I had not been buying affection exactly. I was too proud to call it that. But I had been doing something very close. Every check had been a way of staying needed. Every transfer had been a quiet plea not to be edged out. After James died, Garrett had become even more precious to me, not less. He was what remained of the little family James and I had built together. If supporting him meant I stayed woven into his life, then I told myself it was worth it.
I hadn’t been buying closeness.
I had been renting access.
My phone buzzed again, and this time it was Rebecca.
Grandma, are you still coming? Dad said you had to be here by 7.
I closed my eyes.
So she didn’t know.
I typed slowly because my fingers had started to shake.
Sweetheart, it seems I’m not wanted there tonight after all.
The reply came so fast I knew she must already have been holding her phone.
What? That’s not true. Dad told us yesterday this dinner was partly for you.
Partly for you.
Something inside me hardened then, not in anger at first, but in clarity.
I set the phone down, reached for the landline, and called Fayetteville Community Bank.
After two rings, a cheerful customer-service voice answered.