I try to keep the guard up on my face as my stomach does a little somersault. What does she mean Issi loves me? The woman acts as if she can barely tolerate me. If I come into a room, she leaves as fast as she can. She never talks to me except to give me yes or no answers. Heck, today was the first time she’s said more than just a sentence or two at a time to me. There’s no way she loves me. “Now, Granny... “ I start, wanting to appease her.
She’s not having it, though. She stops and shakes her head. “Look, Lucas, would I love to see you and Isabella together? Absolutely. Would I love to see you happy–”
I start to interrupt her and tell her that I am indeed happy, but she swats me on the chest, stopping me. “No, I mean truly happy, and don’t even try to lie to me and say you are happy. Are you content with your life? Sure. But I want you to have it all, Lucas. You deserve to be loved... You just have to be open to it.”
I start to nod, but Granny’s not done yet. “And look, I’m worried about what will happen to Issi when I go. You have your brothers; she has no one.”
All I can do is stare back at the woman that has loved me unconditionally my last thirty-four years. Speechless, I know what she’s asking of me. I know what she wants, but I can’t promise her that yet. Fuck, I want to give her everything she wants, and it’s on the very tip of my tongue to do just that, but instead, I murmur, “I promise you, Granny. I will make sure she’s okay.”
She tilts her head and looks at me as if she’s trying to weigh my words, and by the pinched look on her face, she’s finding them underwhelming. “And I’ll get to know her... spend some time with her.”
Granny turns and grabs on to the arm of her chair before settling into it. “Thank you, Lucas. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it. All I’m saying is to be open to it. Imagine if you and Isabella ended up getting married. Oh, Lucas, you’ve made this old woman happy.”
I plop down in the chair across from her. I know in her head, she’s already planning a wedding, but I don’t have the heart to stop her. Surely, there’s another way.
Isabella
“So what did Lottie say?” Bridget asks me.
I’m huffing and puffing, mostly from holding my breath as I quietly ran away from Lottie’s door and then down the stairs. I try to pull myself together. “Oatmeal. She said oatmeal was fine.”
Bridget looks at me strangely. “Are you okay?”
I nod and start to ramble. “Great. I’m good. Just fine.”
She shakes her head and turns back to the stove, mumbling something about kids these days. I’m twenty-five years old, but to Bridget, I’m a child. She says it enough. She’s worked for the family for as long as I can remember, and even though she’s gruff most of the time, she really is a good person. “Thanks, Bridget.”
She shrugs and goes about setting the tray. At the request of Bridget, I went upstairs to see if Lottie wanted oatmeal or some peanut butter toast this morning, but when I got upstairs, there was a slow country tune on the speakers, and Lucas was dancing with his grandmother. Instantly, I’d pulled my phone from my pocket and started recording. He was mostly holding her up–our dancing earlier obviously wore her out–but even so, there was love shining on her face as she looked up at Lucas. I hadn’t planned to eavesdrop. It was innocent enough. I was wanting to catch a sweet moment between the two of them. I had no idea what I would overhear by standing there.
I definitely didn’t expect G to tell Lucas that I was in love with him. I put my hand over my heart and lean on the counter. I feel a pressure in my chest, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I want to run. Heck, run as fast and as far as I can. I can just imagine what Lucas is thinking. He’s going to fire me. I’m pretty sure he’s been looking for a reason to get rid of me, which is why I’ve been living out of my suitcase here for the last three months.
I don’t know which one causes me more grief: the fact I’m probably fired and won’t be able to see G anymore, or the fact that Lucas now knows how I feel about him.
“I’m taking this to Lottie.”
I nod and force a smile to my face as Bridget walks from the kitchen carrying the tray in her hands. As soon as she’s gone, I lean my head down on the cool countertop and groan. This whole situation is not ideal. I could have gone my whole life without Lucas knowing how I felt about him, but I can’t be mad at Lottie. I know her heart is in the right place even if it is a little bit misguided. I turn my head to the side and press my cheek to the cool tile. I feel hot all over, and I’m about to walk over and stick my head in the refrigerator when I hear Lucas ask, “Are you okay?”