Page 14 of Bound

Good times in the multipurpose room.

Gran rolls her eyes. “Junie’s shirt is ruined from the mix of dabber ink and frosting”—she ended up worse for wear trying to play referee—“but otherwise everything else is resolved and happy and they’re not getting kicked out of the school’s multipurpose room after all.”

Bingo is WILD.

“That’s good news.”

“Considering how much work Junie puts into the events,” Gran agrees, “it certainly is.”

“Did you want me to take you next week?” I ask, knowing that used to be one of Gran’s favorite things. “We can play a couple of games, eat a slice of cake”—I feign a casual shrug—“or we could have some fun and ruin another one of Junie’s shirts.”

Gran’s face lights up for a second. But only for a second before that happiness fades. “No,” she says. “I’ll get too tired and—” She puts down her tea, shakes her head. “No, honey. Thanks for offering but it won’t work out.”

“Junie could save you a spot by the exit,” I tell her. Because it’s true. Because Junie is her ride and die and just as much of a mother figure as Gran is in my life. “We could go for a bit, head out if you get tired?—”

“No, sweetheart,” she says. “Thank you, but no.”

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble at all. I’m not working that night.” The Breakers have an off night in their jam-packedschedule leading toward the back half of the season. “I can just?—”

“That’s okay, honey.”

“Really, though.” I know I’m pushing, but I can’t help it. I want her to have fun. She hasn’t had much of that over the last few years. “I don’t mind.”

“Another time,” she says. “Now tell me?—”

“But—”

“Claire!” she snaps. “Just stop.”

I flinch at the sharp tone, nearly spilling my tea on myself. Gran rarely raises her voice and even more rarely speaks to me like that. I push down the hurt, know that it’s my fault for being a pushy ahole.

How many times had she said no nicely?

Exhaling, I set my mug down. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she says, reaching across the table and taking my hand. “I’msorry.”

I shake my head. “I was being pushy.”

Her mouth ticks up. “And who was responsible for teaching you your pushy skills, my darling girl?”

Lightness in my belly, pushing out the guilt. “I prefer to think of it as you taught me have to a backbone, Gran.”

A soft laugh, her fingers tightening around mine. “My wonderful girl.”

My heart squeezes as she pulls back and picks up her mug again.

“I have ice cream in the freezer,” she says, a familiar mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

I exhale in relief then force my tone to be light. “Wheel of Fortune and empty calories?”

“Is there anything better?”

No.

No, there isn’t.

There’s nothing better than sitting with the only person in the world who knows every part of me while guessing word puzzles and consuming copious amounts of empty calories.

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