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"You're not crazy," Drew said quietly.
She patted his leg. "You're a sweet boy to lie to me, but I know I'm losing my mind. I wish it wasn't so, but I can't seem to stop it. The doctor says it's going to be worse on Patrick than on me. I'm not going to know when I'm out of it, but he will. That's what I hate the most. I don't want to think about him looking at me like I'm a stranger, even if that's how I'm looking at him. That man is the love of my life, and I'm his. I never thought we might end up not knowing each other."
"Grandpa is a strong man. And he loves you," Drew said with a fierce note in his voice. "He'll help you through this, and you'll never be a stranger to him, Grandma."
"Time is so fleeting, Drew. You think it's going too slowly at times. I remember when I was a young mother, and I was stuck at home with six babies. I was changing diapers every other minute and helping kids with multiplication problems and breaking up fights over the last Oreo cookie, and I used to think—will they ever grow up? Will it ever get easier? And then one day, I looked around, and everyone was gone. The house was so quiet. Some days I'd give anything to go back to those loud, noisy, exhausting years."
"If you want loud noise, you know where to find it, Grandma," Drew said. "You're always welcome at our house."
She smiled. "Even your house is getting quiet now. And that little Brandon; he's such a gentle soul, but so lost. I worry about Nicole. She thinks she can pull off a miracle, but I don't know if that's possible. We seem to be in short supply of miracles these days. Although, I'd give up my mind if it would mean Brandon could get his back."
"My nephew has autism," Drew said to Ria. "He was diagnosed when he was three; he's six now."
She nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that." The Callaways might be a big, loving and close family, but they still had their problems.
"Nicole reminds me of myself," Eleanor said. She paused for a moment, the sparkle in her eyes growing dim. "I know what it's like to worry about your child. I remember when Jack came home with a bloody nose, two black eyes and a broken hand. I wanted to kill the guys who had hurt my boy."
Drew's brows knit together. "When did Dad get beat up?"
She gave him a startled look. "What did you say?"
"I asked when Dad got beat up," he repeated.
"Your dad? Jack?" she asked in confusion.
Drew nodded. "Yes, Jack. When did he get hurt?"
"I'm not supposed to talk about it." Panic entered her voice. "Patrick says we must never talk about that day. It's dangerous. If Patrick doesn't do what they say, then next time it's going to be worse. It won't just be a warning. Someone is going to die."
"What?" Drew asked sharply.
Eleanor grabbed Drew's arm. "I told him to go to the police, but he says he can't. He says I don’t understand. You won't let anything happen to Jack, will you?"
"I won't," he said.
"Do you promise?"
"I promise."
Drew shot Ria a pained look, and her heart went out to him. She'd never seen anyone go from perfect clarity to confused fear.
"Can I get you some water, Grandma?" Drew asked.
She blinked a few times and then said. "What did you say?"
"Would you like something to drink?"
"No, I'm fine. Tell me how you and your friend met," she said, glancing over at Ria, then back at Drew. "Was it love at first sight?"
Ria was curious to hear Drew's reply, and she had to admit to being a little amused by how his grandmother's question had shaken him up. Drew had her off balance the last two days. Now he was the one who had to find his feet.
As he searched for an answer, Ria decided to help. "Was it love at first sight, Drew?"
He gave her a wry smile. "Was it for you?"
"I think your grandmother asked you the question."
He glanced back at his grandmother, who also seemed amused and back in perfect control of her senses. "You're trying to get me into trouble, aren't you?"
"You've never brought a girl to meet me. I'm curious."
"I like her," he said. "A lot," he added, turning his gaze on Ria. "And I think she feels the same way. Don't you, Ria?"
