Page 37 of Silent Heart

His words were bitter. I reeled, reaching for the wall to brace myself. “Excuseme?”

That prickly, wrinkled lip curled with disgust. “All you can talk about is running away. So go. The door’s open.”

With that, Grandpa ripped the door open and walked outside. Grandma hurried over to close it, giving me a pat as she walked by.

“He’s hurting, Har. Best let him be this morning, okay?” She gave me a squeeze.

He wasn’t the only one. I rubbed my chest.

I was going to be ten minutes late at this point, but that was worth it not to follow him. I couldn’t take anymore feeling bad about choosing me. I followed my grandma to the kitchen, where she was in the process of making lunches. Her movements were stiff and disjointed. As if her body was tired. I hoped she wasn’t sore.

The fridge squeaked in protest as I tugged the door open. I grabbed a small, red wheel of cheese and tugged the wax off.

“Did you want me to pack you a lunch? You didn’t have a chance to last night,” Grandma offered, her voice sweet and warm.

I pinned her with a look. “I’m thirty-four! For crying out loud, I’m not some kid! I know what I want, is that so hard for him to understand?”

Grandma sighed and threw the dishtowel over her shoulder. “To Rodger, you’ll always be the little thing in pigtails that we were blessed with in our twilight years, Harley.”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I bit into the cheese. “He doesn’t treat the boys that way.”

“They don’t sneak into the house after being out all night when one of his oldest friends—who attends Redeemer with us, I might add—comes over for a business meeting.”

It didn’t seem like he was actually mad about the out all night part. I pinched my nose, trying and failing to take calming breaths. “How bad is it, Grandma?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she murmured, reaching under the counter for a crockery bowl. It was green and had been used by her mother. As she straightened, her face pinched in concern.

I saw it then, an elderly woman who refused to acknowledge big changes were coming. She would fight to her last breath to keep everything the same. The next decade, while holding great promise for my own goals, was going to destroy them one way or another.

“How much, Grandma?” I insisted.

“Harley,” she tsked.

“Would ten grand cover it?” I held my breath.

“Posh, child, we’re not that destitute. We have a savings for just such an occasion. You’re going to need every cent for next year. We might not be able to help you financially, but we don’t want your dreams to suffer because you spent all your hard-earned money.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she patted my hand. “We’ll be fine,” she added.

I wished I could believe her.

***

My eyes swept over the boats tethered to the docks as I parked the Passat around back. I groaned aloud.

What now?

As if the frantic text message that we were down staff tonight wasn’t bad enough, now I couldn’t just jump into the flow of the dinner rush. I hurried inside, tied on my apron, and punched into the computer system.

“Rodger’s at the bar,” a flushed Angelica breathed as she brought dirty dishes to the dish pit.

I gave the bartender a tight look. “How busy is it already?”

“We’re going to be slaughtered!” she sang out, not bothering to wash her hands before diving back into the chaos.

Ah, gross.I laughed under my breath. Just another display of food industry hygiene. I was one of the few servers who always washed, even if I was busy. Most of the others didn’t bother.

I hurried to my grandfather, deciding to get that out of the way so it wouldn’t interrupt the flow once I started tending tables.

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