Page 28 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“He was screwing the girl who hated me,” she says with a bite in her tone.

“So you went with Jim Coates to junior prom.”

“Damn right, I did. It’s why he gives you a discount.” She sighs. “If you ever wondered why the old man was nice to you. Now you know why.”

I grab her nightgown and toiletries. Pull her wheelchair. I catch her gazing out the window like she’s reliving a memory. Now I know why the old man gives me a discount. He always said it was because our businesses were in the same strip mall and wanted to help out the locals.

“So how come you didn’t end up with Jim?”

“I turned him down.”

“Why?”

“Because I was in love with your grandfather,” she confesses.

“Did you and Jim…” I trail off when she looks up. I can see it in her eyes. She would never have slept with Jim if she had been in love with Noah Webster.

“What’s this I hear about a date Friday night?” she asks, changing the subject.

My cheeks heat. My ears burn, and my lips break into a shy smile as I push the wheelchair against the bed. “I’m going out to dinner with Officer Mays.”

I carefully transfer her to the wheelchair. Our eyes meet. My heart sinks when she sees the truth written on my face. “You don’t look excited.”

“I am,” I lie like a piece of cake you’re forced to try yet don’t want to hurt the person’s feelings by telling them that it’s horrible.

“I know when you’re excited. I saw it that night.” I glance at the picture she has of me in my mother’s prom dress on her nightstand. I quickly blink back the moisture from my eyes. How happy I was in the photo only to have it crushed by the horror as soon as I stepped out of the house. “He isn’t Ford Keller.”

“No, Grandma. He isn’t.” I don’t want him to be.

“I heard he’s back in town,” she says like she was in the bakery with me when he showed up.

“Gossip travels through trees around here.”

“It sure does,” she says as I push the wheelchair to the bathroom, wiping the tears that manage to escape behind her back. I hate that I keep secrets from her. The weight of them left an indelible stain on my soul next to the scars. “Has he been by to see you at the bakery?”

“He has…” I turn the water on, drowning the thoughts of Ford. The thoughts of that night.

“And?”

I place the shower chair in the center of the shower and let the water warm the seat. “He ordered.”

“You turned him down,” she says quietly, removing her clothes and placing them on the chair.

“It was one night, and nothing happened. He is not for me, Grandma.”

“You’re right. Mary heard someone at the clinic say he knocked up the mayor’s daughter.”

I drop the body wash.

“I heard she lost it. Everyone said he never liked her. He broke up with her before, though. Who knows,” she says with a little shrug. “She was a snobby thing. Poor girl.”

My hands tremble. “What else did Mary say?” I hope it’s not about that night I asked her not to say anything or the day I had to go to the ER. Please, God. Please…

“Nothing much. She did tell me to keep reminding you to go to the doctor for a checkup. Once a year, Dulce.”

“Yes, Grandma.”

“I remember when I had a period cramp that bad. It looked like pig’s blood spilled all over the toilet. It went away after I had your mother.” She looks up. “Did you know that?”

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