Once Upon A Half-Time 2(109)
“Five scoops.”
I smiled. Granddad rubbed his face, his dark hands trembling as a rickety cough shuddered through his chest. He whooped a few times, and I handed him the little cup of water on his nightstand.
“I wish I had that photo,” I said. “I miss Nana. I’m starting to forget what she even looked like.”
“Look in the mirror.” Granddad didn’t take his eyes from the television. “You’re her, fifty years ago. Same cheekbones. Same lips. Hell, you scold me the same goddamn way. Think I’d get any peace after working a long day? Nah. Your Nana would find me after work and drag my keister home for dinner every night.”
I nodded, though I knew the real reason Nana was grabbing him for dinner. So did the rest of the town. Granddad was a good man, an honest man, but he had liked to drink.
And he really loved to gamble.
Too much.
“So…did you ever decide if you wanted to sell your electrical business?” I pretended like the option hadn’t weighed on my mind. “We might be able to get some money from it. We could sell the client list.”
“To who?”
I picked at a fraying bit of string on my sleeve. “Maddox.”
“That trouble-maker’s in jail.”
“He got out.”
“What?” Granddad turned, catching his hands in his oxygen tubes as he pointed at me. “You stay away from that boy.”
“You took him in as your apprentice.”
“Yeah, because I thought he was going to get you in trouble.”
“Granddad.”
“Don’t you Granddad me. That boy is dangerous.”
“He didn’t cause the fire.”
“Don’t be so sure.” The cough bent him in two. “His family ain’t no good. His sister is a known woman. His friends in the city don’t have a dollar between them that they haven’t stolen from someone’s pocket. He had his eyes on you from the beginning, and if I weren’t tethered to this damn oxygen tank I’d take care of him once and for all.”
“But you liked Maddox.”
“That was before he almost killed you.”
“It wasn’t him!”
“You don’t remember a thing from that night, Jo-Jo. I do. Stay away from him.”
Granddad coughed again. Too hard. I handed him more water, but he batted it away, accidentally spilling the contents over him and the floor. He swore. It only caused more coughing.
Would it always be this hard to watch him? To see the man who raised me get sick?
Get weaker?
Granddad silenced again. He stared at the TV, but he wasn’t ignoring me or losing himself in the show. His mind was fine, just cluttered with impatience, rage, and…regret?
Like he wished he hadn’t survived the fire.
The thought ached in my chest. I cleared my throat, changing the subject.
“I have a job today,” I said. “I had to make every cookie I know for Nolan Rhys. His campaign fundraiser is today.”
Granddad fiddled with the remote. “That Nolan. He still pestering you?”
“You have no idea.”
“Might be time to consider him.”
Gag. “No thanks, Granddad.”
“He’s been after you as long as Maddox.”
Yeah, but Maddox actually loved me. Nolan? He was evil. Manipulative. Someone who would kill to get what he wanted.
And no one knew but me.
“I’m not interested in Nolan,” I said.
“You’re twenty-two years old. It’s time you start thinking about your future.” Granddad set his jaw. He tapped my hand. “I’m not gonna be here forever. And that candy shop—”
“We’re gonna rebuild.”
Granddad didn’t answer, and I wasn’t going to say anything else. My future was buried under twenty-five pound bags of sugar and nothing was going to change that. Not Nolan.
Not Maddox.
It was getting late. I leaned over and kissed Granddad’s forehead. Wrinkled. The gray dusted hair that was once midnight black. Everything faded with age. I just hoped he wasn’t giving up. If only he had some faith in the candy shop. Instead, he started to sound like the rest of Saint Christie. They preferred to remember the past while I worked hard for my future.
Once I proved that Nolan was responsible for the fire, nothing would stop us from rebuilding, forgiving, and starting our real life.
Then maybe, finally, I could imagine a life with Maddox again.
I didn’t know what I dreaded more—Granddad’s silence when I wished him goodbye or Nolan’s campaign event.
His campaign circus.
The fundraiser filled the ballroom/continental breakfast hall of the largest motel in Saint Christie. After he bought the majority of rooms in the hotel, he asked for favors from most of the townsfolk to put up more of his campaign organizers. This included decorators who festooned the motel with stars and stripes. The only thing Nolan loved more than the acclaim of the town was his name scrawled in posters throughout Main Street.