Page 128 of False God

Two men pass by, one of them calling out, “Wonderful party, Arthur.” Grandpa nods in acknowledgment, but his attention remains on me.

“How was Chloe’s wedding?” Grandpa asks.

“It was good.”

He raises both eyebrows. “An awful lot ofgoodgoing around.”

“It was incredible,” I amend. “Wales was beautiful, and the venue Chloe picked looked like something out of a fairy tale. It was just … strange. I’ve known her since we were four. She was the first of my friends to get married.”

Grandpa nods. “Don’t be growing up too fast, Lili. You have plenty of time to accomplish anything you want to.”

“So do you.”

He smiles. “I’m glad you had a good trip. Even happier you’re back in New York. You’ll be at dinner next week?”

I shake my head. “Unfortunately not. I got an interview for the Dublin project. I’m flying there for a few days.”

“Congratulations. That’s fantastic news.”

I nod. “I hope so.” Glance at the stage again. “It’s a big night.”

“It is.” Grandpa nods, his expression now neutral.

My dad and Uncle Oliver have a very different relationship with Grandpa than I do. One I’ve only deciphered bits and pieces of, mostly from whispered conversations between Mom and Aunt Hannah about Arthurthisand Arthurthat. Enough to tell me that Grandpa might be a doting grandfather, but he wasn’t a doting father. Around me, Dad and Grandpa are always civil, often friendly, and occasionally strained.

For some reason, my dad deciding to return to Kensington Consolidated seems to be a strain.

“You wanted Dad to keep working in LA?” I ask.

Grandpa studies me, visibly weighing what to say. We usually confine our conversations to lighter topics. He’s started gardening since he retired, so we talk about the outdoors a lot. Or books he’s read and I’ve listened to. He’s the one who recommendedMiddlemarchto me.

“I wish your father had never moved to LA,” he finally replies.

“Then … aren’t you glad he and Mom are moving back?”

“I am.” Grandpa nods. “But I convinced myself leaving was what your father truly wanted. If that was the case, he wouldn’t be coming back.”

I think back to what Mom said, about her and Dad forging their own paths.

“Maybe he had to leave to know he wanted to come back.”

Grandpa studies me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re very wise, Lili.”

I shrug modestly. “IamArthur Kensington’s granddaughter.”

He chuckles.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Crew.”

I turn from Grandpa to smile at my father.

His eyes soften when he looks at me, and then his jaw tightens when he glances back at Grandpa. “Oliver is looking for you. He has some business associates who would like to meet you.”

Grandpa kisses the top of my head again. “We’ll talk later, Lili. I want to hear more details about your trip. And that Irish project.”

“You know where to find me,” I tell him.

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