took their side and believed the worst about me. All I was trying to do was be a good man.”
For a second, she sat there, letting all the information sink in, and then her lawyer brain kicked in.
“Grandpa, I’m a lawyer,” she said. “Do you still have the note you signed? May I see it?”
“You’re a lawyer?” A big grin spread across his face. “Will you help me?”
“Of course, I will,” she said. “But first, I need to see what you signed. Who else was with you that night?”
He listed off three names and then he included a woman’s name. “Priscilla Jones. She was the waitress serving us drinks. She now owns the bar where we used to play.”
Standing, he shuffled into the kitchen and brought back a small fireproof safe. “It’s in here. Now, what did I do with the key.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an inhaler, and she gazed at him. She didn’t remember him using an inhaler before.
