She looked over at him and smiled. “Hello, dear. You’re just in time for tea.”
“No need for tea. Just your company.” Gregory crossed the space between them. The second chair sat on the other side of the table, so he pulled it around to sit closer to her. “Did you finish your exercises?”
“I did. That woman is a cruel mistress.” Gran’s eyes danced over her teacup as she sipped.
He laughed. “Yes. We all know Laura is terrible. She can’t even get my name right.”
“What have I been telling you? She’s a menace.” One Gregory knew Gran adored.
“Mm-hmm. And what about Hanna? What do you think of her?”
“She’s perfect. You’d better put her on the payroll, Gregory Arthur, or I’ll be very cross with you.”
Gregory winced. “With the middle name, even. That’s what I came to talk to you about, as it happens. If you liked her, and thought she’d make a good governess.”
“Better than you know. Please. Keep her around.” Gran set her teacup on her saucer, which she carefully settled on the table between them. “I asked her to come look at my old dresses with me on Thursday. It’s not nearly as much fun to do alone.”
Though Gran didn’t add more, the deepest meanings remained in what she had not said.It isn’t as much fun to do alone, and there’s no one else to ask.No children of her own. Gregory had remained unmarried, and hadn’t dated seriously for years, so she had no daughter-in-law to bond with.
Gran’s stepdaughter, Gregory’s mother Darlene, had no interest in Gran’s old clothes and old stories. Neither did she have any interest in a relationship with the woman whom Henry Russell had married instead of Darlene’s mother, his long-time affair. Gregory didn’t think that rift would ever mend, not for anyone involved.
Gran preached mercy and compassion for her stepdaughter. Darlene did not return the sentiments. Not even now, as she blundered her way through attempts to kindle a relationship with the son she hadn’t bothered to raise. Perhaps especially not now, not when her son doted on the woman who’d cared for him in her place.
“Then I’m glad we have her here. She seems like the kind of person who’d love that sort of thing.” Greg found the most diplomatic response he could.Maybe I can ask Hanna to surreptitiously record their time together so those stories aren’t lost. Not like my mother will care to remember them.
“She is. I’m very fond of her already.” He expected another comment about taking Hanna to lunch, or on an outing, but Gran kept quiet on that front. Instead, she said, “How was your meeting with Robert?”
Another matter he didn’t want to discuss. “I’m a little put out with Robert right now. He’s not giving me some of the answers I want.”
“He’s probably trying to ease you in, dear. Perhaps that isn’t what you want, but Robert has known you since you were small. It’s hard to really see the little boys of our past as men grown and capable. It often takes a bit of friction to break those old perceptions.”
“There’s about to be friction, all right.”
“As there always is. Adulthood isn’t granted, my dear. It’s claimed.” A complicated smile graced her lips, proud and melancholy and more he could not decipher. “Remember, as you claim your place, that Robert has seen far more than most realize. His own place at the adults’ table did not come without cost. Be gracious as you do what you must.”
Gregory canted his head. “You know more about him than I do. What happened?”
At first, she didn’t answer. She reached forward, he thought to take his hand, but she paused with her hand in front of his chest. He saw her chest rise and fall with a slow, deliberate breath, as her hand hovered there in front of him. Her unfocused eyes stared at his buttons, but he doubted she saw them. Not with the expression of sorrow she wore, the regret written in the furrows on her brow. A shudder chased through him, full of cold and a dread that lived in the darkness of his mind.
“What do you see?” he asked, afraid of the answer.
“The past. The past that should have been.” Then she did take his hand to hold between both of hers. “You were so young. Too young to remember, and that’s all to the good. Robert’s stories aren’t mine to tell. Instead, tell me what he did to make you so angry.”
An unsettled mood clung to him. He tried to shake it off. “Like I said, answers he won’t give. Then we talked about the party, and the board, and it was hopeless after that.”
“Oh dear.” A frown creased her mouth down. “What did he say about the board?”
“Some of it, I expected. They’ve been polite while we mourned, and while I started to find my feet. They have their doubts about me. They’re questioning the stability of the company under my leadership.” He rolled his free hand in an and-so-on gesture. “The rest, though.”
“The rest?”
He took a deep breath and held it against his next words. The desire to do for himself, to not worry her, warred with the knowledge that she gave good advice and had insights no one else would. “I don’t meet with certain standards of traditional values. Namely, they’re wondering if Martin and I are lovers. That he’s planning the party for me doesn’t help the impression. And now, they’re starting to use ‘traditional family values’ as an excuse to undermine me.”
Gran’s eyes narrowed. “Those bigoted asses. I imagine they probably didn’t like Martin already.”
“Robert intimated as much. I don’t even know where to start with how angry all that makes me.” Gregory carefully held his grandmother’s hand, because otherwise, he would ball up his fists too tight. “I don’t care if they think Martin and I are together. Hell, if I swung that way, ifheswung that way, I’d be proud to put a ring on that. He puts up with enough of my shit.”
“You could do far worse than that nice young man. If I were thirty years younger, I’d be charming the pants right off him.”