Finding Home Read Free Page A

for this marathon walk you always insist on.”
    She threw back the covers and with his help swung her legs to the floor, stood and steadied herself on the walker.
    “I hate this thing.”
    “If you’d go to physical therapy, you wouldn’t need it. A broken hip doesn’t have to be disabling.”
    “I did go to physical therapy. It hurt. And I didn’t get any better.”
    “It’s supposed to hurt—and you quit too soon. Rehab takes time.”
    “I don’t have time.” Her tone was flat. Resigned.
    Scott blew out a breath and counted to five. “Gram, you’re only seventy-seven. The doctors all say you could recover and go home if you put some effort into it.”
    “Home to what?” She gripped the handle of the walker as a spasm of grief twisted her features and her shoulders slumped. “Without Stan, it’s just an empty house.”
    That was the crux of the problem, Scott knew, as he guided her toward the door and started down the hall beside her. Gram had never recovered from his grandfather’s death a year and a half ago. After fifty-five years of marriage to her best friend, the loss had been devastating. And after falling and breaking her hip, she’d given up.
    “The house isn’t empty at the moment.”
    She shot him a distressed look. “I feel terrible about that, too. Giving up your apartment to save money just to pay for this place...” She shook her head. “I don’t know why the good Lord doesn’t take me. Everyone would be happier.”
    “I wouldn’t be.”
    “You’d have your life back.”
    “Gram.” He stopped and faced her. “You’re a major part of my life.”
    “I shouldn’t be. And I wouldn’t be if you still had Angela. You’ve never told me what happened, but I bet she got tired of you always running over here to see me instead of taking her out. Not to mention spending a fortune on a lost cause when you could have used the money for a down payment on a nice house.”
    Shock rippled through him. “Is that what you think?”
    “What else could it be? You two went out for close to three years.”
    He raked his fingers through his hair. “You had nothing to do with our breakup. There was just something...missing. I should have ended things a lot sooner than I did.”
    Skepticism narrowed her eyes. “Is that the truth?”
    “I’ve never lied to you.”
    She conceded his point with a nod. “True enough. Since the day your parents died and you and Devon came to live with us, you’ve never given me a lick of trouble. That overdeveloped guilt complex of yours always kept you in line, prodded you to do the right thing. Like waste a lot of time with an old lady.”
    “Love is why I’m here, Gram. Not guilt.”
    “Sometimes those two can get tangled up.”
    “Not in this case.”
    A sheen appeared in her eyes, and she patted his hand. “Nice to know. But then again, you’ve always been a good boy. Always had your head on straight. Which is more than I can say for your sister. She called today, by the way.”
    “She must need money.”
    “She does—but she knows better than to ask me for it these days. If I were you, though, I’d be expecting a call.”
    “What’s her story this time?”
    “She had to cut back on her waitressing to go to a bunch of auditions, so she got behind in her rent. Something about a new off-Broadway play she’s being considered for that could be her big break.”
    “In other words, the usual.” Scott had always admired Devon for chasing her dream, but after ten years the emergency pleas for cash were getting old. “I hate to say it, but if she hasn’t gotten her break by now, I doubt she ever will.”
    “I told her the same thing this afternoon. She wasn’t happy.”
    He chuckled. “I can imagine.” His sister had the same red hair he did—and a temper to match. “What did she say?”
    “Among other things, she implied I was being rude.”
    Rude.
    The word echoed in his mind as his grandmother launched into a blow-by-blow account of her