How to Love Your Neighbour(30)

“Tilly moved in,” he said, folding his hands on his lap.

Tilly ducked her head almost shyly, reaching out to put a hand over Morty’s.

When Grace burst out laughing, both of them looked up at her, mouths hanging open.

“Sorry. Was that supposed to be a news flash? When I went into the bathroom, her laundry was hanging over the curtain rod. Unless you’ve started wearing bras, Morty, and I’m not judging, I picked up on your little secret.”

Guilt nudged her when Tilly’s cheeks went a deep shade of pink. Jumping up off the chair, setting her chocolate cake aside, she rushed to Tilly, wrapping her arms around the woman.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry.”

Tilly accepted the hug, laughing as she returned the embrace. “I forgot all about that. I’m so sorry.”

Grace leaned back. “Don’t be. I think this is great. I expected it. I mean, I don’t know why you’d want to live with this cranky human but I admire you for it.”

“Hey. You had no complaints for four years,” he said, fighting his smile.

Grinning, she reminded him, “I did. You just ignored them.”

“We’re going to get married,” Tilly whispered.

Now Morty’s cheeks darkened, and happiness blossomed like quick-grow flowers inside her chest. This time, she hugged them both.

“I’m so happy for you two.” Not at all jealous that a man three times her age had found his match before she did.

“Ought to be. Want you to officiate the wedding,” he said. “You like having weird jobs.”

Grace laughed and went back to her seat. “Don’t think that qualifies as a weird job but if it means something to you two, I’ll happily get ordained. I’m honored you’d ask.”

“Only going to say this once because it shouldn’t have to be said more than that,” Morty said, picking up his own cake, staring at it intently.

Grace’s stomach twisted. “Okay.”

Tilly’s smile reassured her, but it wasn’t until Morty lifted his gaze that she actually took a breath.

“You’re like a daughter to me. Family isn’t what you were born with. Well, that’s not all it is. It’s what you want it to be. You and Tilly are my family. Love you both. No way of knowing why things happen the way they do but I’m grateful for whatever led the two of you to me.”

A lump lodged itself in Grace’s throat. She could only nod as she widened her eyes in an effort to keep tears from falling.

“Aw, Morty. You’re such a softy.”

“Not what you said—”

Both women yelled at once. “Don’t!”

Moving into her grandparents’ house was supposed to make her feel like she belonged, but maybe she didn’t need a building to do that. Maybe she just had to let herself accept that it was a feeling. Not a place. Wasn’t it? Renovating her grandparents’ house wouldn’t bring them back or mend things with her mother. Not that she wanted to.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Morty licked his fork clean, setting his plate down on the coffee table.

“Just, Noah offered to buy the house and I’m hanging on to it, thinking maybe that’s my link to family, but it isn’t. My link is right here. You guys, Rosie. It’s just . . . the connection matters to me. I want to live there and not just because of its past. I want to make it a home but am I foolish not to take that much money?” He had it to spend. The man had more dollars behind his name than she’d known existed.

“Course you’re foolish not to take it. Not sure why he’d offer so much but people who’ve always had money spend it like it’s nothing. The house is yours but you could build a whole future on what he’s offering. Don’t punch a gift horse in the snout.”

Tilly rolled her eyes. “Could you have butchered that expression any worse?”

“Knew what I meant, didn’t ya?”

Noah wasn’t foolish. He said he’d stop asking even though he won the bet. She wondered why it mattered to him. From what she’d seen online, he didn’t get attached or involved with his investments. This was clearly different. For both of them.

“It does sound like a great opportunity, honey, but be careful. Sometimes things that look too good to be true, are.”

That was her thought. Shifting the topic to her graduation, she pushed Noah and her house to the back of her mind. On her way out the door, Morty reminded her about the mail. In the car, as she was giving it a minute to warm up, she looked through the pile. Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Letter from her mom.

Grace closed her eyes, leaning her head against the seat. Tammy never followed through on her word. Why had she thought she would? She didn’t promise not to write. She said she wouldn’t ask for more money. She was tired of running from her mother. The woman hadn’t wanted her around the whole time they lived together, but now that she was gone, Tammy needed someone to whine to, someone to blame.

It made her wonder if she even knew what she was hanging on to with her grandparents’ house. Maybe the happiness she’d envisioned never existed. Whatever had, included her mom, the very person she wanted to ignore. Tammy told her sob stories about how she hadn’t been listened to or understood. To the point she’d lit out at sixteen and never looked back. Grace left her mother at eighteen, but history was definitely repeating itself. Right down to location. Was she doing the right thing? Did she really want to bring the past into the present? Noah might have a reason for offering too much for her place, but sometimes good things happened to good people at the right time.