Page 48 of Better Than Revenge

“Yes, for sure,” I said, helping her put on the earphones. “Tell me about your very first date with Grandpa.” I’d cut this section about my grandpa and add it into a later interview when we’d reached this portion of her history.

“We were in the same math class together in college. I was better, by the way. I think Lawrence just talked to me because he was hoping he could get some free tutoring.” I’d heard this story many times, but it made me smile every time.

“Not cool, Lawrence,” I said.

“That’s how I made my money, though. Even with his baby-blue eyes, he was not getting my brain for free.”

“Way to be a feminist, Grandma.”

“He had to take me to dinner first,” she said, ruining my feminist comment.

“You gave him free tutoring after he bought you dinner?”

“It wasn’t free if I got food out of it, now was it?”

“You have me there.” I adjusted the headphones on my ears and reminded myself to watch my filler words. “What about your first date with Andrew Lancaster? Did you have one of those, or was he just your surfing instructor?”

“Andrew. I haven’t heard his name in a long time.”

I didn’t remind her that she literally said his name a few daysago.

“He was teaching me to surf. We were sitting out there in the water on our boards waiting for a wave, and he said,If I catch the next wave, will you go out with me?And I said,We are out.He shook his head and said,To dinner.I said,And if I catch the next wave, will you go out with me?He gave a grunt and said,And what if neither of us do?Which was a real possibility, by the way, because the waves that day were terrible and I wasn’t a great surfer. But then he said,And if neither of us catch a wave, we should go out.”

I controlled my laugh this time, kept it civilized. “That’s socute.”

“He was pretty cute.”

“Was this before or after you convinced him he could paint?”

“You knew he could paint?” she asked. “Have you seen his paintings?”

“Some of them.”

“They’re amazing.”

“They’re pretty cool. Which one of you caught the wave that day?” I asked.

“He did. I got tossed by it.”

“Do you remember what the surfboard he painted for you looked like?”

Her brows came together in thought. “I don’t remember, but it was really beautiful.” That wasn’t helpful at all.

“Did you know he turned into a really famous painter around here, Grandma? Did you ever go to any of his showings?”

“Probably. Ask Lawrence. His memory is better than mine.”

Grandpa had been gone for a long time.Ihardly remembered him. But it made me sad that she had to remember she missed him over and over again.

“YOUR GRANDMA TEXTED ME.”

I had just walked into the conference room in the library and sat down when Jensen said that to me from across the table. We weren’t the only two here. Ava sat beside him, and Nolen was at the whiteboard writing down our assignments for the day.

“What?” I asked. Did he not understand I never wanted to speak to him again?

“Your grandma texted me.”

My curiosity got the better of me. “What did she say?”