Page 24 of Always Be an Us

"I’m sorry I lied to you about my age," she says. "I thought you wouldn’t take me seriously if you knew I was only thirteen."

"As much as you shouldn’t have done it, I understand. But that’s not what this is about. I’m going to have to call your dad this time and tell him where you are."

She sighs. "Alright. By the time he gets here, maybe Grandpa will have finished the rest of his story."

I offer her a smile this time. Crafty kid. "Maybe. Although I’m not entirely sure that’s possible. Grandfather likes to go off on tangents."

"Yeah, I noticed."

I open my palm and she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone. She unlocks it for me and opens the contacts, the most recent of which is 'Terminator Dad.'

I press it and hold it to my ears.

It only rings twice before he answers. "Amelia."

Even his voice has energy coursing through me. "Erm..it’s not Amelia."

There’s a few seconds of silence and then, "Shit."

"Yeah," is all I say to that. "She’s over here again. I’m guessing she didn’t tell you this time either."

"No, she didn’t," Amelia is looking at the doorway as we talk, investigating it like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

"You wanna talk to her?" I ask.

"No. Let her stay there. I’ll be right over."

And with that, he hangs up.

"A please and thank you would be nice," I murmur at the receiver as I hand it back over to Amelia.

"Dad’s not big on please and thank yous," she says with the same apologetic-ness as that day by the lake.

I smile.

"The tea is almost ready," Grandpa calls from the kitchen and I gesture my head to Amelia. "Come on. Let’s go have some hot chocolate. Or as Grandpa calls it, tea."

We head to our small kitchen where Grandpa is already filling a kettle with water from the tap. Amelia's eyes travel around the cluttered, colorful room with its mismatched pastel pans and shout of yellow wallpaper. The scent of cinnamon and eggnog drifts in the air. I’ve always liked our whimsical kitchen, but I imagine it's probably too shabby for a girl like Amelia.

"Don’t expect too much," I joke. "As you can tell from the decor, we’re not exactly serving five-star fare over here."

"I think it’s wonderful," Amelia says, sitting on a stool and laying the journal on the kitchen island. I would think she’s just being nice except for the awe in her voice

As Grandpa brews the hot chocolate, I spend much of the time asking Amelia about herself. She is indeed thirteen years old, and I learn that her parents are divorced and have joint custody. Her school offers a hybrid program where she studies partway at home and partway in person. It suits her lifestyle because she has to constantly travel.

"But it’s fine," she says as Grandpa slides a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of her. "We’re on vacation now so I can spend some time with my dad. That's why I'm here."

Grandpa hands me my cup and then pulls up his own stool.

I sip my hot cocoa savoring the warm sweet thick liquid on my tongue.

Amelia looks at him expectantly and Grandpa clears his throat preparing his spiel.

"It was a dark–"

"And stormy night, yes, we're already past that," I say and wink at Amelia, who giggles.

Grandpa isn’t a bit deterred by my tone and forges on. "On such a night the Loyalty Ball was in full swing. This is the ball that the Grand Pearl held every year for its loyal patrons. Of course, it was a chance for the fancy schmancy tourists to wear their fancy schmancy outfits and rub shoulders with each other.

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