Page 2 of The Seal's Promise

“Well, I am seventy-one, you know, so I forget sometimes, but I do vaguely recall calling you one night after accidentally mixing my medicine with my margaritas.”

Dalton sighed. “Gran, you weren’t drunk when we spoke last, you were worried. So we need to talk about what’s going on,” he said with a calm tone. He was starting to suspect he’d fallen into a trap. “If you’re sick or dying I want to be here for you.”

“Technically we’re all dying, Dalton, I mean, who is to say this won’t be my last night on this earth?”

“Grandma Hart, what is going on?”

She stood and refolded the dish towel that was already neatly hanging from the side of her farm-style sink.

“First things first, you have to promise not to tell your brothers or anyone else.” She pointed a finger at him. “As my doctor you have to keep my medical information private.”

Dalton crossed his arms. “Technically I’m not your doctor, but I’ll agree to your terms for now.”

She leaned back against the old butcher-block counter.

“Last year I started to notice that I was forgetting things and having some trouble with my vision. But my doctor said that was normal in our later years, and my eye doctor gave me these darn reading glasses.” She patted the glasses hanging around her neck on a gold chain.

“But…”

“Well, I still don’t feel right. So, I was googling my symptoms and a few things popped up from dementia to heart disease, glaucoma, blood clots, you name it.”

“Gran, you can’t self-diagnose your health problems online. What do you mean, exactly, that you don’t feel right?”

About an hour later, Dalton still knew almost nothing about his grandmother’s health, but hewascaught up on a decade’s worth of town gossip, and had polished off two helpings of home cooking. Although she liked to give off a cosmopolitan, posh grandmother vibe, she was as traditional as they came. There was even a homemade peach pie sitting atop the glass dessert stand in the center of the kitchen table next to a pitcher full of wildflowers.

“I can’t tell if you’re being dodgy about what’s really going on with you because you’re in denial and terrified, or if this was all some big ruse to get me to agree to come home,” he challenged her.

Brushing away a swoop of her flowy silver hair that stopped just above her shoulders, she feigned innocence.

“Dalton, I would never lie to you about something like this.”

“Oh no, but youwouldlie about other things?”

“Omission is not a lie, neither is avoidance.”

“Alright, we’re going to go see your doctor and get a full workup done this week.”

“I’ve already had a full workup, all of my blood tests done, and I’m up to date on all my medical appointments.”

“I want to review it all. Maybe we need to see a specialist.”

“The hospital is short-staffed, so we’ll need to head into Savannah if we’re looking for anything beyond my primary care doctor.”

“Then we’ll do just that. Now tell me what’s going on with Levi—he doesn’t really communicate much beyond texts. He had a great season last year.”

She let out a deep breath as if she was happy to change the subject.

“We’re going to need pie for this one.”

Before he could ask why, the screen door opened and the massive form of his oldest brother, Wes, appeared. His shoulders were so broad he needed to turn his body as he entered the large eat-in kitchen, which immediately seemed more cramped.

His brother’s light brown eyes fell on him as he removed his work belt. Both his gun and his sheriff’s badge gleamed.

“Did you save me any crab cakes?” Wes asked.

“Wesley, I think what you meant to say was hello to your brother before you start asking about dinner,” their gran said, one hand on her hip.

“Dalton, oh yah, that is you! I almost didn’t recognize you; it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’m shocked you actually remembered how to find this place anymore.”

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