Page 37 of Bad Intentions

She is a fistful of bitterness.

“Can I go in?” I ask, annoyed by her unnecessary hostility.

“Do you need my permission?” she quips dryly, takes a slow puff off her cigarette, and exhales a cloud of smoke.

“Well, you are blocking the door.”

I think I hear a little snort escape her. At this point, I’m not surprised Grandma hasn’t talked to her in decades. I wouldn’t either.

She takes a half a step aside, not enough to let me in. I pull the screen door handle, and only then does she move farther, staring me down as I walk in.

As soon as I walk into the closed patio, the door to the kitchen opens, and the chief steps out.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, giving me a once-over. “You all right?”

“I am. You?”

He flicks his brows, his lips curving downward in uncertainty. His eyes don’t leave me as he blocks the kitchen door. I swear, everyone is on my case today.

“Anything new going on?” he asks, and I know why he’s asking, but I don’t have any news about the stranger.

I shake my head. “What about you?”

He only chuckles, looks away, and pats me on the shoulder as he pushes his way past me and out the door.

Thanks for nothing, Chief.

Grandma sits at the kitchen table, her eyes downcast, her hands clasped. There are three empty coffee cups on the table. It was a reunion, indeed.

“You all right, Grams?” I ask.

She doesn’t raise her eyes as I pull my parka off. Something’s not right, I can tell, and I hope it’s not another episode.

“Grams?” I duck my head like that will help me see her face better. It’s blank. Or she’s concentrating or gathering herself.

“Take a seat, Josie,” she says softly. “We need to talk.”

That we do. I hang my parka on the back of the chair, then take a seat.

The chief being here means he’s told her about the kidnapping, my involvement, and the text messages from the stranger. Grandma won’t be angry at me for not telling her, I know that. But she’s upset, though she does a good job hiding it, as always.

“You should’ve told me,” she says.

That’s one hell of a way to start a conversation. I play dumb. “About?”

She raises her eyes to me, and they are soft and concerned. “About the woman you found. But more importantly, about the person who texted you.”

“You should’ve told me more about the past so I didn’t have to get answers from strangers.”

Grandma’s lips tighten. She looks even more tired today. “Want some coffee? Tea?”

I start getting up when she stops me. “Sit down, Josie.”

23

JOSIE

I resume my seat. “So talk,” I say. “Who’s the man from the news and why is he in town texting me about you and Mom?”