That feeling of just how out of place I am here snakes through me all over again, but I have no time to dwell on it. Moments after we’ve stepped into the dining room, the sound of the front door opening and shutting has my attention. My heart starts to race. All the anticipation and buildup about meeting Rose has done a number on my nerves.
Charlotte pops onto her toes as excitement lights up her face. “Oh, good. She’s back. Time for breakfast.” She scrambles over to the nearest seat and pulls it out for me. “Go on. Have a seat. I’ll run and get the food.”
I take my seat as she runs out of the room just as a stranger—my grandmother—enters the room, makes her way around the table, and sits across from me. The corners of her mouth are slightly upturned, but I’m struggling to figure out if she’s smiling or not.
She doesn’t say a word while she looks me over as if trying to remember me from some past life. I do the same to her. With cotton-ball hair, dark-gray eyes, and the skin of a middle-aged woman, she is, in fact, a stunning sight. The woman may be in her upper sixties, but she doesn’t look a day over fifty.
While I feel like I’m staring back at a stranger, Rose’s curious expression makes me feel as if she doesn’t consider me a stranger at all.
“You are more beautiful than I imagined." She speaks articulately, matter-of-factly, and with a tinge of a Greek accent. “It’s as if I’m looking at your mother’s reflection.”
As nervous as I am, I find the strength to respond. “Is it? I was always curious about what my mother looked like when she was younger. She didn’t have any photos.”
Rose brightens as she nods. “Well, you are the spitting image.” She leans back slightly and reaches for her glass of water. “I have plenty of photos. You’re welcome to all of them.”
Relief makes its way through me. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I met Rose, but she isn’t nearly as intimidating as I imagined. “Thank you—” I nearly call her Grandma, but I stop myself. “Is it okay if I call you Rose?”
Rose wrinkles her nose and waves a hand in the air. “Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable, dear.” Her gaze drops to where I’m tugging on my bracelet, still trying to remove it from my wrist like a dirty stain. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It was my mother’s.” I look down at it, focusing on the clasp. “The clasp is broken though, and the chain is strong. I can’t seem to remove it.”
“Perhaps you should take it as a sign.”
I meet Rose’s gaze. “She gave this to me the day she died.” My chest feels shaky with emotion. “I don’t want to wear it anymore.”
“But you must, Katrina. Your mother never took it off, and neither should you.”
I frown. “But she doesn’t even know where it came from.”
Rose nods. “She always believed it kept her safe. It will keep you safe too.”
My breath catches in my chest at how much Rose knows. “That’s just a silly superstition. Look what happened as soon as she removed it. She died. I don’t want that reminder.”
My grandmother’s eyes soften. “You shouldn’t think of it as a burden. It was a gift, the last thing your mother ever gave you, and she did so with good intention. The meaning behind that should never be lost. If it was your mother’s final wish for you to wear it, then that’s what you will do.” Then her cheeks lift enough for me to know she’s attempting to lighten the mood. “You must be starved. I believe Charlotte whipped us up some of your favorites.”
I think I catch a wink from Rose, but it happens so quickly, I can’t be sure. My stomach tightens. How does she know what my favorites are? Rose looks over her shoulder just as Charlotte walks out with a large tray of food. I see bacon, eggs, and waffles with a side of blueberries. Not exactly the most original meal, but the meal is, in fact, my favorite.
Charlotte doesn’t join us to eat as I expect. Instead, she leaves us to our meal and walks back into the kitchen.
I fumble my napkin as I unfold it and place it on my lap. If there’s one thing my mom taught me well, it’s proper manners. If only I can get my nerves to cooperate, I might stand a chance of disguising my natural awkwardness. I pick up my fork and lift my gaze back to Rose. “You have a beautiful home.” I can’t help but wonder if she knows how my mom and I lived back in Silver Lake.
“Thank you, Katrina. I do hope you will make yourself comfortable. This is your home now too.”
I nod, appreciative of her hospitality, while also calculating when the right time will be to tell Rose that I don’t plan to stay for long.
“Oh, and don’t worry, dear,” Rose says as she raises her fork to take a bite of egg. “Charlotte will show you around town, and you’ll make fast friends. Just in time for school to start up in the fall.” Rose peers up at me over her fork. “I’m not sure what you were planning to do about school when you were in Silver Lake, but there’s a lovely private school on the island that will be happy to take you.”
I freeze. Humiliation accompanied by shock washes over me as I think about how to tell Rose that college isn’t in my future. Not now. Not ever. Not even if I wanted to go. “Well, um, there’s something I should probably tell you.”
Rose sets her fork down and rests her hands in her lap. “Katrina, you should know that moving here gives you a clean slate. At everything. Your friendships, your education, your future. And I’ll help you however I can, every step of the way.”
Her words and tone are so genuinely kind, but I get the feeling she knows things no one could have possibly told her. It doesn’t matter, though. I shake my head, refusing to believe that I deserve what she’s offering. I won’t take her pity. I’m not a charity case she can buy affection from because she suddenly cares about my wellbeing. Where has she been all these years? I can feel my insides start to quake.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. There are things about me you’d never understand, that no amount of therapy could ever fix. I got kicked out of school for throwing a boy out a window. And then my mom died before I could finish high school. Even if I wanted to go to college, I couldn’t.” I avert my eyes from hers, look down at my plate, and start shoving food into my mouth as fast as I can. The sooner I feed my angry stomach, the sooner I can escape this room before my emotions get the better of me.
The silence that follows stretches for so long that I nearly choke on my bite of blueberries when I hear her speak again.
“I understand more than you know.” Her tone is quiet, but the intensity behind her words shakes my bones. “Soon, you’ll come to understand it too.”
I look up at my grandmother, her cryptic message making me see her in a whole new light. It’s like she already has an agenda for me, one she doesn’t plan on giving me any say in.
Charlotte steps quietly back into the room, her eyes darting between us. “Can I get you two anything else?”
Rose’s gaze roams over me. “Perhaps you and Katrina could head to the island today. I’m sure you could use some new… items.”
I look at Charlotte then back at Rose. I brought my entire wardrobe from back home, so it's unnecessary to go shopping so soon. “Thank you, Rose, but I have clothes. You don’t need to buy me anything.”