She sat up, genuinely stung. “You claim you know me, but that’s what you think this was?”
He swallowed dryly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You tell me.”
“Well, if it was, I did a terrible job of it. I wouldn’t run off with you right now even if you were Frank Sinatra!” She turned away, arms crossed over her chest.
This elicited a smile that she didn’t see, but he pulled her elbow until she was facing him again, which she did reluctantly, still miffed. “You swear?”
She looked up finally. “Fine. If you were Frank Sinatra, I’d think about it.”
He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “How long do you want me to wait?”
“Until summer maybe. Can you bribe someone to rob his store so you can save the day? Find a way to ingratiate yourself?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“It’d be a start.”
“What time do you have to be home tonight?”
“Midnight.”
He checked the watch on her wrist, a high school graduation present from her father. “Then we still have time.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Where are you going today?” I asked my grandmother, sniffing the orange juice she gave me to make sure it was just juice. Then, after checking that she was still at the stove, I smelled the juice in her glass as well. I wasn’t taking chances.
She put a plate of French toast in front of me. “Your cousin Donna is picking me up for lunch.”
I took a bite. “I have a cousin Donna?”
My grandmother made an exasperated noise. “Yes.”
“Is she my age?”
“Is she—no, she’s—” She stopped to think for a moment. “She’s seventy-six—no, seventy-seven. She’ll be seventy-eight in . . . Now, when is her birthday, again?”
I could vaguely picture an older woman named Donna at my wedding, hugging me repeatedly. I thought she was one of my grandmother’s friends.
“How are we related?”
“She’s my niece, so she’d be your . . . first cousin once removed.”
I still didn’t understand the removed thing, so I nodded politely. “Whose kid is she?”
“Bernie’s. She made me an aunt.”
“So you used to watch her here?”
“Next door. That was Bernie’s cottage. Bernie and Papa—well, it was better they not spend too much time under the same roof.”
“Why not?”
“Too similar, I suppose. Or too different. Or both.”
I knew better than to question how that could all be true at the same time. “And you’re telling the truth? She’s driving?”
“You sound more and more like your mother every day.”
“I get the feeling that isn’t a compliment.”
“Oh no. It isn’t at all.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
She sighed dramatically. “I offered to drive because she just had a hysterectomy last month, but she says she’s fine.”
I ate another piece of French toast, shaking my head.
“Where’s Joe taking you today?”
“I have no idea. He just told me to wear long pants and sneakers.”
She nodded. “Hope he brings bug spray. You’re going to need it.”
“You know where we’re going from that?”
“I believe I do. He’s taking you to see Dr. Foster.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know if he’ll get that joke. It depends on whether your mother told his mother and whether she told him.”
“Mom knows his mom?”
“Of course. They played together every summer as children.”
I felt my brow furrow. “Grandma, what are we doing here? You’re telling me bits and pieces, and I get the feeling you have some big plan.”
“Me?” she asked innocently.
“Yes, you.”
“I told you. I have business to attend to.”
“And is that business just visiting your friends and family?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“If it were your business, I’d happily tell you. But it’s not.”
I sighed dramatically, irritated. “Will you tell me when it’s done?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that yet.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Maybe. But that’s why I’m interesting, darling. What are you?”
My jaw dropped open.