Page 78 of The Lonely Hearts Book Club

My grandfather opened his mouth to argue, but Maisey spoke up before he could make the attempt.

“Shame on you, Arthur,” she said. “Do you have any idea what I’d give to have my daughter in the same state as me, let alone the same room? This young man picked up his whole life and traveled across the state to take care of you, and you’re wasting it. You’re throwing it away.”

“I always knew you were a mean, miserable old man,” Mateo said. His voice was sharp and pointed, like a needle stabbing into the same hole over and over again. “But I didn’t knowhowmean and miserable until this exact moment.”

And then they left. Not in a single-file line or one at a time, but as a pack and without once moving from their positions around me. Dazed, I had no choice but to fall into their protective cocoon, to be pushed and prodded out the door until I stood in the incongruously cheerful August sun. Blinking, I tried to gain control of my senses and my surroundings, but there was no need. For the first time in five long months—and, if I was being honest, for the six painfully drawn out months ahead of that—I wasn’t being asked to carry anything.

“Well,” Maisey said with a comprehensive whoosh of breath. “That Nigel Carthage man seems to have touched a nerve.”

Sloane released a shaky laugh and pushed her hair from her face. She was starting to regain her color, but she looked about as rattled as I felt. “You can say that again. I wonder what went on between them to turn Arthur so feral.” She turned to me then and gripped my arm with a surprising show of strength. “You know that was what happened in there, right? It had nothing to do with you or your mother. That was your grandfather lashing out like a wounded animal, protecting himself the only way he knows how. He didn’t mean it.”

“That’s not true,” I said, starting to regain my bearings. “He meant every word.”

And he was right, too—that was the thing. Iwasn’tworth half of my mom and I never would be. The part he’d gotten wrong was the why of it. I wasn’t weak because I’d come to this house; I was weak because now that I was here, I didn’t think I’d be able to leave. This was the house that had forged the best woman I’d ever known, the only place where I could access the memories that existed outside my own heart. This building—and the man contained within it—was old and decrepit, held together by a mass of emotions that had gone unrecognized for too long, but that didn’t matter.

It was still the only thing approaching a home I had.

Mateo’s sudden laugh rang out, a staccato burst that drew all our attention.

“What’s wrong?” Maisey asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I just think we all know what has to happen now. There’s only one way to make Arthur pay for an outburst like that.”

Mateo’s meaning didn’t become clear until Maisey gasped and Sloane slapped a surprised hand over her mouth.

“You know I’m right,” he said. “It’s the only way to show that old bastard that he doesn’t get the final word.”

“Wait.” I swallowed. “You mean—?”

“It’s high time the Racing in the Rain Book Club made the formal introduction of our newest and most illustrious member.” Mateo rubbed his hands together with a greedy—and welcome—crackle. “Arthur McLachlan isn’t the only one around here who knows where to hit so itreallyhurts.”

27

“I know we told you to take as long as you need, but we lied. The situation is getting desperate. We’re drowning without you.”

I shifted my position on the bed, crunching and crackling the mattress under my weight. The noise sounded preternaturally loud in the determined silence that filled the living room. So did the voice continuing on the other end of the line.

“We’re supposed to be launching the website in two months, but our new guy is starting to break down under pressure. Where are you with the whole grandfather situation?”

Under normal circumstances, I’d have politely taken this call outside, where my voice wouldn’t disrupt my grandfather trying to read from the couch. Underthesecircumstances, I didn’t give a damn. It had been more than twenty-four hours since his temper tantrum, and he had yet to say a single word to me. Not “hello,” not “What should we eat for breakfast,” and definitely not “I’m sorry for all the terrible things I said.”

I crunched and crackled even louder.

“He’s in pretty bad shape, actually,” I said, allowing my voice to travel to the other side of the room. My grandfather didn’t look up, but his whole body grew motionless in an intent, listening way. “We’re starting to suspect he’s in some kind of mental health decline.”

“Oh.Oh.Shit, Greg. I’m sorry to hear that.” Wayne, the man on the other end of the line, was my project manager and a friend of long standing. He clucked his tongue in sympathy. “After everything you went through with your mom, I was really hoping this one would be easy.”

“That makes two of us,” I said grimly. “I’m thinking about cutting my losses and putting him in a home. There are some nice ones around here with bingo game nights and group trips to the children’s theater.”

Thatgot my grandfather’s attention. “Bingo?” he demanded. Louder and more irascibly, he added, “Children’s theater?”

“I don’t want to have to do it, but the last thing I ever gave my mom was a promise to take care of him. Even after all the terrible things he did to her, she never stopped loving him.” I sighed. “But if you guys want to get that website debugged in time…”

“Oh, we do,” Wayne said. “But it sounds like you have your hands full. You know what? Forget I called. This is our problem, not yours.”

A pang of guilt spiked through me at the deception. True, my grandfatherwasworse than I’d expected, but not in a his-health-is-deteriorating way. This was more of a how-can-one-man-be-so-awful situation. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a workplace policy to cover that.

“Take it back,” my grandfather said. He’d risen to his feet with the aid of his cane and was hobbling toward me. “Tell whoever you’re talking to that I’m not going anywhere near a children’s theater. I’d rather be chained up and bricked behind a basement wall.”