“It wasn’t you. He didn’t want a ready-made family and she was selfish enough to let go of the best thing in her life.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if the cold had frozen his brain cells.
“How could you know?” I asked.
“She calls.” That news shut me up. “She isn’t as happy as you think she is.”
“And that’s all you’re going to tell me.”
He sighed. “Isn’t my story to tell. But we’ve all heard the quote ‘the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.’”
“I don’t give a shit. She isn’t worth the ink on my birth certificate.”
Dad might have said something more if a tear-streaked Jolene hadn’t walked in.NineJolene“You think I’m interested in her? You don’t have to worry about that.”
His words rang clear as I hadn’t moved far enough from the door. Old insecurities of my self-worth crept in as I felt the prick of tears.
I wanted to believe my emotions had gotten away from me due to fear for my grandmother. But that wasn’t it, was it? Damn Tripp. I’d been smug thinking I’d bagged the untouchable bad boy, yet I was the one left with egg on my face.
“Hello.” The voice was familiar and unfamiliar.
For a fraction of a second, I almost said the D word. Instead, I said, “Christian.”
I wasn’t sure if he heard me or if I’d lost the connection because it took him a beat longer to answer.
“Jo.”
“Yes, it’s me,” I answered.
“Thank God. I—You’re okay?”
Was he about to say he was worried?
“Yes. I’m stuck in…” I glanced around and almost went to go ask when I remembered the conversation I’d overhead. “I’m in Clinestown, Maryland. There’s a storm. We can’t fly out. How’s Grandmother?”
It almost felt weird saying Grandmother and not Gran. But at the same time, it suited her. She was a regal woman with glossy silver hair and the sharp mind of a CEO.
“She has pneumonia and everything they’re doing isn’t working. I don’t mean to scare you.”
I’d unconsciously covered my mouth as a burst of pain filled my chest. I had to remove it to speak.
“No. I’d rather know the truth,” I admitted.
“The truth is, the doctors aren’t sure she’s going to make it.”
A pained gasp escaped me.
“Can I speak to her?” I asked before I realized my mistake.
“I’m sorry, Jo. She can barely speak.”
“Can I see her?”
“Fine. I’ll call you right back.”
I agreed to dead air and waited a beat. And another to the point I lifted the phone high in the air as I walked to the picture windows, hoping I hadn’t lost the signal.
Then it rang. I accepted the video call and my father filled the screen. My friends had called him hot more than once, and as one of the richest men in the United States, he had his fair share of press. But to me he was Christian.
“Here she is,” he said, moving toward my poor grandmother who looked as white as the bleached sheets she lay helplessly on in a hospital bed.
“Jo,” she whispered.
I tried to hide the despair I felt with a wooden smile that was brittle at best from the thumb view of myself in the corner of the screen.
“Don’t talk. I love you and I’m going to get there somehow.”
“I love you,” she croaked before gasping in a coughing fit that set off alarms.
Suddenly, the screen yanked away, and my father moved further back into the room until it got quieter.
“What’s happening?” I cried.
“Have you been watching the news?”
“No, why?”
The news was rather depressing. I figured if there was anything alarming, I would get an alert on my phone for weather or Amber Alerts. Anything else, Mom would call and fill me in.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to come.”
“Of course, I’m coming. I’m going to rent a car and drive,” I said, firm in my statement.
The video went wonky and came back with him mid-sentence. “Don’t worry about the cost,” before the screen froze completely and I accidently said, “Dad,” as the picture of his widened eyes were in pause mode as he looked off in the distance.
I composed myself and said his name, Christian, several times before the call ended. I tried calling him back without video several times, but the signal was gone.
All I could imagine was that my grandmother had died, and I wasn’t there.
My pent-up anxiety and frustration spilled over and the floodgates opened. I didn’t care anymore if Grant was talking about me like I was nothing. I tore through the doors and demanded, “I need to get to New York, and now.”
Grant’s father was the first to speak. “Honey, it’s just not possible now. This blizzard makes it impossible to fly, and even if it wasn’t here, it’s headed north.”
“I understand,” I said, even though I didn’t quite understand. We were in the mountains. Shouldn’t they be used to this kind of weather? No matter, I didn’t have time for a debate. “I just need a car and I’ll drive there.”