Page 114 of Bearly Hanging On

“There were more people than I expected,” I replied, stacking the plates in the dishwasher. “Because you neglected to mention that you’d invited Mum.”

“Because you two are so stubborn,” Nanna shot back.

“Because she keeps trying to make up for lost time.” I shoved a pod into the slot of the dishwasher, then stabbed at the button, starting the cycle. “She cares more about my life now than she ever did when I was a kid.”

“And why’s that?” Nanna paused, tea towel in hand, her gaze steady. “Why is that, Harper?”

“Because she’s a meddling control freak that thinks that she can make up for lost time by being over the top now?”

Nanna shook her head.

“Because she’s always loved you, but it was only when she settled down with Peter that she was able to see that she was never the kind of mother she wanted to be. She has endured some terrible experiences. She did run through a truly disastrous string of boyfriends, dealing with the trauma of each breakup by finding someone even worse. That’s stopped now, thankfully.” Nanna rubbed at her brow. “But it’s either collapse under the weight of that guilt, or try to make amends.”

For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic chug of the washing machine, but I could never let that stand. Istraightened up, then walked over to the kitchen cupboards, pulling down bowls and setting them up on the kitchen counter.

“By saying sorry and meaning it.” I said that to the bowls, not daring to meet my grandmother’s eyes. “By acknowledging how she fucked up?—”

“Harper…”

My eyes rolled up as I frowned slightly.

“What else would you call it? It was unfortunate when Barry punched a hole in the wall?” My tone was rising, but then I heard laughter from the dining room, forcing me to moderate it. “That Leslie was just misunderstood when he stood over me, screaming?”

“No, that was fucked.” My eyebrows shot up at the sound of my grandmother swearing, but she just waved that away. “You think you’re the only one that throws curse words around? Please. Growing up on a farm?—”

“You had to be tough.”

We both smiled as we said that at the same time.

“We all have had to be.” Nanna nodded at the doorway. “But I think you’ll have a chance to be a little softer with those three in your life.”

“Does that mean you approve of my mates?” I said, hip checking her gently.

“I approve of any men who look at my granddaughter the way they do you. The bear said he’d never even had a girlfriend before you.”

“Kieran,” I corrected, pulling out ice cream from her freezer. “And none of them had.”

“So they don’t know any better,” Nanna cackled. “That will help them put up with the insanity that seems to follow you everywhere.” She pulled the apple pie from the over, using the tea towel as oven mitts. “So you really killed that idiot that was trying to kill you and your friends?”

“Bet you never thought that would happen when you taught me how to use Great Granddad’s army rifle,” I replied.

“I wanted you to be safe,” she said, pausing after sliding the pie onto the cooktop. “I wanted you to be able to protect yourself, but most of all…” She glanced over her shoulder. “I wanted you to never need to, because that’s the hard thing about giving birth to a daughter.”

Her hands went to her hips.

“When you’re holding that tiny little pink bundle of perfection, watching her tiny little lips purse, you know exactly what challenges she’s going to have to deal with, the bullshit she’ll have to endure. Because you’ve had to put up with all of it. But your daughter…?” She shook her head slowly. “You want more for her, better and you’re ready to fight the world to ensure that happens…” I wondered what Nanna was seeing as she stared into my eyes. “Only to fail over and over again.” She picked up a knife and waved it at me. “You’ll discover that for yourself if you have a daughter.”

“Me, a mother?” I snorted, unable to wrap my mind around the idea. “Can you imagine?”

“I can.” Uh oh, Nanna had the same determined look in her eyes that she had when she first urged me to date my mates. “Those males of yours, they’ll be good fathers.”

“Nanna—!”

“And you’ll be a brilliant mother, my Harper, now…” She started to slice the pie up. “Help me dish this up and explain to me which are the desserts and which are the savoury ones. I don’t know what any of these things are.” My grandmother opened a container and sniffed appreciatively. “It smells very good, though.”

I just stood there, trying to process what she had said. That earned me a dark look, then a flick of her tea towel, telling me gruffly to get a move on. A mother? Sometimes it felt like Iwasn’t competent enough to be trusted with sharp objects, let alone a child. So why did I see a little girl with a halo of dark hair running through the kitchen, only to wrap her arms around her great grandmother’s legs?

With a blink, I shook my head and then started dishing up the desserts.

---