Hang Tough(24)

Jade had wondered the same thing, even knowing her mom struggled with her own elderly mother’s care. “What did your grandma do? Did she fight it?”

Tobin shot her an odd look. “How could she? First of all, stuff like that wasn’t done by ladies her age. Hiring a lawyer would’ve taken a bite out of her meager savings. When I told her I’d go to court and ask to be declared an adult so I could take care of her . . . that was the first time I’d ever seen her cry.” He knocked back another drink of beer.

“Did that change anything?”

“Nope. The next time I saw her she lived in Sunny Acres Rest Home. She had one room, which served as her bedroom and her sitting room. At the ranch, she’d used a walker to get around her house. Within four months of living there, she’d become wheelchair-bound.”

His icy tone had her pulling the afghan more securely around herself.

“I assumed she was easier to take care of if the workers could just plop her in a wheelchair and push her wherever they wanted her to go. Even within the first month, she wasn’t the same chatty woman who’d ask about my day at school, which would lead her into a story about her childhood. She’d pat my leg and say, ‘That’s nice, dear,’ and return to watching TV. It got so I couldn’t visit her anymore. It never occurred to me, until years later, that maybe I was the only one who visited her besides my mom. After I stopped . . .” He drained his beer. “She only lasted a year in that place before she died.”

“I’m . . . sorry.”

Tobin looked at Jade. “Is that really what you want for your grandma? To die alone? With only her TV for company? Because the thought of that rips my fucking guts out.” He set his bottle on the railing and bounded down the steps.

The weight of this decision about her grandma’s future sat in the pit of her stomach like a stone.

After a few minutes, Jade followed him.

He stood next to the water pump, his hands propped on his hips, staring into the dark night.

“We’re not on opposite sides, Tobin. We both want what’s best for GG. Your experience with your grandmother is heartbreaking, but it’s also skewed from the perspective of a young boy.”

“Great. You gonna psychoanalyze me now?”

“No. But you can’t deny that maybe you didn’t have the whole story. You have no way of knowing whether your grandma was diagnosed with anything serious. And before you argue with me, that exact scenario happened to a friend of mine. Her grandpa was fine for all appearances, then her family moved him into a nursing home. She also believed it was laziness on the part of the nursing home workers that within two weeks he was wheelchair-bound. Within three months he was completely bedridden. Within five months he was dead. Would things have been different if her mom had admitted that her grandpa was diagnosed with a fast-moving bone cancer that necessitated an immediate move into a nursing facility?”

“Not the same thing, Jade.”

“But you don’t know. Maybe your grandmother asked that her health diagnosis wasn’t shared with you. That even happened to me with my own mother just recently. When I found out, I was so angry with her and my dad for keeping the truth from me. They thought they were protecting me. Maybe your dad and mom thought they were protecting you.”

Tobin didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then he looked at her. “I’ll concede that argument. You can bet your ass I’ll ask my dad about that the next time I see him.”

Although their conversation appeared to be at an end, Jade had no desire to go back into the house. She meandered to the end of the driveway. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back and welcomed the cool breeze blowing across her face.

Shuffling footsteps stopped beside her. The clean cotton and earthy scent she’d started to associate with Tobin drifted over her.

“Tryin’ to escape my charming company?” Tobin said.

“Always. But it doesn’t seem to work, does it?”

“Not for either of us.” He sighed. “Look. Believe it or not, I’m not usually a grumpy, self-centered jerk. You said your day sucked ass too. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You won’t confide in me even a little?” he cajoled her. “After I tried like hell to get you to believe that I’m just a good old boy who’s always had a soft spot in my heart for grandmotherly types and widows?”

Jade laughed. “You weren’t telling me a tall tale to gain my trust.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. A true con artist would’ve cried at the end of the story to gain additional sympathy. You just got more pissed off. That’s an honest reaction.”