Page 107 of Not Another Yesterday
“Morai?” I say quietly while plates are passed around.
She turns her gaze to me, smiling softly. “What, baby boy?”
“Have you seen Cat?”
“I sent her on some errands with Miranda.”
I almost choke on my breath. “What?”
It comes out way louder than I meant it to. The entire table goes dead quiet.
My grandma’s expression doesn’t change except for that sly twinkle in her brown eyes. “I sent Cat and Miranda to pick up the cake and the flowers,” she repeats, even though we both know I didn’t need her to repeat anything. I needed an explanation.
“Uh-oh,” Shane mutters.
I don’t spare him a glance. I flex my jaw. “Morai, mind if we have a quick talk?”
I don’t wait for an answer. The chair scrapes loudly against the floorboards as I stand, then march out of the dining room.
“You’re in trouble now, Mom,” my dad chuckles.
“Oh hush, Frankie,” she chirps, then follows me into the living room where I’m already pacing. Three steps to the left, stop, turn, three steps to the right. Repeat.
She stands there with an innocent look that we both know she has no business wearing. She’s fucking meddling.Again.
“Morai,” I growl. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m not doing anythingtoyou, Ran. I sent the girls on an errand because those two need to be forced to spend some time together without you fogging up their brains with… well, you.”
This is such a bad idea. “What do you mean?”
“They need a good talk.”
I stop pacing, exasperated. “Okay? About what?”
“About you, obviously,” she says likeduh.
I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. “God, Morai, you’re such a meddler.”
“Baby boy, I have been on this earth quite a bit longer than you. I have a very unique perspective, especially when it comes to you. And my meddling, so far, has done you how much harm?”
“…None,” I grit out.
“Exactly. Trust me when I tell you that Cat and Miranda need this. It’s clear to me that both girls care about you deeply. Each knows you in a way the other doesn’t, and I think this will help ease some of Cat’s… worries,” she says meaningfully.
My brow creases. I get the distinct impression my grandma knows, or at least suspects, that I… slipped… a couple of days ago. She probably suspected as much when I came back from Miranda’s cabin in the middle of the damn night, but that’s not the point right now.
“When did you send them out?” I ask, pulling my phone from my back pocket.
She crosses her arms, popping one hip out. “They left at around ten.”
I start to dial Cat’s number, then think better of it and dial Miranda’s instead. Straight to voicemail. Damn it.
“See?” I hold up my phone like I just won some sort of twisted game. “No answer. One’s probably dead while the other’s on the run. And you know what’s worse? I couldn’t tell you which one’s which.”
I’m obviously making an idiot of myself because my grandma starts to laugh. It doesn’t exactly make me feel better.
“Oh baby boy,” she says, and pats my cheek. “You worry too much.”
