The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 02

The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 02

His face went cold.

“Nora, I understand you’re angry, but don’t threaten me with divorce every time something happens.”

“I’m exhausted enough dealing with Chloe’s work. Behave yourself. Tomorrow I’ll take you and Grandma to Miller’s Creek.”

He left, slamming the door hard enough to shake the walls.

I checked on Grandma’s room, made sure she was still asleep, and let out a breath.

Pushing the ache down, I texted my attorney.

[Draft me a divorce agreement.]

The next morning, Daniel came by.

Grandma held his hand, beaming.

“Daniel, good boy. You came to see me.”

Daniel pulled his hand back, wiping it discreetly on his sleeve.

“Yeah. Let’s go have some fun. Don’t wander off.”

Grandma nodded, delighted.

When we got downstairs, I saw Chloe was there too.

She sat in the passenger seat, sipping a coffee, smiling at me through the window.

“Nora, I wanted to paint some scenery. Daniel said there was room, so he brought me along. You don’t mind, right?”

I looked at Daniel. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“We’re going the same way, so let’s go together.”

I looked at Grandma’s hopeful face and swallowed my refusal.

When it was time to get in, I found the back seat piled with their art supplies, leaving only a narrow single seat.

“Can you put your things in the trunk? Grandma and I don’t fit.”

Chloe made a face.

“That equipment’s expensive. What if it gets damaged back there?”

Daniel cut in immediately.

“You two squeeze in. You’re both small anyway.”

I started to object. Chloe frowned.

“Daniel, if we’re any later we’ll miss the morning light.”

“Get in the car,” Daniel said, flat and cold. “Don’t hold everyone up over this.”

I said nothing more, and helped Grandma into the seat.

I used my own body to block the hard wooden easels, carving out a sliver of space for her.

The mountain roads were rough. Every bump drove the easel into my lower back.

We finally arrived—not at Miller’s Creek, but at Thornridge Overlook, up in the mountains.

Grandma stared up at the towering ridge, a little dazed.

Miller’s Creek was where she’d met Grandpa.

She’d wanted, in one of her rare clear moments, to see it one more time.

Fighting through the pain in my back, I confronted Daniel.

“You said Miller’s Creek.”

He was already unloading the easels. “Same difference. The view’s better up here anyway.”

Chloe nodded along. “Miller’s Creek is just some run-down gazebo. Nothing worth seeing.”

“But that’s what Grandma wanted. It’s the one thing she asked for!”

I was shaking with anger.

“Next time, then,” Chloe muttered. “We’re already here—going back would waste the whole afternoon. What about the painting?”

“Have you ever stopped to think how Grandma could possibly climb a mountain at her age?”

I glared at them both.

I turned to take Grandma back to the car, and Daniel blocked me.

“Nora,” he said sharply. “Are you done making a scene?”

“There’s nothing else to do out here. It’s not even steep. You’ll just have to take it slow.”

Grandma pulled me behind her, almost pleading.

“Daniel, forget Miller’s Creek. Don’t fight with Nora.”

“I can still walk. I can still climb, really.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened, then he stepped back and let go.

“Fine. Then let’s go.”

My eyes stung. The bruise from the easel throbbed against my spine.

Daniel was already walking off with Chloe, laughing, and in moments they’d disappeared.

Grandma tugged at me anxiously.

“Why didn’t Daniel wait for us?”

I forced a smile. “He walks fast. Let’s not worry about him.”

I carried Grandma on my back and climbed the stone steps under a blazing sun, sweat soaking through my clothes within minutes.

Three full hours of climbing.

My legs shook, my whole body gave out, before I finally reached the summit with her on my back.

Daniel and Chloe were already sitting in the shade, resting.

Spread out on a picnic blanket, sipping drinks, snacking, taking photo after photo together.

When he saw us arrive, Daniel lowered his camera, visibly annoyed.

“You took forever climbing up here. Do you know how long Chloe and I waited?”

Lounging around taking pictures and having a picnic—was that what they called waiting?

I laughed bitterly and helped Grandma sit down to rest.

Daniel, cold-faced, set up his easel.

He chose a spot with a nice view and no shade at all, and told Grandma to stand there and not move.

The sun was brutal.

Grandma stood for what felt like forever, her smile frozen on her face, her thin body trembling.

I was worried sick. “Is it done yet? Grandma can barely stand.”

Daniel snapped, “You’re the ones who wanted the painting. Now you’re complaining it’s taking too long?”

I froze, about to argue back.

Grandma shook her head, smiling.

“It’s fine. I can manage. Keep going, Daniel.”

Chloe went over to help her up, smiling.

“Nora, it’s hot out. Why don’t you go buy Grandma some water?”

I looked at Grandma’s pale face and turned to Daniel.

“Grandma doesn’t look well. Watch her for me.”

He nodded.

But when I came back, I found the two of them standing in the shade—Daniel guiding Chloe’s hand as he taught her how to paint.

And Grandma, still baking in the sun, was slumped on the ground, her face flushed red.