Page 9 of Stick Work

When he sets her down, she beams at him, her love practically glowing in the air arcing between them. Elias steps back, his teasing grin lighting up his face as he surveys her.

“Grandma, are you getting taller?” he jokes, his tone brimming with affection.

She swats at him playfully, her laughter rippling out like a melody. Then, with a mock-seriousness, she narrows her eyes at him. “Are you getting taller?” she counters, her voice tinged with the same mischief he carries.

He chuckles. “No, Grandma. I stopped growing in my teens. But I wouldn’t feel like I was home if you didn’t ask.”

I chuckle, remembering how my grandma used to ask Kalen that whenever he came home from college.

Cloudy blue eyes shift to me, and I brace myself under their kind but penetrating gaze. Elias had warned me about meeting his parents, but he’d failed to mention his grandmother lived with them, or how close he was to her. The warmth in her expression surprises me, easing the tension in my shoulders.

“And who do we have here?” she asks, her voice soft and welcoming.

“Grandma, this is my girlfriend, Taylor Turner. Taylor, this is Gladys—my grandma. But most people mistake her for my sister.”

She gives him a light smack on the arm. “This one,” she teases, rolling her eyes fondly. “Always the sweet talker.” She winks at me. “You’d be wise to be careful with him.”

I grin, knowing Elias would never do anything to hurt me.

Elias laughs, but it fades quickly. “Wait, didn’t Mom and Dad tell you I was bringing Taylor home for the weekend?”

“They did,” she replies, her lips twitching with a sly smile that gives me pause. She’s elderly, but I sense she’s wise and crafty, and not much gets by her. Her glance goes from me to Elias and then back to me. Everything in the way she’s studying us with watchful eyes worries me. Could she be on to us?

“Good,” Elias responds.

“But I had to see for myself.” The fine lines around her eyes tighten as she steps closer, extending her arms toward me. I hesitate for just a moment, then realize she’s beckoning me in for a hug. When I step into her embrace, her frail but steady frame presses against me, and an overwhelming wave of emotion nearly throws me off balance. The warmth of her hug takes me back to Darien, Connecticut, to my own grandmother’s arms, to a love I haven’t felt in far too long.

“Grandma,” Elias warns lovingly.

“What?” Gladys pulls back, her smile tender as she looks me over. “You can’t blame me for needing to see her to believe it.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gladys.”

She leans into me, her words conspiratorial. “He doesn’t bring women home, you know.” She holds up a finger. “Unless we’re counting that time he snuck Suzanne into his room.”

“Oh my God, no..” Elias runs agitated fingers through his hair. “Can we not?”

“Don’t worry.” The glint in her eyes brings worry to Elias. “I’m not going to tell all your secrets.”

“How about you don’t tell any of them.”

I laugh. “Oh, I really want to hear his secrets.”

Gladys leans into me again, and whispers. “Oh, you will, love. You will.” Inching back, she has that knowing look in her eyes again as she adds, “You must be very special to him.”

Elias clears his throat, and I can almost feel the weight of his guilt at our charade. “She is special, Grandma,” he says softly.

“Good,” she replies, squeezing my hand. “Then you, Taylor, can call me Grandma.”

The words hit me like a gentle wave, yet they stir a deep ache inside me. Without thinking, my hand moves to my chest as if to steady the tightening there.

“Something wrong?” she asks, concern in her eyes as they move over my face.

I swallow hard, pushing past the lump in my throat. “I haven’t called anyone ‘Grandma’ in a long time,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.

Her face softens, her hand still holding mine. “Oh, darling, if you’d rather not?—”

“No,” I interrupt, clutching her hand. “I do. I’d really like that.”

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