Page 32 of The Usual Family Mayhem

I couldn’t think of a worse idea.

Chapter Sixteen

Jackson left fifteen minutes later. We didn’t resolve anything or tackle the open questions we had for each other. Hearing from Micah flipped everything upside down. I didn’t have time to sit around and discuss Jackson’s dating life or even poison. Not when my worlds were about to collide. That meant rushing Jackson out of the house and promising we’d talk as soon as Ihandled this one thing.

Now I had to figure out how to handle that thing. That meant I needed a strategy. That would require more muffins.

I slipped back into the house and headed for the airtight container holding the sugary goodness. I removed one and eyed the coffeemaker. A second cup couldn’t hurt.

“You’re not ready.”

Gram. She walked into the room wearing her Sunday finest. A sky-blue dress and matching sky-blue jacket. I couldn’t see her shoes or purse from this angle, but I would bet the house they shared the same color palette. The woman never actually ventured into a clothing store, so I had no idea how she found these ensembles. They just appeared and she stepped out looking put together and ready to socialize every single time.

She glanced at the clock on the stove. “The service starts at eleven.”

Let the arguing begin.

She considered Sunday church service sacred. She had to be sick and near death to miss the sermon. She loved the music and the community. The rituals and the promises. She attended because she’d been raised to go but also because she wanted to be there.

I wasn’t going and she knew it.

Devoutdescribed her, not me. I believed. Gram’s guidance and years of church classes guaranteed that, but the institution of the church didn’t bring me any comfort. Not like it did for her. All too often I ran up against the way people acted at Sunday service versus who they were in the real world. The hypocrisy kept me at home.

“Kasey?” Gram set her—yep, sky-blue—purse on the kitchen counter as she glanced at my uneaten muffin. “Did you plan to drive separately?”

“Gram.”

She snorted. “It’s one day a week, Kasey. You can make the time.”

Here. We. Go.

I loved this woman with every breath in my body. I would fight for her. I’d rescue her, even if that meant wading into the bizarre world of men poisoning. I mean, she’d have a good excuse, right? A righteous, churchgoing woman wouldn’t poison men just for fun.

Bottom line: I owed her my life. She saved me when things were the bleakest. She reached out from her hurricane of grief and made me feel loved and wanted. But she couldn’t sell me on this topic. She’d tried, and usually I caved to her stronger will, but today I would hold firm on this.

Her mouth stretched into a thin line. “We’ve discussed thismany times. Edmund Dennison is not indicative of people of faith.”

The man who was more sperm donor to me than father. She never referred to him as my father. She spelled out his full name most times she was forced to use it, and she made sure that didn’t happen very often. I got it. I wanted to separate from every part of him, too. His last name, which I dropped in favor of Gram’s years ago. My eyes and chin that looked like his. His bloodline. His supposed love for the church.

The man who burned the house down with my mom’s lifeless body inside had sung in the church choir, served on church committees, and volunteered for church activities.

He destroyed everything he touched. Being in prison for the last twenty years removed him from society but his legacy continued to screw up my life in big and small ways.

I swallowed a sigh. “You know how I feel about this subject.”

“Raising you and going to church were the two things that saved me after Nora died.”

My mom. Gram’s only child. My heart ached for Gram. I mourned the memories I never had a chance to create with Mom. Gram mourned their stolen future as the memories of what little time they did have together slowly faded.

“I’m happy the church brings you peace or solace or whatever you get out of it.”

“But you’re still reluctant to come with me.” Gram snorted a second time, which was a good sign because it meant she was ticked off, not sad. “I’d hoped you’d outgrow this.”

Not the first time I’d heard that. The guilt nearly dropped me to my knees whenever she said it. Time made the commenteasier to take but disappointing her, doing or saying anything that wiped the smile from her face, was my nightmare.

“You’re an adult.” She snatched her purse off the counter. “You make your own decisions.”

She didn’t really mean that. It was the line she used when I did something she didn’t like. It basically meant I was screwing up and she’d wait to fix whatever mess I made.

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