Inside, Grams took one look at me and shook her head. “Boy, you look like a drowned rat. What the heck are you doing playing out in that rain?”
I unzipped my sweatshirt and took out the bag I’d tucked inside to keep dry. “I went to get you the sugar you asked for.”
“You mean your sister’s sugar. She’s the one who wanted it to make rock candy.”
I freaking knew it. I shook my head. “She told me you wanted it.”
Grams chuckled. “Sounds about right. I’m one of eight, and shit flows downhill. I probably would’ve done the same thing to my little brother when we were your age.” Her phone started to ring, so she walked toward where it hung on the wall, motioning to my clothes. “Go get changed, and I’ll make you a snack.”
I was so soaked, I even had to change my damn underwear.
When I came back out, Grams was hanging up the phone. She pulled her raincoat from the coat closet and grabbed her car keys from the key holder that hung near the front door. “I have to run out. You and your sister be good.”
“It’s pouring. Where are you going?”
Grams shook her head. “To help a friend. I’ll explain when I get home.”
“Okay.”
After she left, I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When I put the dirty butter knife in the sink, I looked out the window and noticed my grandmother’s hot rod in the neighbor’s driveway. A woman was getting in the passenger side. Grams’s friend Milly walked around the side of the house with her arm wrapped around the girl who’d almost fallen from the treehouse a little while ago. I watched as they all piled in, and then Grams took off, flying down the road.
It was hours later when she came back, and I was half asleep on the couch, watching a poker tournament on TV. She walked over and grabbed the remote, flicking it off.
I sat up. “Is everything alright?”
She sighed. “It is now—for the time being anyway.”
“Did something happen to Milly next door? I saw her getting in your car with some other people.”
“No, Milly’s fine.”
“Oh. When I came back from the store earlier, a girl ran out from Milly’s. She almost cracked her head open climbing into the treehouse in the back when the ladder slipped out from under her.”
“That must’ve been Milly’s youngest granddaughter, Everly.”
“I heard a man yelling, too.”
Grams frowned. “That was her father. He’s a bad man, honey. But he won’t be coming around anymore, at least for a while.”
“Is the girl okay?”
Grams nodded and patted my hand. “She will be.”
I nodded.
“Come on. You’ve been watching that boob tube long enough. I want to show you something I’ve been working on.”
I followed Grams to the kitchen where she unrolled a piece of oak tag paper. Inside were probably a hundred rectangles, all connected with various lines.
“What is that?”
“It’s our family tree. I thought it would be nice to map out our ancestors.”
I shrugged. “For what?”
“To know where we came from, silly. What do you mean, for what?”
She pointed to the top of the chart. “This here would be your great, great, great, great grandfather, Merchant Harrington. He was a tailor.” She lowered her finger down the chart. “He made his daughter’s wedding dress, which was worn by two more generations. I have a picture of it on my computer. Maybe you’ll wind up being a tailor, too.”