Life's Too Short (The Friend Zone #3)(31)

It was very awful and very rare. Ninety-five percent of all cases were random, which meant it probably wasn’t hereditary for her. Her dad was alive and well and while her mother had died when Vanessa was young, it wasn’t ALS that killed her. Wikipedia didn’t list any other of her relatives that had had it. Shit luck that her sister developed it, but it didn’t sound like anything Vanessa had to worry about.

With two untimely deaths in the same family and a sister hell-bent on self-destruction, Vanessa probably thought she was living out some real-life Final Destination movie.

Of course, that was ridiculous and something I think she’d eventually get over. Something I hoped she’d get over. She was too incredible to be lonely forever.

And she’d been right. I’d underestimated the restorative nature of a new sink sponge.

I was standing in the kitchen making a cappuccino. It was barely 8:15. I had no plans today and was thinking of hitting the treadmill when my phone rang.

The house phone at Richard’s.

My good mood immediately evaporated.

When I’d called Mom yesterday to ask her how to clean up Grace after her diaper fiasco, she’d thought I was calling to tell her I was coming for Christmas. She was surprised that I was watching someone’s baby. She was less surprised that I was still sticking to my guns and refusing to be anywhere in Richard’s presence.

I picked up, thinking it was going to be another guilt-trip phone call from her.

It was worse. It was Grandma.

“Adrian?” she said, in her small, frail voice. “What time are you taking me to lunch today?”

I drew my brows down. “Grandma, I’m not coming to see you today.”

“But it’s Tuesday! You always take me to Perkins on Tuesday.”

It wasn’t Tuesday. It was Sunday. And I never took her to lunch. Dinner was our tradition.

She was confused again.

I rubbed my forehead tiredly. “Grandma, you’re in Nebraska now, remember?”

She went quiet and I knew she was doing that thing she did when her mind got turned around, drawing down her thin eyebrows and searching the floor with her eyes.

It was more difficult to connect with her on the phone. She was less disoriented in person. I hadn’t really talked to her since the move. Every time I’d call, she’d lose her train of thought or forget who she was talking to and set the receiver down and wander off.

It made me that much angrier that Mom had moved her away from everything familiar, and my hatred for Richard went up a notch.

I heard someone in the background. “Who are you talking to?” Shuffling, and then Mom got on the phone. “Who is this?”

“Mom, it’s me,” I said wearily.

“Adrian? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“She called me.”

Now she went quiet on me too.

“She’s been asking about you,” she said after a moment.

I squeezed my temples.

“She doesn’t understand why you’re not here,” she said. “And I can’t explain it to her.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have moved her out of state,” I said, my tone more clipped than I’d intended.

“I have a life, Adrian. Even if you don’t want to be a part of it.”

Any truce we’d committed to on the phone yesterday when I called to ask how to wash Grace was officially over.

“I’m handing the phone back to Audrey so you can say goodbye,” she said curtly, obviously done with me.

There was more shuffling and then Grandma was back on the call. “Adrian?”

“Grandma, I love you. I have to go, okay?” My voice was getting thick.

“Okay. You stay out of trouble. I’ll see you soon. Bye bye.”

I hung up and squeezed my eyes shut, blowing out a long breath.

I was clearly in the throes of a custody battle and the only way I was getting visitation was if I agreed to make peace with Richard and go down there—which I would never do.

I felt instantly exhausted and like I was being punished for having principles.

I went back to making my coffee. The phone rang again and I looked down at it, half expecting it to be Grandma. This time it was Vanessa. I smiled at the screen and swiped the Answer Call button. “Hey—”

“Adrian, I need help. It’s an emergency.”

I set my coffee cup down and immediately started for the door. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to come with me to my dad’s.”

I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Your dad’s?”

“Like, it’s not a call-the-police thing, but it’s definitely urgent, and I need someone strong to help me. My hand is too weak, no one’s home at Brent’s house, and I don’t know anyone else.”

“Okay. Let me get dressed,” I said, making a beeline for my room.

“Don’t wear anything you’ll be sad to douse in gasoline and set on fire later.”

Vanessa left Grace with Yoga Lady—whose real name was Dawn. I drove.

“What happened?” I asked, getting onto the freeway.

She was wringing her hands. “Some stuff fell over and he’s trapped.”

I jerked to look at her. “Trapped? As in under it?”