Chapter 7: Grandma

I went back to my parents' house that same afternoon, and I took Beatrice's driver with me.

It was their thirtieth anniversary lunch.

Forty guests sat at long tables on the back lawn under white tents, with Delaney in the middle of them, telling the story of her tragic heartbreak.

I knew about the lunch because my mother had been planning it for a year.

I knew about my grandmother because my mother had said "Grandma stays with us" without even turning her head.

I walked straight across the lawn in my work shoes.

Forty heads turned.

"Clara!" my mother said, in her party voice. "What a surprise. You should have called."

"I'm not staying," I said. "I came for Grandma."

"She's sleeping."

"Then I'll carry her."

"Don't be dramatic," my father said. "Sit down and have some salmon. We'll discuss it after the toasts."

I walked past him into the house.

My grandmother's room was at the back, behind the laundry.

It had one small window and no heat vent, because my father had closed it two winters ago to save money.

She lay in the narrow bed with a blanket pulled up to her chin, and she was awake.

Her hair was clean.

That was the only thing in the room that was.

The sheet under her had not been changed in days, and I knew it before I pulled the blanket back.

She had a sore on her hip the size of my palm.

I stood with my hand on the blanket, and for a moment I couldn't move.

"Took you long enough," Grandma said.

Her voice was thin.

Her eyes were sharp and wet, and she was smiling.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hush. You're here. Get me out of this house before your mother brings the cake."

I wrapped her in the quilt from my old bed.

Keep reading free with an account. Start I Can Hear My Paralyzed Billionaire Husband's Thoughts from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.