Page 81 of Stick to the Deal
The pieces fall into place as I listen.
“Anyway, my parents had been threatening to arrange my marriage for months, so the next day I stopped fighting them. Edgar and I were married soon after, and I ceased believing in love. When your mother came home and told me she loved your father, I reacted badly. In trying to protect Genevieve from rash decisions, I pushed her away and to an early death.”
She turns to me, regret clear in her tear-filled eyes. “I had nothing against your father, Nicolette, he was a very nice young man. But the life of an artist is fitful, I didn’t want to see my baby girl get hurt like I did.”
“We didn’t have much, but she was happy. The house was always full of laughter and love. I think she missed you, though.”
Her eyes shimmer like emeralds with unspent tears. She releases a deep breath and her shoulders sink into the pillows. “Thank you. I never asked because I didn’t think I deserved to know, but I always assumed the worst.”
The floodgates of my curiosity open. I want to know everything.
“Tell me about Grandpapa, I never got to meet him.”
“Edgar was a gentle man—kind and patient. It was a good marriage. Not an epic love story, but we grew to care for each other very much. More importantly, he always saw me as peer and partner and appreciated what I brought to our arrangement. Which was pretty rare those days.”
“It’s still pretty rare in our circles,” I quip.
“It’s what I wanted for you, though. A stable union based on understanding and equal footing. That’s why I put the terms in your trust, but I bumbled everything. Can you forgive me?”
At those words, the hole in my heart fills. A sense of peace descends as the full picture comes into focus. It will take a lifetime for the scars to fully heal—maybe never fully—but I no longer feel like the broken, unwanted orphan.
My eyes squeeze closed as burning tears flow before my lips quiver into a tumultuous smile. “Of course.”
I lay across my grandmother, arms wrapped around her slight frame as she cradles my head and strokes my hair. It’s new, and fragile, but I want to make the most of the time we have left.
The doctor comes back to discuss Grandmama’s plan of care. I half listen, but my mind is whirling with the truth bombs that just dropped.
She wanted to give me security for after she was gone. It was never about the things I’m not, or fitting into the society I thought she valued so highly. It was about protecting me from the pain of her youth.
A tug at my hand reclaims my attention as the physician leaves. “Where’s Reginald? I would have expected him by your side.”
“He was.” I look around, realizing he’s not back yet. “He stepped out to grab me food.”
She looks me in the eye. “Are you happy?”
“Yes, Grandmama, I am.” I can’t help the smile that splits my face.
“Good.” Her velvety hand pats mine. “That boy is lucky to have you. He better stay this madly in love with you or I’ll—well—I’ll hit him with my cane.”
A shockedlaugh escapes. “Grandmama! I believe you told me violence was never the answer when they tried to kick me out of school. Though I still say Shannon Cox had it coming.” She chuckles and squeezes my hand. “How did you know he loves me?”
“It’s quite obvious, dear. That article he wrote about the two of you was practically abillet-doux. He sent me the flyer for your exhibition.”
“You know about my show?”
“I wish I’d been there to see it in person, but I’m so proud of you. That Aurora piece is especially breathtaking. I called the gallery to buy it, but they said it’d already sold.”
“Reginald bought it—he hung it in his office at home. I’ll happily have another print made for you, though.”
“Tell me more about the showcase. I want to hear all about it.”
I pull up Henri’s web page and my online portfolio, walking Grandmama through the various pictures. She asks questions about the subjects, the trips, and my technique. A sense of pride and peace grows with each picture we discuss, our dark heads close together.
Years of tense pain and misunderstanding can’t be forgotten in a single evening, but the healing begins. A new closeness and understanding forms, which can be the basis of a completely different relationship. We may never make up for the years we’ve lost, but I’m confident we’ll make the most of the time we have left.
Chapter 42
The End
