Page 96 of Cabin Fever

"They're booties."

I was under the impression not many people said no to her, so I let it go.

It was time for me to get to the point. "I assume you are here to evict me."

If she wanted me off of her property, I would need time to find a new farm. Perhaps she would let me rent this cabin from her in exchange for tending to the sheep. I could offer her a percentage of the sale of wool.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how foolish I was for not signing that will. She already had more money than anyone I had ever known. My father explained our family history when I was a kid. I knew we came from money, I just never realized my dad had any of his own.

Now she had more, and I had none. But I feared what that money would do to me. I might become corrupt like those politicians who were after my father.

"It seems you have been misinformed. I don't know how much your father told you about me, but I would never abandon my family." Her jaw tightened and she glanced over my shoulder. "It seems your timer is up."

I heard it go off, but I let her words sink in.Family. I had family. When my father died, I felt alone, not remembering that my grandmother was just a phone call away. My father warned me never to contact anyone for my own safety, so to reach out to her didn't seem possible.

I stood and put my attention on pouring the coffee into the mugs. Before I sat back down, I placed a cup in front of her with just a splash of milk, as per her request.

"If you aren't here to kick me out, then why did you come?"

With a shake of her head, she frowned. "Because you are my grandson and I have missed you. I had no idea if you were alive or dead. When I last saw you, you had a baby tooth missing. With so much excitement, you explained that the tooth fairy gave you a gold coin. You were adorable and kind and it broke my heart when your father ran away with you. I know why he did it, but I told him I would help, that both of you would be safe. But he wouldn't listen. When he dashed away during the night, I had to face the day without knowing if I would see him or you ever again."

I never thought she would be hurt, too. My father only spoke of the bad people back home. The ones that, if they found out we were alive, would come after us.

"He told you why he left?"

My grandmother reached for her mug and nodded, bringing it to her lips. Her eyes widened as she swallowed the hot liquid.

"Yes. I'm his mother. He could trust me. Just as you can trust me. It may have been twenty-two years ago, but I still love you as much as I did when you were that boy with the missing tooth. Whatever you want, it's yours."

My heartbeat grew, and I rubbed at my neck as it burned. I didn't know if I would end up laughing like the madman I'd felt like the past few days or cry like a child. I had to find out if she meant what she was telling me.

"I want this farm, this cabin. Dad and I built it. I would hate to see it torn down for a resort or whatever rich people do to property they own."

Her head swiveled and she stood. My grandmother began to explore the room around her. Touching the walls as she moved. "My God, my son built this. The boy who would never get his head out of books and wanted to serve his country by enacting laws to help people, ended up creating this building with his hands."

"We did have help. It wasn't only us. I feel I oversold that . . ."

I didn't want her to get the wrong idea about my dad. He was a bookworm until his dying breath. But when we moved here, he wanted a cabin quickly, so he hired a few laborers and got to work learning to build a cabin from the ground up.

"He still helped build this. And you did, too. You are so different than I thought you'd be."

"How did you imagine me?"

She sighed and walked back to the table. "I feared the worst. That you had shut yourself up here. Some crazy loner that was willing to give away lots of money. Maybe you'd be wearing a tinfoil hat or some other nonsense. I'm sorry for thinking that of you."

As she described what she feared, I realized she wasn't far off. And, if I didn't do something about it, that's what I'd turn into.

"I assumed the worst in you, too. I thought you wanted my father to leave. That you felt my father was a burden because of what happened. And, therefore, I was a burden, too."

"Whatever made you think that?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "He mentioned you were hurt and angry after the shooting. Dad said it was for the best we left because he didn't want to upset you more and burden you. I was only a child. I thought he meant you were angry at him."

She waved me up and opened her arms. I stepped forward and my grandmother enveloped my in her arms. "All this time we both were confused and lost in our own misguided notions. I could never be angry at you or Lorne. Please, don't leave me now that I've found you again."

My grandmother lifted her head. She was small and my throat tightened at the sadness in her eyes.

"I won't leave, I promise."

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