The Boss Project(98)
It was hours later when she came back, and I was half asleep on the couch, watching a poker tournament on TV. She walked over and grabbed the remote, flicking it off.
I sat up. “Is everything alright?”
She sighed. “It is now—for the time being anyway.”
“Did something happen to Milly next door? I saw her getting in your car with some other people.”
“No, Milly’s fine.”
“Oh. When I came back from the store earlier, a girl ran out from Milly’s. She almost cracked her head open climbing into the treehouse in the back when the ladder slipped out from under her.”
“That must’ve been Milly’s youngest granddaughter, Everly.”
“I heard a man yelling, too.”
Grams frowned. “That was her father. He’s a bad man, honey. But he won’t be coming around anymore, at least for a while.”
“Is the girl okay?”
Grams nodded and patted my hand. “She will be.”
I nodded.
“Come on. You’ve been watching that boob tube long enough. I want to show you something I’ve been working on.”
I followed Grams to the kitchen where she unrolled a piece of oak tag paper. Inside were probably a hundred rectangles, all connected with various lines.
“What is that?”
“It’s our family tree. I thought it would be nice to map out our ancestors.”
I shrugged. “For what?”
“To know where we came from, silly. What do you mean, for what?”
She pointed to the top of the chart. “This here would be your great, great, great, great grandfather, Merchant Harrington. He was a tailor.” She lowered her finger down the chart. “He made his daughter’s wedding dress, which was worn by two more generations. I have a picture of it on my computer. Maybe you’ll wind up being a tailor, too.”
I snort-laughed. “Definitely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to be rich.”
“Oh yeah? And how exactly are you going to get rich?”
“Easy. I’m going to play the stock market.”
Grams smiled and returned her attention to her chart. She spent the next hour telling me about every person on it. When she got to the bottom, there were squares under my parents’ names, as well as my and Lydia’s names, and then empty squares next to us.
I pointed to the one next to my name. “What if I don’t get married? Your tree branch will wilt?”
“You’ll get married.” She wagged her finger at me. “I see it in your future.”
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
She mussed my hair. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Alright. Goodnight, Grams.”
? ? ?
The next morning, the wind woke me up. The rain had stopped, but the spare bedroom window had been left open a crack, causing a loud whistle to squeak through. I got up to shut it and couldn’t fall back asleep. So I went to the kitchen to get some juice. After chugging a full glass, I looked out the window over the sink at the treehouse in Milly’s yard. The ladder I’d put back last night had fallen again. So I went to the garage, got a hammer and some long nails, and walked across to take care of it once and for all.
When I came back in the house, Grams was awake and sitting at the table with her family tree open again.
She smiled at me. “What made you go over and fix that ladder?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was on the ground again. I don’t want the girl to get hurt next time when I’m not around.”
“That was very nice of you.”
I looked down at the paper. “You adding more names to your tree?”
“Just one.”
“What ancestor could you have found since last night?”
Grams rolled up the chart. “I added a descendant, not an ancestor.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a person in the family who comes after me, not before me.”
My brows pulled together. “Like Mom and me and Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“But you already have us on there.”
Grams looked toward the window over the sink and smiled. “I’m manifesting.”
“Manifesting?”
“It’s putting something out there into the universe to believe in, so you can make it happen someday.”
I snorted. “How about manifesting me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
Grams stood, tucking her chart under her arm, and walked over to kiss my cheek. “I think I can do better than that. You just wait and see.”
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