"But what about the party?" Grandma moved her hips from side to side.
I coughed wildly.
"Quick, Grandma, he's going to puke!" Jake put his arm around me and walked me briskly toward the opposite end of the beach. "Better make a run for it. I'll send you Florence Nightingale. Oh, and P.S., you owe me for distracting Grandma tonight."
"Thanks." I jogged off toward the hut, smiling. Who would have ever thought Jake had a thought in that brain of his?
Chapter Twenty-eight
"So your grandson pulled the wool over your eyes?"
"No," Grandma said. "I allowed him to think he did. I purposefully told him about Beth, hoping to get him to do something about it. I knew Travis would intervene, bless his heart. He's always been the softie. But Jake? Jake has a way about wording things. He's honest, and he's brutal about it. I think the senator needed to hear it from Jake."
"Hear what?"
"To get his head out of his ass."
Beth
I ran to the hut. Jake came back without Jace, claiming that he was sick and was puking up fish.
Not a ment
al picture any one of us needed, considering we were all eating the same fish.
"Should I go see him?"
"Someone needs to!" Grandma started toward the direction of the huts, when Travis began choking on his food.
A few things happened in that moment. All of which, I am one-hundred-percent convinced were planned strategically by the Titus family.
"Oh no!" Kacey hit his back. "Travis! Grandma, help him!"
Travis's eyes widened as Grandma yelled and pushed people out of the way to reach her grandson. Much like a cheetah flies through the brush, in a flash of spots, Grandma was there, arms around Travis as she started the Heimlich.
Of course, that was at the exact time that Jake spilled rum punch all over Jace's dad, pushed out of his chair, and ended up smacking Jace's mom in the face with his cup.
Chairs fell.
People were shouting.
I could have sworn I saw a few tears.
And in the midst of it all, Char leaned over and whispered, "I don't think they'll notice if you leave."
Which was why I ran to the hut. It wasn't for fear that something was wrong with Jace. It was a fear of Grandma Nadine. A healthy fear. The type of fear that keeps people from getting eaten by bears. I was running so I wouldn't get caught.
I scurried to a halt in front of our door, slid the key in and entered, then slammed the door behind me, breathing heavily as I leaned against it.
"Being chased by wild donkeys?"
"No," I heaved. "I didn't want Grandma to follow me."
"Ah, that explains the panic."
"She's faster than she looks." I leaned over and took a few deep breaths through my nose. "I think I need to start doing more cardio."
"Or eating less cookies." Jace felt the need to say.