Page 66 of The Lonely Hearts Book Club

“Well, I can’t hear anything wrong with him. There’s a bit of a rattle to his breathing, but that’s typical for someone recovering from edema.” He swept a glance around the living room. “Where was he when he fell?”

“I didn’t fall. I tripped over that goddamned umbrella stand. Someone must have moved it.”

“Isthatwhat it is?” Maisey asked with a glance at the monstrosity in question. Like most of the furniture in my grandfather’s house, the elephant’s foot was old, grotesque, and probably purchased just to rile people up. “I thought it was a planter. I was going to put it out front to hold the dahlias I brought from my garden.”

It was difficult to tell whether the idea of fresh flowers or someone touching his old, decrepit crap without his permission upset my grandfather more, but it didn’t matter. No way in hell was I letting him take his wrath out on poor Maisey. The woman was having a hard enough time as it was.

“It’s hideous, and we’re getting rid of it,” I said in a tone that brooked no argument. “There’s too much clutter inside this house as it is. I’m sure someone on the internet will haul it away for a couple bucks.”

“Don’t you dare,” my grandfather and Mateo both said at once. My grandfather’s outburst was predictable, but Mateo’s took me by surprise. From the look on his face, it took him by surprise, too.

“I’m taking it as payment for services rendered,” he said. “If I have to drop everything and come running every time Arthur feels a palpitation coming on, I expect to be compensated accordingly.”

“Palpitation?”

Mateo nodded. “That’s all it was. Maybe if you spent less time stomping around your house like a giant at the top of his beanstalk, you’d recover faster. As it is, I suggest more fluids and a daily blood pressure check.”

The amount of collective relief brought by this all-clear would have astounded me a month ago. When I’d first arrived in Coeur d’Alene, it had been to find my grandfather running off caretaker after caretaker, refusing all efforts of assistance or—God forbid—kindness. I’d been a coward, I knew, hiding out in my car while everyone else was forced to carry the burden of his temper, but what other choice did I have? Almost a month had passed since then, and Istillcouldn’t set foot inside the house unless Sloane was here to act as buffer. I was allowed to be present for the sole reason that my grandfather didn’t want to look bad in front of his new friend.

Whyhe was so concerned with Sloane’s good opinion, however, remained to be seen. And it wasn’t like I could just come out and ask the guy. I had a closer relationship with the dental assistant who cleaned my teeth twice a year.

“So he’s going to be fine?” Sloane asked, her mouth touched with lines of anxiety. “It was just an…accident?”

My grandfather snorted. “That was no accident, young lady. That was me ferreting out the truth. I knew something about this whole Mateo situation smelled off. Fish and company always start to stink after three days.”

I couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t something I’d been doing a lot of lately, so it was no surprise that everyone turned to stare.

“I’m sorry,” I said, not sorry at all. “You want us to believe that you tripped over an elephant’s foot as part of a plot to uncover Mateo’s secret identity as a nurse brought in to check up on you against your will?”

My grandfather set his jaw. “No one asked you.”

“No, you didn’t,” I agreed in the bland, mild voice I’d learned to adopt a long time ago. My natural state was as blustery and unpleasant as my grandfather’s—as tensions around here were doing their best to prove—but my mom had been careful to instill in me a sense of control over it.

“You’re a pit bull, my little one,” she’d said the first time I’d realized that being oversized and rough around the edges meant that I couldn’t just swagger my way through life. I’d probably been all of thirteen at the time, still growing into my limbs and careless about where they’d landed.

Fine. They’d landed into this other kid’s face, but in my defense, he’d deserved it. He’d been terrorizing the younger students at the bus stop on the corner all year. I’d been unaware of my own strength—or at least of what that strength could do when riled up with the fury of seeing yet another seven-year-old with a face full of gravel and nothing left to eat at lunch that day.

“It’s not fair, but pit bulls have to be extra careful about everything in this life. Smaller, cuter dogs can growl and snap. Elegant, well-groomed dogs can tear apart the furnishings and suffer no consequences. But you have to watch everything you say and do, or the world will put you down without a second thought.”

Later, I’d come to realize that what I suffered was only a fraction of what similarly sized men with more melanin in their skin suffered, but the warning had been an effective one. So had the boxing classes my mom had immediately signed me up for. According to her logic, it was better to be trained in the use of weapons than to walk around with them balled up at your sides, uncontrolled and angry at everything.

My grandfather, I hardly needed to say, was uncontrolled and angry at everything.

“Does this mean I get to keep the umbrella stand?” Mateo asked.

My grandfather set his jaw. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Then my rate is five hundred dollars an hour, backdated to my first visit. I’ll have my accountant send you a bill once I’m satisfied with your overall condition.”

This was as much of a lie as the idea that my grandfather had tripped on purpose, but no one pointed it out. Two things were becoming rapidly clear around this place: one, that against all odds, my grandfather had fallen into the hands of a kind, caring, supportive group of people he’d done nothing to deserve; and two, that it was starting to look more and more like I’d have to become one of them.

“I don’t know why everyone is conspiring against me like this,” my grandfather said, his face screwed up like a toddler on the brink of a tantrum. When no one bothered to enlighten him, he gave in. “Fine. Take it. I hope you and the elephant’s foot will be very happy together.”

A smile of smug satisfaction crossed Mateo’s face. “Thank you. We will. I know exactly where I’m going to put it.” The smile faltered. “At least, IthinkI do.”

If my grandfather noticed that flicker of emotion on his fellow human being’s face, he was determined not to let it bother him. It bothered me, though. A lot of things about this situation did, including the fact that Mateo really should be getting some kind of compensation for his time. Not to mention Maisey and, even though she assured me she was faithfully logging her hours, Sloane.

Despite appearances and habits so miserly they were steeped into his marrow, my grandfather wasn’t hurting for money. Neither was I, but anytime I tried to offer anyone in this room so much as a free lunch, they acted as if I’d personally offended them.