I couldn't help but notice that Josh had come straight to the cottage after getting off the bus. He hadn't gone to where he supposedly lived.
Grandma's place was rented, and it was tiny – one bedroom, one bathroom, a cozy kitchen, and small living area with windows overlooking an elaborate rose garden, now dormant.
Across the garden loomed a much larger home, where my Dad lived with Loretta in a two-story brick house, much like the Parkers'. Everything was Loretta's – the house, the cottage, the gardens, and probably all their possessions.
This meant that Loretta wasn't just mine and Josh's stepmother. She was also Grandma's landlady.
It was all so complicated that I had a hard time keeping it straight sometimes. But it worked as long as Grandma thought she had a job.
Reminded of this, I stood and reached for the bin of envelopes she had stuffed during the last week. I said my goodbyes and headed out to my car.
I was loading the bin into my trunk when I heard that dreaded voice somewhere behind me call out, "Up to your usual tricks, I see?"
Chapter 37
I glanced behind me and stifled a groan. Sure enough, there she was, an overly thin woman with short, brown hair – Loretta.
Today she wore tailored slacks, a cream-colored blouse, and her usual scowl as she barreled down the driveway toward me.
With a sigh, I turned back to the car and slammed the trunk before leaning against it. She came closer, holding an official-looking clipboard.
Her scowl deepened. "Well,areyou?" she said.
Up to my usual tricks? Honestly, I had no idea. "What tricks?" I asked.
"Do I really have to spell everything out for you?" She gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'm referring to your leaving without stopping by."
"I tried to stop by," I said. "No one answered."
It was true. After the hassle Loretta gave me last time, I had literally forced myself to knock on their front door first, before setting one foot inside Grandma's cottage.
"Besides," I said, "aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"Aren't you?" she said.
"No. I work nights, remember?"
She pursed her lips. "There's no need to get snippy."
We could go around like this for hours. Isodidn't have the time or energy. I glanced at the house. "So, uh, you want me to stop by, now?"
Please say no, please say no, please say no.
"Not necessary," she said. "Your father isn't home."
If it wasn't necessary, why was she giving me grief? Oh yeah, because she could. That's why.
"Oh," I said.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself?"
"What am I supposed to say? That I'm sorry?"
"Not ifthat'sthe best you can do." She looked down at my clothing. "Please tell me you're not wearingthatfor Thanksgiving."
I glanced down at my jeans and turtleneck. I looked respectable enough. "Are we dressing up?" I asked.
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
