Page 11 of Salvation
I shift my weight at the mention of my grandmother.
“Oh? Are you a friend of hers?”
“Not exactly.” He shakes his head, and I watch him closely. “I’m her brother.”
My mouth falls open, and I stand there gaping, unable to form words. Charles probably thinks I’m an uncultured swine, but I couldn’t close it if I tried. I didn’t know my grandmother had any family, let alone a brother. Not that my grandmother and I had the type of relationship where we talked about secret brothers. Most of the time, we hardly spoke at all unless there was some order I was meant to follow.
Charles chuckles, and it warms something inside of me. Throughout the years I spent living with my grandmother, I don’t think I ever heard her laugh. Not once.
“I see I’ve stunned you,” Charles says with a smile.
“No, I—” I stop, not knowing what to say. “You know what, why don’t you come in so we can talk?”
Charles nods, his face suddenly serious, and then I see it—the similarities to my grandmother—and I wonder how I missed it before.
“I think that might be best.”
Stepping aside, I let him in and close the door behind us.
“I don’t have any refreshments. I need to go to the store. I just—haven’t.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks.
“It’s alright, dear. I’m fine. Is there a place we might sit?”
“Of course. Right this way.” I lead him back to the formal dining room and take a seat opposite him at the table.
Once we are settled, I start up the conversation by blurting out the question that’s plaguing me. “Why haven’t I met you before?”
The kindness in his eyes turns a little sad, and I almost regret asking—but I can’t take it back. I need to know.
“Your grandmother and I had a complicated relationship.”
I can’t stop the snort that slips out. “That seemed to be the only kind of relationship she knew.” Charles frowns, and I regret opening my mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
My gaze darts around the room, avoiding looking at my grandmother’s brother as I try to cool the heat in my cheeks. When I finally bring my gaze back to him, I find him studying me.
“You shouldn’t apologize for saying how you feel. I—of all people—know how my sister could be, but she wasn’t always like that. Not until she married your grandfather, and then suddenly, appearance and money became much more important to her.”
“Did you grow up with money?”
A wrinkle pulls between his brows, a look of confusion marring his face. “Is that what your grandmother told you?”
I shake my head. “No—we—um—we never talked much.”
“Oh, Jane.” The sadness in his voice when he says my grandmother’s name makes me ache for a woman I never actually knew, and for the first time since she passed, that sadness grips my chest.
“Will you tell me about her?” The question is nearly a whisper, but it lands like a weight between us. We both know I’m not asking to know the woman I grew up with. I knew her. She was cold and unapproachable. I want to know who she was before.
“I would love to.” Smiling at him, I settle into my seat and wait for him to continue. “I suppose the first thing you should know is that your grandmother did not always live in suchluxury. We grew up poor—dirt poor—but we were happy. At least, I was. Our parents loved us, and they tried—to me, that’s what mattered. But Jane always said she would find a way out. I believed her, too. Whatever she wanted, she found a way to get. She met your grandfather, and despite Momma and Daddy telling her he wasn’t the man she thought he was, she saw it as her way out.”
“What did they mean by that? About him not being the man she thought he was?”
He lifts one brow and stares at me. “You met your grandfather.”
He’s right, I did, and he had a habit of putting on a persona in public that wasn’t the same inside our home. To the public, he was the perfect Christian man, but at home, he was just plain mean. He was never abusive, but he ruled his house with an iron fist, and everyone was expected to fall in line.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I did.”
