Everything about Grandma was tightly controlled—her hair, her clothes, her expressions, her job—all of it. Kristen tried to picture her grandmother with a smudge on her cheek, her silver hair uncombed, a paintbrush forgotten over one ear, which was Mom’s usual day-to-day look, but it was impossible.
Grandma Ellen folded her hands in front of her and put on her best fake smile. “Since you’re home now and we have some extra time, we should talk.”
And there it was—the conversation Kristen had been avoiding since the day of the funeral, saying she had homework or pretending to be tired and heading off to bed at ridiculously early hours, but her excuses were running out. I’m not ready for this argument.
And she knew it was going to be just that—an argument. She picked up her glass of chocolate milk and walked past Grandma Ellen to the dining room.
Grandma Ellen followed, and Kristen could feel her grandmother’s critical gaze moving over the hodgepodge of colorful furniture Mom had collected. Every chair around the large, rustic farm table was painted a different color, the seats covered in decoupage pictures of various movie stars, including Mom’s favorites, Cary Grant and Woody Harrelson. She’d done the work over two nights, never sleeping and barely eating. That was how Mom had done things. When the work “spoke” to her, she was in a frenzy to get it done before the idea and her energy slipped away.
“Come and sit.” Grandma Ellen perched on Cary Grant and patted the seat next to hers. “We need to make some plans.”
Kristen eyed the chair. It was one of her favorites—who didn’t love Ben Stiller?—but she decided against it. If they were going to have this conversation, then she wanted—no, needed—some space between them.
So instead Kristen walked to the other side of the table and sat on Audrey Hepburn. For good measure, she threw her feet onto Orlando Bloom’s chin.
A flash of disapproval crossed Grandma Ellen’s face, but it lasted only a second. Still, that tiny flicker of disapproval felt like a win to Kristen, which only proved how sad her life was right now.
Grandma Ellen put her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together, her collection of gold and diamond rings glittering in the warm light. “You know I can’t stay here in Dove Pond. I’ve mentioned before that I have a big project coming up and I have to be on-site, especially during the beginning phases. I was lucky I could come here right now, but I have to be back in the office by the first week in April, which means”—Grandma Ellen’s smile became more fixed—“that you need to move to Raleigh by then.”
Kristen jammed her hands into her front pocket and clutched the kazoo. “I don’t want to move. My friends are here.”
Sympathy flickered over Grandma Ellen’s face, softening the hard lines. “I know,” she said simply. “This isn’t going to be easy for you. But it’s what’s best for us both. The schools in Raleigh are—”
“I don’t need another school. This one is fine.” More than fine. Dove Pond High School was where she felt safe and at home. She loved her teachers, even the strict ones, and wouldn’t trade them for the world.
Grandma sighed. “You and I both know there are better schools. A student with your abilities could do much better with a more rigorous academic program that—”
“What do you know about my school’s academic program?” Kristen interrupted.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s no match for the private schools in Raleigh. There are over two dozen of them, and I’m sure we can find one that will guarantee you entry into the best colleges out there. Some of them have such good reputations that Harvard and Yale and MIT send recruiters to their college fairs. Can you say that about Dove Pond High?”
Kristen didn’t answer.
Grandma Ellen nodded as if she’d just won the argument. “Once we sell the house—”
“No! And stop saying ‘we.’ This is all you, and you know it.”
Grandma Ellen’s lips thinned. “Kristen, I know this isn’t easy, but it’s what must happen. There are no other options.”
Each word burned through Kristen’s soul like acid, and she stood, her chair scooting noisily across the floor. “What are you going to do? Are you going to make me go to Raleigh? Tie me up and throw me in the back of your Lexus?”
At her raised voice, Floofy, Dangus, and Luffy raised their heads from where they sprawled on the couch in the living room, watching through the open doorway. Even little Chuffy, his gaze wary, wagged his tail hesitantly as if he wished he could help. At least the dogs are on my side. Right now, it felt as if they were the only ones.
Grandma Ellen’s mouth had hardened into a fine line. “We can talk about this without yelling.”
“You’re not the one losing her only home! My friends are here. My job with Ava is here. My school, and my town, and everything I know and love is here. Everything except Mom.” Kristen’s voice cracked, but she ignored it, pulling herself together enough to say loudly, “I don’t want to sell the house and I sure as hell don’t want to move to Raleigh.”
Instead of getting angry, Grandma Ellen merely looked disappointed. “Oh, Kristen.”
There it was again, that judgy tone, which Kristen was beginning to hate almost as much as she hated the thought of moving.
But it was more than that. The less angry Grandma was, the more angry Kristen became. Not once since the funeral had Grandma showed any emotion about Mom’s death. The old woman hadn’t wept or gotten mad or suffered from any of the millions of emotions Kristen was drowning in. If felt as if she were the only person on earth who was really and genuinely sorry Mom was gone. The only one who cared what happened to the house Mom had loved, and the things Mom had collected. For all her polite words, it was obvious Grandma Ellen couldn’t care less.
“Kristen, we need to get the house ready to sell so—”
“Don’t say another word. Just don’t. This isn’t just a house; it’s my home and it’s all I have left of Mom. I don’t want anything painted or fixed up or changed in any way. I love it the way it is.”
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with this house. I’m sure, with a little cleaning and sorting, it could be just lovely. But if we want top dollar for it, then we have to update—”
“No! Have you heard anything I’ve said? I don’t want to sell it!”
Grandma Ellen frowned. “If I could do this any other way, I would. You can’t stay here alone, and it makes no sense to leave this house empty. And don’t suggest we rent it out, because I’m too busy to deal with that all the way from Raleigh.”
“I don’t want to rent it! I don’t want anyone to live here but me. I’m not moving to Raleigh. Not now, not in two months, not ever.”
“Kristen, don’t—” Grandma Ellen caught herself. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I told myself I wouldn’t let this turn into an argument, because it won’t solve anything. I know this is hard. I’m just trying to do what’s best for us both.”
“You don’t know what’s best for me. That was Mom’s job and now it’s mine.”