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I nodded my head and pulled my hand away.
“You were such a beautiful bride,” she added.
I started counting to three inside my head.
“But you know what?” she said.
One. Two. Three. Repeat.
“I just never could really see you with him to begin with.”
She shook her head, eyes soft. She reached out and picked up my hand again.
“Have you met someone new?” she asked.
And I stopped counting and laughed.
* * *
“Come and have a cup of tea with me,” my grandmother said.
I stood in the doorway to her room. I could hear my mother downstairs banging pots around in the kitchen. Dad was talking softly to her.
“OK, Nan,” I said and sat down beside her on her small sofa.
The sun shone in her window, painting the pale pinks and greens and blues on her prized rug in dappled colours. Her gnarled old hands gripped mine too tightly.
“How are you doing, darling?” she asked.
“I’m good, Nan. How are you?”
“Oh, you know. I keep busy. Writing to all of my friends back in England.” She nodded toward the ancient typewriter which stood pride of place on her writing desk. “Although,” she added, “there’s not too many of them left, now.”
“That’s no good,” I said, gripping her hand in return a little too tightly.
“When you get to my age, Kylee, you see things a little differently.”
I held my breath.
Her rheumy old eyes met mine. My fingers felt cold in her hands.
“You’ve been through enough, now, darling,” she said.
“Nan?”
“Quite enough, I should think. It’s time to live.”
* * *
Ipulled into Starbucks in the bay, needing a refuel in more ways than one. I’d just picked up my venti non-fat, caramel macchiato with no whip and turned from the counter when Neal walked in.
He was in uniform.
I was just grateful he wasn’t with Jody.
“Hey,” he said. “Fancy seeing you back here.”
“Old habits,” I said softly.
