Page 29 of Unpacking Secrets
“You knew Nan well, then?” I asked, curiosity chipping away at the fog in my brain.
Henry paused to unlock the front door before he answered.
“Nan was my Gram’s best friend. They used to meet for tea every afternoon when I was little. My parents were both working, so after school, my brother and I would go to my grandmother’s house for a couple hours. After she died, Nan arranged for us to come here after school until we were old enough to be home alone. She’d bake cookies or snag some desserts from the inn for us to snack on. She was like family.”
His wistful smile made my heart ache for him. It was strange how things worked out. My first nemesis in town turned out to be my first source of real insight into Nan’s life.
Instead of being jealous that he’d gotten to experience a childhood with Nan in such a vital role, I was touched, pleased to know Nan hadn’t gone without young children to dote on in the absence of her only grandchild.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I could think of something more eloquent to offer.
Losing a grandparent you hadn’t known existed wasn’t quite the same as losing one who’d helped to raise you. Suddenly, I doubted Henry would make such a distinction—he seemed to have a good heart. I wished I’d been able to sense that when we first met, to see beyond the antagonism caused by my arrival and my risk to not only his livelihood, but to Nan’s legacy, as well.
I couldn’t blame him for lashing out under those circumstances. It wasn’t the first time my temper got the better of me and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but I hoped Henry and I had turned a corner.
And maybe, if I stopped fighting it, a friend with a good heart was exactly what I needed in my life right now.
Twelve
Henry
Igavemyselfamomentto miss them both, Gram and Nan, but tonight wasn’t about what I'd lost. Juliet needed someone in her corner, and now that we were on speaking terms, why shouldn’t it be me? Hopefully finding her and bringing her home safely would win me some points on the redemption scale.
Some distant part of my brain chantedfinder’s keepers, like she was a treasure I’d stumbled upon in the woods, but I tried not to dwell on that thought.
My eyes locked on Juliet’s face. “You really do look like her, you know.”
“So I’ve been told,” she replied.
I forced my gaze away as we entered the cottage, moving slowly until she was able to flip on one of the lamps near the door. When I saw the sea of boxes on the living room floor, I gave a startled laugh. Nan had been something of a neat freak; I could just imagine her opinion of this chaos.
“What is all this?”
“Most of what Nan had in storage upstairs,” she told me, watching my face for a reaction. “I thought maybe I could find some details about why my mother left town . . . or why she lied about us having no other family, or who my father was. You don’t happen to know any of those answers, do you?”
I looked skeptically at the spread. “I’m afraid not. I can’t remember ever hearing any speculation, really, but most people knew better than to gossip about Nan’s family. Do you think Nan even knew who your father was?”
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “My mom must have been only a couple months pregnant when she left. I just thought maybe somewhere, there might be some clue about it. I guess I was hoping to get lucky while going through this stuff. I didn’t even know Nan existed until it was too late. What if I have other family out there that I don’t know about?”
It might have just been exhaustion, but I could hear her voice rising in pitch and watched as she bit back any further outbursts. I saw the conflict in her cornflower eyes and guided her to the cozy recliner that had been shoved into a corner of the room.
“Easy,” I said, my voice and hands gentle despite the teasing words. “That’s a battle for another day. For right now, you just need to relax. I’m going to run back out and get the pizza.”
She nodded, closing her eyes while I fetched our dinner. When she moved to get up from the chair upon my return, I stopped her before she could rise.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned as I pulled dishes from the kitchen cupboards.
Thankfully, I was familiar with the cottage, because she was in no shape to assist. I handed her a plate of food and a water bottle from the fridge, then grabbed my own and plopped down on the sofa. We ate in silence, then I put the remainder in the fridge and went to rummage through a closet in the downstairs hallway.
Juliet frowned in confusion when I returned with a pile of neatly folded blankets and a spare pillow.
“I didn’t even realize that stuff was in there. I feel like a moron, not knowing my way around a cottage this small,” she said glumly.
“I’d be happy to give you a tour tomorrow,” I joked, tossing the bedding onto the couch. When she narrowed her eyes at me, I grinned and added, “Look, it’s a good thing for both of us that I’m familiar with the place. Libby would annihilate me if she heard that I expected an injured woman to wait on me.”
Juliet gave a reluctant smile. Now that her skin was no longer streaked with blood, I was able to appreciate that expression more fully. I sat down beside the blankets and stretched my legs out in front of me.
“I guess that’s true. Just feels a little weird,” she admitted. “This whole move has been kind of surreal.”
