Page 79 of Home Tears

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What do I owe you? This is your third visit. I owe you something.”

“You promised to tell me who my father is.”

“Oh,” Sandra cursed under her breath. “I promised you that? Didn’t I let something slip last time? Does that count?”

“It doesn’t. You called him ‘Emmy’, but I don’t know any Emmy.”

“Sure you do. You just don’t know their full names.”

Dani’s eyebrows pinched forward. She frowned. “Are you going to tell me who my father is?”

“No.” Sandra plopped her foot onto Dani’s lap. “I need to raise my legs. My doc said something about elevating the edema.”

Her hands came to rest on her grandmother’s feet. “You promised me.”

“I’m a liar. Part of the reason why I’m in this place.”

“I deserve to know—”

“You don’t deserve a goddamn thing.” Sandra pulled her feet down and leaned forward. She shouted, “I deserve to have my daughters by my side, but where are they?!”

“One’s dead. Another’s dying. And who knows when Mae’s name is up.”

Sandra fell still.

Dani knew she was supposed to stop. She shouldn’t talk like that to her grandmother, but she couldn’t. The words spilled out in rhythm with her heartbeat. It was speeding up. She was fed up. “You already lost one daughter. Maybe you could begin bridging the gap with your family by starting with me.”

“By telling you who your daddy is?”

“Yes!” Dani shoved out of her chair. It screeched across the floor and hit against the wall with a bang. “Shit.” She bit down on her lip. She hadn’t meant to do that.

“If you pick it up and slam it against the wall, it feels a lot better.”

“What?”

Her grandmother didn’t blink. “I’m serious. You could even throw it at the window—won’t do a darn good. They got ‘em covered with thick plastic or something so no one can throw themselves out the window. We just bounce off like rubber birds. It’s not a good feeling when you go splat on the floor.”

“Are you insane?”

Sandra gave her a ‘duh’ look. “Yeah.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossible and crazy should be synonyms of each other.” Sandra tipped her head back and chuckled. “Henri’s impossible. Thinks she sees damn angels.”

Dani’s chest was heaving. No one came to check on the noise, so she retrieved her chair and pulled it back in front of her grandmother.

Sandra murmured as she sat back down, “Henrietta tells me every day that my girls are around. Daniella and Erica. Can you imagine that? Talk about delusional. I don’t see things that don’t exist. When I’m out of it, I see people from my past. More possible than Henri. She’s nuts.”

“I’d like to know who my father is.”

Sandra sobered, her eyes flicking to Dani’s. “You can’t handle that yet.”

“I can, too.”

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