“She did. She told me to take care of you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? Why would she say that?”
“Because she obviously knew you needed someone watching over you.”
“I’m a grown woman.”
He studied her. “Hm, are you?”
“I’m twenty-five,” she lied.
He shook his head. “Lying gets you into trouble, little one. Do it again and it will go in your naughty girl book.”
“Excuse me? Are you joking? Is this some sort of weird prank?” Was someone going to jump out with a camera and yell surprise!
He frowned. “Getting admitted to the hospital is no joke.”
“Neither is talking about punishment and naughty girl books and. . .and looking after me.”
She’d dreamed of having someone do that for her. She’d always been jealous of other kids with parents that cared. With older siblings who watched out for them. She’d never had that.
“Gigi, I can assure you, I am not joking. My grandmother woke up and her concern was for you. Obviously, you have a close relationship. You live in her house. You took care of her.”
“We kind of looked after each other.”
He nodded. “And what are your plans now, sweet pea?”
She gulped, unable to answer that. Because she didn’t have a plan.
“That’s what I thought. Baby, we both know that Nan,” he took a deep breath, “that she hasn’t got much longer.”
She knew how hard it must be for him to say those words. Just thinking about Penny never returning to her home. . .about her dying. . .it had tears tracking down her face.
“Sh,” he told her. “Sh, baby. It’s okay.” He carefully sat on the bed, facing her and drew her up so she was resting against his wide chest. Oh God, it shouldn’t feel so good. She should pull away. She didn’t even know him.
Except she felt like she did. Penny adored talking about him. Which kind of made her feel sad that she’d never mentioned Gigi to Macca. She wondered why she’d never said anything.
It’s not the same, Gigi. You were her companion, not her granddaughter.
“I didn’t say that to upset you, baby. I know it’s hard. But we need to figure out a plan for you, yeah? Because you need to work out what you’re going to do next. But the first thing you have to do is get better, okay?” He leaned her back so he could stare sternly down at her. “And you’re going to let me help.”
“I’m not your responsibility.” She swiped at her cheeks. He reached over and grabbed a tissue. She reached up to take it, but he held it back.
“Hands down,” he told her.
She frowned. Had he grabbed it for another reason? She lowered her hands and to her chagrin, he started to wipe her cheeks.
“I could do that,” she muttered.
“I know,” he said with a grin. “But that would deny me of the pleasure. Now blow.”
She blew her nose. Gross. And he got pleasure in cleaning her face? That was. . .weird.
His smile widened. “You should see the look on your face. I’m just wiping your face, sweet pea, not asking you to commit murder with me.”
That might be less weird.
She slumped back on the bed, yawning tiredly. God, she’d just woken up and already she was exhausted. He reached up and pushed back some strands of hair off her face. “You scared me.”