So when he called me last spring with his voice shaking with happiness, I knew something big was coming.
I cried right there on the phone. Happy tears, the kind that come from deep in your chest where hope lives.
“Tell me about her, sweetheart.”
“Her name’s Veronica. She’s smart and beautiful and… Grandma, she’s so classy. Her family owns half the businesses downtown. Real estate, jewelry stores, even that golf club with the fancy gates. But she’s different from all that. She’s kind.”
I wanted so badly to believe him.
The first time I met Veronica was at a brunch her mother threw at their country estate.
I wore my best dress, the pale blue one with the pearl brooch Walter gave me on our 15th anniversary. When I pulled up to their house, I had to stop myself from gaping. It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion with columns, fountains, and a circular driveway that could fit 10 houses the size of my little cottage.
Inside, everything sparkled. Crystal chandeliers hung from ceilings so high I got dizzy looking up. Servers in white gloves carried trays of food I couldn’t even pronounce. The other guests wore clothes that probably cost more than my monthly pension.
Veronica’s mother greeted me at the door with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, how lovely of you to join us. Ethan’s told us so much about you.”
For illustrative purposes only
Veronica appeared next, all glossy hair and perfect makeup. She gave me a side hug that felt like hugging air.
“Hi, Grandma Maggie,” she said in a voice sweet as artificial sugar. Her eyes dropped to my shoes, the good ones I’d polished that morning. “Oh, those are vintage, right?”
“Yes, Walter bought them for me back in…”
“How quaint!”
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