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It had been approximately four years, three months, and a few odd weeks since the last time I saw my grandmother. I wasn't even aware that she was back in town until now. She'd taken an extended trip to France with her sixth husband, enjoying her time there to inhale their culture and food. I thought she had one more week of her vacation before she'd come back to California.

I loved my grandmother, don't assume that I don't. There was one issue with her arrive though. Whenever she spoke, she had no filter to stop her. She was a very elegant lady that came from a fairly wealthy family, but if you pushed the wrong button, she could change in an instance. With Evelyn near by, I knew there was going to be a problem already.

When she had visited me in upstate New York four years ago, she had only dreadful things to say about Evelyn and how she was displeased with my father for what he had done. Even though it was one year after the finalization of the divorce at that time, my grandma still had hope my father would regain some sense and return home.

I was pretty sure all those in-law fears people had been created because of her. She was the person other in-laws looked in awe for how blunt and brutal she could be. She was awfully ruthless to people who weren't Lenard and I, which was no surprise because she came from a long line of established business people, mainly in the hotel business in urban locations. If you ever stayed at the Hyland hotel, then you know which chain of hotels I'm talking about. It was pretty hard to book a room to begin with for the New York City or Chicago hotels. If the insanely high prices didn't turn you away, the long waiting list surely would. You had to be important to get rushed to the front of the line or cough up lots of money.

My grandmother was the first woman in our family who didn't get married right after high school and have kids. She went to college like her brothers and got herself a degree, not knowing that she'd soon take over the family business. She was also the first woman in our family to not change her last name to her husband's when she finally did tie the knot. In the end, it was a good idea that she didn't change it when she divorced him, and also the four men that would come after him.

Grandma stood over the threshold, not quite inside just yet. She had on a large hat in a vibrant color that matched her always flamboyant clothing. Removing the hat, she took her first step inside of the estate and went for a hug.

"My my my, you look like a splitting image of your mother." She beamed, holding me in a tight embrace. "You could be twins if she was standing beside you."

Evelyn snickered, still on the couch. "You just walked in. There's no need for you to make insults like that this early on."

Grandma released me from the embrace and sent a dark look over at Evelyn. "I don't know how things work in the South--or whatever hick region of the country you're from--but you do not and will not say those kinds of things about my daughter-in-law."

"You mean ex daughter-in-law." Evelyn corrected.

"No. I mean what I said. She might've done some questionable things, but she still birthed my grandchildren. Which is one thing you seem to not be able to do still, Ms. Evelyn Price."

Evelyn didn't appear to have been extremely affected by my grandmother's blunt, harsh words. Instead, she rose from her seat and held her stomach with both hands. "That's going to change quite soon."

Was that why she was feeling sick that one rainy day? It would explain all of her visits to the hospital.

Grandma rolled her eyes and sighed. "You've said that ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you. Those lies might've fooled my son into marrying you and leaving his own children, but it hasn't fooled me. Let's just see how long this fictional child inside of you last this time before disappearing because of an unbelievable tragedy."

"This isn't a -"

"That's enough from you." Grandma raised her hand, shooing Evelyn away like she was some child. It shut her up and got her to sit back down in her seat, mumbling to herself.

Holding my shoulders, she went back to smiling at me. "Have you finished packing?"

"No, I hardly started. I recently got home."

"Take your time and bring as many things as you want to put in your room at my house. It'll just be you, Hunter, and I up in Winchester Hills for the weekend." She released me and I stepped closer to the stairs. "Anthony is still in France so it'll just be the three of us home. If we have time, we can go over to the country club."

"Why is Hunter coming with us?" I asked with my hand on the railing.

"He figured he'd tag along. No harm in that," she answered.

I didn't know he'd have any interest in going with my grandmother and I. We weren't the typical kind of people he hung out with on weekends. I was sure there were parties he could attend and Boulder Valley kids to mess with. I didn't try to think too much about it as I went up stairs to start packing.

For all I knew, he could be trying to get away from those kinds of people. The first day I met him, he said he was tired of the kids he associated himself with and was bored of their routines.

Eventually, I decided I didn't care if he came with us or not. As long as he didn't being up Pierson or Dakota, I would be fine.

. . . . .

Driving up to Winchester Hills was a lot longer than I thought it would be. We had to wait for dad to come home before we could leave. No one really told me why I was meant to stay with my grandma for the weekend, but I hoped it would be revealed at some point during the stay. It was so random that I had a feeling this wasn't well thought out.

Grandma's house was in our family for about a century now. It was originally a Mayor's mansion when it was first built, standing tall on an inclined road only leading up to it. It had been extended in the early 1900s and we almost lost it before the second world war. I knew this by memory because my grandma told me every time I met up with her and she brought up her house into the conversation. Which was literally every conversation.

Now being able to see the home she always talked about made more sense. If I had a home like hers, I wouldn't be able to stop blabbering about it either. It stretched out into three different wings and had an entire man-made lake as its backyard all to themselves. I strained my neck to look up at the tall structure, nearly going on for forever. The fact that only two people lived there was mind boggling.

She only referred to Anthony by his name or saying "my partner." She never said husband. I knew, even long before she was with her new husband, that she didn't like titles, she just knew she was happy and that was all that mattered. Her and Dakota related in that one way.

Dakota.

I sucked in a dry breath, trying to not think about him. The second we got into the car, grandma had confiscated our phones and said we'd get them back on Sunday morning. She wanted us to have, what she called, "an old fashion trip to grandma's house." Which meant no technology whatsoever, similar to how it was for her when she visited her own grandmother all those years ago.

I wished she would've let me at least tell him I wasn't going to Maine. He was probably waiting on my reply, worried that I'd be gone already.

Dakota could care less if you went back to Maine, my thoughts snapped at me. He's got more important things to worry about than the girl he's 'not involved with.'

My thoughts--though a little harsh--were right. Dakota had better things to think about than me. Until recently, I was seen as the scum of the earth to him. But even after I established that into my head, I still couldn't shake him out of my mind.

Grandma showed me up to the room I'd be sleeping in. She said I could leave a few things in the dresser if I wanted and have this room as my own for whenever I stayed here. I nodded and walked around the spacious room, touching the painted blue walls.

"I want to ask you something." I said, so soft she asked me to repeat myself.

She sat down next to me on the comfy window seat. "What do you want to ask, dear?"

"It's nothing you should take personally."

She only smiled back me, putting her thin hands on mine and squeezing them. "Ask me anyway. I won't be mad."

"After all these years, you never really tried to contact us all that much in Maine. Why the sudden urge to jump back in now?"

"That's not true." She stopped smiling. "I called every birthday. Every holiday. I even sent money a week in advance from your brother's birthday and your birthday and for every holiday. After what happened to poor Lenard, I doubled the amount because I knew he was working and helping you out in any way he could. With him gone, I wanted to step in."

"I never saw any of that money." I dropped her hand and got up to my feet. I needed to breath. This was news to me I'd never known. I began pacing. "Either you're lying to me or--"

"Your mother could've hidden from you." She filled in for me. "It's no surprise. Who do you think paid for her bail money for when she got arrested? I nearly killed your father for not taking you and your brother out of there any sooner. He tried, but with no luck. Your mother convinced him that you didn't want him in your life. She shut him out. She said he'd ruined their marriage, she didn't want him to ruin her kids and desert them like he deserted her."

My feet froze, nailed to the ground when she said that. A lot of my hate for my father came from how he had left for a second time a year after the divorce. My mother tangled herself with the wrong kinds of guys. It inevitably caused her to have some run-ins with the law. When she was arrested, dad flew to Maine and stayed with us so we didn't have to be put into the system. She stayed in jail for a little under a year and we had our father with us during that tough time. It felt perfect with him there with us, dimming the pain for our mother and her current situation. It reminded me of how things were when we were a family. A real one.

For a short period of time, my mother didn't have custody of my brother and I for what she did. Many people thought she was an unfit mother. Eventually, she earned the custody back. I begged and begged my father to take me with him to California. Now I knew it was mother telling him to leave.

"He tried to send letters and money to you guys, along with clothes and school supplies, but he only ever had them sent back." Grandma went on to say. "The both of us tried so hard for so many years. I was close to getting some lawyers on my team to take you from her. She couldn't deny you from us. Before I could do it, your father stopped me. He didn't want to make this a big battle. I can't believe she's even allowed you to come now after all those failed attempts."

I snorted. "She's always been stubborn."

I recalled the times when we barely had enough to scrape by, the days where we didn't have food in the fridge, those conversations where she engraved into me that my father didn't care about me. All of it was a lie.

As I sat there, letting my thoughts destroy me in silence, I wondered what else she'd lied about.

_________

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