Page 114 of From Best Friend to Bride
“Oh, you are, dear?” Nana asked, finally looking in my direction.
My direction.
Not at me.
She was too ashamed to meet my eye.
“Nana.”
Granny sighed and patted Nana’s hand. “Fine, fine. She’s got a little bit of a chest infection, that’s all. I forgot they give you instructions at the darn pharmacy.”
“And it’s just as well, or I wouldn’t have any idea!” I threw my arms in the air then dropped myself onto the sofa opposite them. “Do Mum and Lucy know?”
“Your mother knows,” Nana said slowly, popping her lips a couple of times. “Lucy… I’d prefer not to tell her unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want to worry her, what with the baby and all that.”
“Okay, fine, I accept that, but why the hell didn’t you tell me? You practically live here now, Nana. And, Granny—did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Granny cleared her throat, and for a moment, she looked exactly like Fred when he was trying to get out of trouble. “That was the hope we were running with, yes.”
“Idiots,” I said sharply. “Then why did you send me to get the prescription?”
“It was a moment of madness. A slip of the brain. I am old, you know. I forget things.”
“You? Old? Wasn’t it just yesterday you were telling me I couldn’t stop you day-drinking because you’re eighteen at heart?”
She delicately touched her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyes at me. “No, sweetie, you misheard me.”
“How convenient.” My tone was dry, and she glanced away at the utter derision that was probably radiating off me. “Well, no more day drinking. You can’t drink with antibiotics.”
Nana sighed dramatically. “This chest infection is ruining my life.”
Granny turned to her. “I thought the cancer would be the bigger issue, Judy.”
“I’ve already beaten it twice. I got best out of three,” Nana retorted. “But this coughing is driving me batty.”
As if to prove her point, she had a small coughing fit that resulted in Granny rubbing slow circles on her back and me helping her sip water.
“You’re still not day drinking,” I said, putting the cup back on the table. “Not until your antibiotics are done. Actually, I’m not sure you should be drinking with your other meds, either.”
Nana patted my cheek. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m dying anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”
I sighed and dropped my chin to my chest.
It was increasingly difficult to argue that.
Because every day we got a little bit closer to the day she’d leave us forever.
“Fine, fine.” I held up my hands and scooted back. “You can day drink once the antibiotics are done.”
“Woohoo!”
Granny offered her a high-five, and I witnessed the cutest touching of hands in celebration that my eyes would ever see.
“I’m leaving. I have to shower before work,” I said, getting up. “Behave yourselves. If you need anything, call me, all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m in good hands here,” Nana assured me.
“All right.” I kissed her wrinkly cheek and headed for the door. “Be good, Granny.”
