“Yeah, but if he can figure it out, other people can too. And now everyone is thinking about me again.” I cast an annoyed look in Ben’s direction, which he ignores.
“Maybe not.” She pauses. “I hope people really are having sex like that in their twenties the way they are in your books.”
Ben laughs mid-sip, and then presses the back of his hand to his mouth as he coughs.
“We were all so repressed in our twenties,” Grandma continues. “Just focused on marrying the first jerk who asked.”
“Was Grandpa the first jerk who asked?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.” I barely remember the man—he died when I was a kid—but I’d guessed from the way she never spoke about him that he wasn’t particularly missed.
“The world seemed so dangerous for women back then,” she says.
“We’re sitting here with a man who investigates women’s murders, so I wouldn’t say it’s safe now.”
“Oh sure.” Grandma waves dismissively. “But you know what I mean. I never could have left my husband and moved to Los Angeles by myself, like you did. I was supposed to get married and stay married, so my husband could protect me. I needed to be transferred straight from father to husband, or something terrible might happen to me.”
She takes a long sip of her drink. “My life vastly improved once both those men were gone. Men don’t protect us, not really. They only protect themselves, or each other. The only thing men ever protected me from was happiness.”
“Oh shit,” Ben murmurs under his breath.
“A little too much honesty there for you, Ben?” I ask.
“I would expect nothing less from you, Beverly.” He smiles at Grandma with genuine affection.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call you one of the good ones, but you’re not half bad,” Grandma says.
Ben bursts out laughing, the sound echoing off the quiet porch. “I will take that compliment, thank you.”
I lean my head back with a sigh. She’s right. She’s always right. She was right about me coming back, about her party, about Ben. I’ve been angry with Ben for dredging up the past, but it needed to be dredged up.
No one protected Savvy back then. The very least I can do is find answers for her now.
“You’re not half bad,” I repeat softly. One side of Ben’s mouth turns up, and when our eyes meet, I have to look away.
Grandma squints, and I follow her gaze to a gray-haired man walking down the road in our direction, swinging a cane like some kind of dapper gentleman from the 1920s. “Oh, hold on.” She gets up and struts toward him, glass in hand.
I watch her greet the man with a kiss. The vodka buzz is intensifying, and I actually feel a little jealous. I’m reminded again of how long it’s been since I had good sex.
“That’s a different man than the one who came by when I interviewed her,” Ben says with a soft laugh. He pauses for a moment. “Do you agree with her about Matt?”
I look at him in surprise. “What about Matt?”
“Have you finished episode five?”
“No, I only got about halfway before I had to meet you.”
“Oh.” He’s watching Grandma and her suitor. She laughs at something he says. “You should finish episode five.”
“Why? What’d she say?”
He takes a long sip of his drink. “She thinks Matt killed her.”
Listen for the Lie Podcast with Ben Owens EPISODE 5—“A MYSTERY WOMAN”
If I’m being honest, Beverly Moore is the reason you’re listening to season two of this podcast.
I reached out to her last year. I didn’t even expect a reply to my email, but she called me up within hours of receiving it. Told me she’d be happy to talk to me about Lucy.
Ben:???????????????Mrs. Moore, I really appreciate you sitting down with me today.
Beverly:?????????Oh, hon, you can call me Beverly.
Ben:???????????????Okay. Beverly. Can you tell me about your granddaughter? What was Lucy like when she was younger?
Beverly:?????????She was a real no-nonsense girl. Just didn’t have time for any shit, you know? I’ve always admired that about her. I was so concerned with whether or not everyone liked me at that age.
And people hate that quality in a young woman, don’t they? They don’t know what to do with a girl who isn’t looking for their approval. They feel like they have to bring her down a peg.
Ben:???????????????You knew Savannah, didn’t you?