Somehow, that makes me feel sulky inside. I was never with Toren for his money. We came from different worlds. His mom might have raised him by herself after his dad left, but she had lots of money. Toren’s grandmother is a billionaire, and she takes care of all her kids. Always has. He never had to worry about money, and his mom didn’t have to work three or sometimes four jobs. I was proud of the fact that I never knew he had that kind of money when we met. I loved him for who he was. The money was nice, but it never mattered that way.
Still, I can’t deny that what Rose says is true, even if it sounds crass. I would never use Toren for money now, and I would never expect him to just dole it out to us, but if he loved Milo and wanted to provide him with things like college tuition and better health benefits or money for things like braces, or medical emergencies, it would ease my worry. A lot.
But it’s not why I want him in Milo’s life. And I won’t let him buy his way back. Not that he would ever even try to do that. It’s not Tor. Toren. Let’s use full names here, Lu. Yeah, it was nice when he called me that. Too nice.
“Well, honey…” Rose shakes her head. “He’s a beefcake, he’s rich, and he’s more sensitive now. It sounds like you’ve got a real problem on your hands. You listen to old Rose Bloom here and take care of your heart. You hear me? That kind of combination could take down a lesser woman, but I know you won’t let yourself get suckered back in. Unless you want to.”
“No, I don’t want to.” My heart bangs angrily against my ribs and throbs a little, sending minor pains zapping through my chest. Is this what a heart attack feels like? My arm isn’t numb, and I can breathe just fine when I try, so I think I’m okay.
“Hmm.” Rose reaches over into the bag to take another handful of seed, which she scatters gently. I don’t know how these birds weigh what they should. With the amount Rose feeds, you’d think they’d be too heavy to take off and fly. “Well, you watch yourself. Those beefcakes are more dangerous than any other kinds of cakes. Old Rose knows.”
This is a story I really want her to tell me, but before I can ask, Milo runs over. He stops just short of scattering or scaring the birds since he knows better. “Look, mom!” He points up. “Now there’s a dog cloud eating the unicorn fart cloud.”
I look up. It turns out he’s right because that’s precisely what it looks like.
CHAPTER 6
Toren
Even though I should be calling an emergency meeting with my cousins, since finding out I’m a father does indeed constitute an emergency, I know I need to talk to Granny first.
When I show up at her place—a sprawling, white gated stucco house with statues by the driveway, the doors, and on the front lawn—she’s ready for me, and she answers the door before I even ring the bell.
No, I didn’t call in advance, but she has cameras, and I bet she saw me coming even before the cameras because she has a sixth Granny sense. Oh, and also, she definitely planned the whole thing with the bracelet. It was a classic Granny setup, and now she’s going in for the Granny takedown. That makes me think about old school video games, me in one corner, my grandma in the other, each of us with our power bars above our heads to indicate our life or health or whatever it is. I have a feeling Granny already made her finishing move when she sent me to pick up the bracelet. My life bar is probably flashing red now.
“Toren. I was expecting you.” Granny doesn’t beat around the bush.
She’s like Luna. Unfailingly honest, but much sneakier about it. And much more devious. Granny puts the dark in the darker side of the truth, which is sometimes good. I’ve always kind of admired her for being so strong and unique. She’s the kind of lady who doesn’t age. She carried on after my grandpa died, and she isn’t afraid to take charge and do what needs to be done. She sees everything in a unique way, especially the things that need doing, and even if everyone else is scared to do them, she never is. She’s also not afraid to give the entire world a middle finger salute and mean it from the bottom of her very dear, sweet, lovely, granny heart.
“Of course you were,” I mutter. I pull the bracelet, which is in its neat purple bag, from my pocket. “This thing is blistering hot!”