“Good boy,” Nana said to herself.
“You do somethin’ while he was gone he can’t get over?” Grandpa asked, clearly the next logical explanation in his mind.
“No,” I said, mildly insulted. “Nothing like that.”
“Well, then, what is it?” he asked. “You’ve loved that boy for years. He clearly loves you. Simple math here, sweetheart.”
“It’s not always that simple,” I retorted.
“It is unless you’re lookin’ for a reason for it not to be.”
“He says he’d do it again, Grandpa,” I said, leaning forward on my elbows. “That he’d go to prison again if it meant that he was protecting me.”
Grandpa stared at me uncomprehendingly.
“That’s a bad thing,” Nana said from her place at the stove. The words were almost a question, but not quite.
Grandpa’s phone timer went off.
“Be right back,” he said, heaving himself off the seat. “Shouldn’t have sat my ass down.”
“Is he okay?” I asked Nana after he’d left the RV.
“He’s just old, honey,” she said with a chuckle. “Standing up takes a little doing these days.”
I didn’t like to think about my grandparents getting older, especially when we didn’t see them as often as I liked. I wondered if they’d settle in somewhere eventually, hopefully somewhere near Eugene where I could drive to visit.
“Ten more minutes,” Grandpa said as he climbed the stairs again. “Now, back to what you were sayin.’ It’s a bad thing that he wants to protect ya?” he sounded completely confused.
“Yes, it’s a bad thing,” I replied in exasperation.
“You’re gonna have to break it down for me, darlin’,” Grandpa said, leaning his hip against the back of the kitchen bench seat. “Because I wouldn’t want a man anywhere near ya that didn’t feel that way.”
“I don’t want some self sacrificing bullshit,” I said angrily. “Love me enough to stay out of trouble, how about that? Control yourself enough to stay out of trouble. Maybe have my back, but let me figure shit out on my own?”
“Huh,” he said, reaching up to rub his jaw. He looked at Nana, who shrugged like she had no idea what to say.
“What?” I asked. “Spit it out.”
“Any man raised right is gonna be willin’ to step into the gates of hell and fight off the devil for his woman and kids,” Grandpa said, his voice low. “Not sure what to tell ya if ya think that’s a bad thing.”
“Not sure where you learned it was a bad thing,” Nana added. “Your grandpa and Dad are those types of men.”
“My mom—”
Grandpa raised his hand to stop me. “Please do not try and compare a man’s choice to protect his family and a sick woman’s psychosis. That’s doin’ a disservice to both.”
“You don’t see the similarities—”
“I do not,” Grandpa said firmly. “And you shouldn’t either, Kara. Your mama was sick and she didn’t have the help she needed. Her death didn’t have anythin’ to do with sacrificin’ to keep her family safe. She killed herself because she was sick, honey.”
“I don’t want Draco to go back to prison for me,” I said, frustration making my voice crack.
“Why do you think he will, Kara?” Nana asked curiously.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Because I told him about how terrible high school was for me. Those same guys who had passed my photos around back then hassled me for two more years.”
“The hell you say,” my Grandpa replied angrily.
“It was terrifying to go to school every day just wondering if they’d stop with the innuendos and finally do something,” I said, staring at the table. “And they’d be easy enough to find now. So, what, Draco just beats all of them up? How will that change anything except to get him into trouble and leave me alone for four more years?”
“Okay,” Nana said, taking the skillet off the stove. “We’ll get into the fact that you never told anyone you were having problems in a minute.” She came and sat across from me. “You told Draco that?”
“Yes,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“And did he run out and start looking for those boys?”
“No,” I replied.
“So, he didn’t go off half-cocked looking to bash some heads in?”
“No,” I replied. I knew where she was going with this.
“Then why do you think he would?”
“Just because he didn’t then, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t the next time we saw one of them in the grocery store or something,” I shot back. I was getting so sick of having to defend how I felt, especially to my own grandparents. Weren’t they supposed to be on my side?
“You’re paintin’ him with a brush you bought when you were fifteen years old,” Grandpa said. “He was what, sixteen or seventeen when he beat up that boy? He’s grown up since then, the same way you have. He given you any indication that he can’t control his temper?”
I thought back to the night before in the bar, the way he’d stared down that prick Jayden Parker. He’d put his hand on my shoulder to reassure me, but he hadn’t been aggressive. He’d been watchful. Protective, but cool as a cucumber.