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enter my designated shared room, where I’m
received with great joy by Henry’s sisters, as if I’ve
been gone a week, rather than half an hour.
Oh yeah, I reflect, it’s going to be a great
Christmas!
Chapter Fifteen
The next day, we go to visit the infamous
Grandpa Henry. He and his wife, Grandma June live
in a forest, which surprises me, because I didn’t think
there were any forests in Florida. They live in a small
cabin on the edge of a river. Grandpa Henry doesn’t
look much like Henry and his father, except for his
eyes, which are almost exactly the same as Henry’s.
Grandpa Henry and Grandma June spend some
time hugging and kissing the family members while I
stand back and watch. Grandpa Henry pulls some
large silver coins out of his pocket and gives one to
each of the kids, Henry included. Then he sees me
standing there. He walks over with a big smile.
“You must be Kate. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He hugs me, something that no longer surprises
me coming from anyone in this family. He slips a
coin into my hand also. Grandma June hugs me,
then Grandpa Henry tucks my hand into his arm.
“Let’s walk,” he says.
“Henry, let the child alone. She hardly knows you,”
Grandma June chides.
“I just want to walk with her, get to know her a
little,” he says, steering me toward the back door.
“I don’t mind,” I say to my Henry, who’s watching
with clear intent to interfere if I want him to.
“June, honey, why don’t you get the kids
something to eat while Kate and I talk?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just takes me out
the back door, closing it firmly behind himself, a
clear indication that we aren’t to be followed. He
leads me down the steps and onto a path that leads
along the river.
“So, you’re my Henry’s girlfriend, eh?” he asks,
grinning mischievously.
I shrug, “I guess so.”
“You guess so? Don’t you know?”
“There hasn’t really been anything…” I search for
a word, “formal declared by either of us.” Even as I
say it I remember Henry’s words the day before as
we played in the ocean. I love you. At least, that’s
what I thought I had heard.
“Huh,” he’s lost in thought. “Odd,” he finally
declares.
“What’s odd?”
“I talk to Henry several times a week,” he tells me,
something I hadn’t known. “And all that boy talks
about is you. I think I can say with certainty that that
boy is head over heels with you.” I duck my head,
embarrassed but also extremely pleased at his
words.
“Well,” I mumble, “the feeling is entirely mutual.”
Grandpa Henry laughs, directing me over to a
bench that sits facing the river.
“Let’s sit here a bit.”
“It is really beautiful here,” I tell him, admiring the
lush green pine trees that are thick and deep around
us. The clear water gushes by.
“It is, isn’t it? June and I have lived here, oh, I
guess it would be about ten years now, and we plan
to die here.”
I nod. “I can see why. I’d like to die here, myself.”
He looks at me, and I realize what I said, how
foolish it sounded. My cheeks pinken in chagrin.
“What I meant was, if I were going to die, this
would be an idyllic place to do it.”
Grandpa Henry laughs.
“Well, let’s hope you don’t have to worry about that
for some time.” He eyes my splinted wrist. “What
happened there?”
My stomach tightens at the question. I find myself
very much not wanting to lie to this man, but also not
wanting to admit the truth. I struggle with my answer,
while he waits patiently, watching the river flow by.
Maybe it’s the calming influence of the river, or the
way he seems to inspire confidence with his
presence—another trait shared by his son and
grandson—or just the fact that his eyes are so like
my Henry’s, but I find myself blurting the truth.
“My mother did it.” As soon as the words are out, I
want to recall them, but instead of gasping with
shock or looking at me with censure, he simply nods,
keeping his eyes on the river.
“I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” Now he
does turn toward me. “I’m also good at keeping
secrets.”
And like that, I find myself telling him everything.
“When I was young, my life was pretty normal, I
think. I don’t have any bad or traumatic memories
anyway. Then when I was nine my dad lost his job. I
don’t know why that should have been such a big
deal, since he goes through about a job a year now.
But it changed everything.”
I tell him how my mother had changed after losing
the baby, all the way up until the last beating, leaving
out the worst details of the frequency and severity of
the beatings, but I think he fills in the blanks anyway.
He watches the river, not commenting or interrupting.
At some point during my story, he had reached out
and gently took hold of my hand. His weathered,
wrinkled, calloused hand over mine has a calming
effect, and rather than tell the story with tears or
anger, I simply state the facts. When I finish, he
squeezes my hand then releases it.
“Does Henry know about this?”
I shake my head. “No. I think he might suspect a
little, but he can’t really imagine it, coming from the
family he does.”
“No, I don’t imagine he can. My son knows?”
“He knows some. He’s the one who fixed me up
after the last…time. He saw some old injuries on my
x-rays and asked me.”
“He’s a good boy.”
I smile at his description of Dr. Jamison as a boy.
I can hardly think of Henry as a boy, let alone his
father.
“Yes, he is,” I agree. “They are all good people.
I tell him how my mother had changed after losing
They have become my ideal of what a family should
be. I never imagined that there were really families
out there like that, where everyone was so nice, and
loved each other so much.”
“My son did well in choosing Emma for his wife.
She reminds me very much of my June.” He eyes me
sideways. “Looks like Henry has the same
propensity for picking a good girl to love.”
I smile at him, warmed by the compliment.
“You shouldn’t go back home,” he tells me, deadly
serious. “It sounds like it keeps getting worse. What
happens next time?”
I swallow. I’ve had those same thoughts myself,
many times.
“She seems to be trying now. She has been nice
to me since the last time, and she allowed me to
come here. She even gave me a little money, which
was a big sacrifice for her.”
“Does she know you came with Henry?”
“No,” I look away, feeling guilty. “She doesn’t even
know Henry. I just told her I was going with a friend,
which wasn’t a lie. Henry is my best friend.”
We hear leaves crunching against the ground
behind us and turn to see Henry coming toward us. I
look at Grandpa Henry, stress tightening my eyes at
the thought that he’ll tell my secret. He glances at me
and shakes his head, indicating his confidentiality.
“There you two are,” Henry says, glancing at his
grandpa with a loving smile, then turning his gaze on
me, concern in his expression. I smile and he visibly
relaxes.
“We’re just sitting here, admiring the river.”
Grandpa Henry tells him. “Wanted to make sure this
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