Chapter 58

Grandpa Talks

Amidst the clink-clink of dishes being cleared, I hear the sound of the front door. Is Chance going for a walk? Yesterday I’d have gone with him—before Grandpa ruined everything. I recall the hurt in Chance’s face, the way he avoided my eyes when he told me what Grandpa said. Friendship or anything else with Chance was crushed flatter than my goldfinch hat.

Footsteps on the stairs tell me someone is coming. Florence. “Your grandfather wants to talk to you.”

I clench my jaw. “He said too much already.” The words squeeze out between my teeth.

“Please come downstairs, Virginia.”

I shake my head, but Grandpa traipses upstairs anyhow. I’ve looked hither and yon for him since I got here. And now when I don’t want to lay eyes on him, he’s harder to shed than a cocklebur on a hound’s coat.

Florence leaves us alone, but I don’t look at Grandpa, as he soft-speaks my name the way he used to.

I can’t forget his lies and schemes. “I don’t want to talk to you,” I say. “Go earn money if you’ve a mind to. Though you don’t need to. Chance said West Virginia will pay your train fare.” I finally look up. “Needing train fare was another lie.”

A look flits across his face, a pained look it seems. But it flits away in an eyeblink.

“It wasn’t train fare. I got that.” He pats his pocket.

He strokes his beard. “When a boy back home gits married, he’s content with a house-raisin’, maybe a piece’a land. Boys what ain’t seen our ridge needs more’n that.”

“You mean you told Chance you’d pay him to marry me?” Do they hear my screech downstairs? I lower my voice. “Did you offer Gerald Simms money, too?”

Grandpa looks down at his feet. His words come out so quiet I lean closer. “I give Simms a few dollars ta court ya with. For flowers and candy and such. But I seen right quick he ain’t marryin’ stock. Didn’t swaller that flapdoodle about his ma bein’ Virginia-born. And them flowers he brung wasn’t store-bought.”

“He stole them! He was sweet-mouth and lies. He didn’t tell the truth anymore than you do.” I recall wondering how Gerald knew to bring flowers to the restaurant that night. It was Grandpa’s doing. I jab my finger toward his face. “You paid to get me courted by a low-down, no-account, flower-stealing…” Since I never told Grandpa all Gerald did, I close my mouth quick-like.

“I done things wrong with Simms,” he says, “but I seen it’d take considerable money ta convince a city boy. Didn’t know ya’d go sweet on a city boy that was Yankee ta boot.”

His grin tries to make me smile, but no smile is in me.

“I seen ya was sweet on Chance.”

“You saw on account of you spied from the corn patch. If you truly wanted me happy, you’d have kept your jaw shut.”

Grandpa picks up as though I never spoke. “A boy what never made a life from the land don’t ‘preciate it like you and me. I needed convincin’ money, so’s he’s willin’ ta try it a spell.”

“I don’t want someone who needs money or land to convince him to spend his life with me. Look at our ancestors. If it came to it, I’d want a man willing to live in a cave with me.”

I watch those words sink in before I speak again. “Keep your double-cross money. I want no part of it—or you!”

I cross my arms and turn my back, studying that high window as though it has meaning. I can almost hear Grandpa stroke his beard as he waits for me to give in. Not this time, Grandpa. The silence is like another person who stands between us.

Before long, Grandpa’s footsteps go downstairs.

I am not sorry for what I said, but I am puzzled over what will come next. As much as I don’t want to be, I’m beholden to Grandpa. He provided a place for me to stay, and his money will get me home. I can do nothing without him.