Page 5 of The Virgin's Baby
“You remember my son, Gerald, right?” she asked.
I barely recalled his name. “Sure, I do.”
“Well, he and his wife just had triplets,” she went on.
Maybe she’s taking a little vacation.“Oh, wow. Well, congratulations on becoming a grandmother,” I offered. Things didn’t seem so glum then.
“Thank you, Aspen,” she continued. “So, you can imagine how hard things are going to be for him and his wife with three brand new babies, right?”
There’s that sinking feeling again.“Right.”
“And they live outside of Dallas. That’s a pretty good ways from here. A bit too far for me to keep up with this place.” She cleared her throat readying herself to hit me with the news I now assumed was going to be very bad.
“Okay,” I whispered, knowing the wind was about to be knocked out of me. “And just what does that mean, Mrs. Pepper?”
With a huff, she told me exactly what that meant. “Okay, here it is. I’ve gotta go out there tomorrow. I’ve already talked to a realtor who is going to put the building on the market and sell it for me. I’m closing down the Dairy Queen effective at nine o’clock tonight. I’m sorry, honey, I am. I’ve already written each of you glowing letters of recommendation. It’s all I can do. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” was all I could say. “Can you send mine with Margo, please?”
“I will,” she said happily like she hadn’t just messed up my world. “Good luck, Aspen. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve got that great education going for you. Don’t sell yourself short. Apply for the jobs that you need that degree to get, honey.”
“K. Bye.” Flipping my phone closed, I went ahead and looked at the second page of the bank statement. “Fifty-six dollars and thirteen cents.”
Fuck my life.
Chapter Three
Ransom
Lubbock, Texas – May 11th
Weird noises met my ears as I entered my grandfather’s bedroom suite. The first room, much like a living room and filled with leather furnishings, was empty. The door on the far wall led to his bedroom. Behind that, I heard what sounded like Darth Vader-breathing.
Giving the door a knock, I asked, “Grandad, you in there?”
After some shuffling sounds, the door opened. And there stood a young woman wearing lilac scrubs. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later. Mr. Whitaker is doing his breathing treatment at the moment. Give us thirty minutes, please.” Then she just closed the damn door in my face.
I knocked again then twisted the doorknob to find it locked. “What the fuck?”
Spinning on my heel when I heard footsteps behind me, I found my grandfather’s assistant coming in the front room. His eyebrows went up when he saw me. “Good, you came.”
I rubbed my brow as frustration swelled inside of me. “Mr. Davenport, what in the name of all that’s holy is going on here?”
“Have you been able to see him?” he asked, instead of answering my question.
“No. That woman wouldn’t let me in. And she’s locked the door.” I threw my hands in the air. “What’s going on? Just tell me already.”
His light blue eyes looked pleadingly at me. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, I’ve been told not to say a thing to you.” He wrung his old, wrinkled hands as he looked down at the floor. “Please, don’t tell him that I called you. I’m afraid he’ll fire me if you do. He was adamant that no one tell you a thing.”
“Fine.” I sat on the sofa, wondering what was happening. “I know how he can be.” My heart felt so heavy I thought it might fall out of my chest. “He’s all I’ve got, you know. After Mom and Dad were killed on their yacht off the African coast, he came to my boarding school to give me the horrible news. I went home with him, and he became both my mother and my father to me. I don’t know what I would do without him.” I looked at the man who’d been in my grandfather’s employ ever since I could recall. “Is this life-threatening?”
“I’m not saying another thing, Ransom. I can’t. Soon, you can talk to him and let him tell you what he wants to.” Mr. Davenport turned and left me sitting there alone, wondering what I was about to hear.
Closing my eyes, I remembered when my grandfather showed up at my dorm at boarding school. I was fifteen and never imagined he was there to bring me terrible news at all. He would come by unexpectedly on occasion to take me out to dinner or to see a movie.
That day he looked different. Pale, shaky, weak—not like my grandfather at all, really.
“Ransom, I’ve got terrible news to tell you, boy.”
