awkwardly beside them. Silence circled in the air like
a buzzard.
“Are you okay, Katie?” Dave asked. “You look kind of pale.”
“I’m—I’m fine. It’s just… well, actually, Dave, I’ve just had some startling news.”
“Oh?”
She bobbed her head. “It would probably be better if you and I sat down and talked about it in private later.”
Gracie’s lips pressed together.
Yeah, right. Break the bad news to him easy.
What was it about her very existence that made people need to sit down and reach for the smelling salts, like something out
of a bad Jane Austen movie? Apparently Dave didn’t know what kind of a coldhearted bitch his son had married.
“Well… okay.” The old man looked at Zack curiously, as if he was trying to size up the situation, then turned back to Katie.
“Brad is taking a coffee break. When he comes back, maybe you and I can go for a walk.”
Momzilla looked like she was about to puke. “Sure.”
The man turned back to Zack, his eyes frankly curious, and made another stab at extracting information. “So… how do you and
Katie know each other?”
Katie twisted her purse handle. “We were, uh, friends. A long time ago.”
Friends.
Yeah, right.
The old guy didn’t seem to be buying it, either, from the expression on his face. He looked at Zack. “Can I help you find
a book?”
Zack pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Actually, I came in looking for my daughter.”
“Must be the gal in the back of the store.”
“My daughter”—not “our daughter.” So Zack was going to just grab her and leave, without telling the old dude that Katie was
her mom. Oh, sure, Katie was going to break it to him later—she had to, since she and Zack were moving to town. But why should
she let B.M. do things her way? She’d had things her way for seventeen years.
Seventeen years of pretending she didn’t have a daughter was long enough. She wasn’t going to get away with it a moment longer.
Gracie stepped into the aisle, clutching the manga book. A perverse pleasure coursed through her as she sauntered up the aisle,
her boots clunking on the hardwood floor.
“Hey—while everyone is introducing themselves, I ought to, too. I’m Gracie.” She treated Dave to a toothy grin. “Katie and
Zack are my birth parents.”
Katie’s face grew as white as a roll of toilet paper. The old man gaped like one of those wall-mounted singing bass.
“Guess you’re my grandpop-in-law. Or maybe it’s step-grandpop-in-law. I don’t know a lot about complicated blended family
arrangements.”
“You’re… you’re…,” the old man stammered, then cast a wide-eyed glance at Katie. “Did you say that you’re Katie’s…?”
“Birth daughter,” Gracie filled in helpfully. “As in, she gave birth to me, then she gave me away. Guess you didn’t know I
existed, huh?”
The old man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.
“Well, don’t feel bad. She didn’t bother to tell me about you, either.” She plunked the book on the counter. “What’s your
name?”
“I’m—I’m Dave Charmaine.”
“Nice to meet you.” She pulled aside her macramé bag. “Guess you’re going to be my baby’s great-granddad-in-law or whatever.”
“Your—baby?” The old man sounded like he needed to cough up a phlegm ball or something.
“Yeah. Heck of a deal, isn’t it? You’re getting a new grandkid and a great-grandkid all in one package.”
The old man’s face turned the color of Silly Putty. He gripped the countertop. Katie jumped forward, her eyes wide and alarmed.
“Dave—are you all right?”
“Yeah.”
Katie’s forehead scrunched in concern. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Just a little angina, is all.”
Angina? That was pain from heart trouble. She learned that watching
Grey’s Anatomy
on TV—and then she’d looked it up in
Gray’s Anatomy
, the book. Gracie’s own heart raced as the man dug in the back pocket of his khaki Dockers, pulled out
a buzzard.
“Are you okay, Katie?” Dave asked. “You look kind of pale.”
“I’m—I’m fine. It’s just… well, actually, Dave, I’ve just had some startling news.”
“Oh?”
She bobbed her head. “It would probably be better if you and I sat down and talked about it in private later.”
Gracie’s lips pressed together.
Yeah, right. Break the bad news to him easy.
What was it about her very existence that made people need to sit down and reach for the smelling salts, like something out
of a bad Jane Austen movie? Apparently Dave didn’t know what kind of a coldhearted bitch his son had married.
“Well… okay.” The old man looked at Zack curiously, as if he was trying to size up the situation, then turned back to Katie.
“Brad is taking a coffee break. When he comes back, maybe you and I can go for a walk.”
Momzilla looked like she was about to puke. “Sure.”
The man turned back to Zack, his eyes frankly curious, and made another stab at extracting information. “So… how do you and
Katie know each other?”
Katie twisted her purse handle. “We were, uh, friends. A long time ago.”
Friends.
Yeah, right.
The old guy didn’t seem to be buying it, either, from the expression on his face. He looked at Zack. “Can I help you find
a book?”
Zack pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Actually, I came in looking for my daughter.”
“Must be the gal in the back of the store.”
“My daughter”—not “our daughter.” So Zack was going to just grab her and leave, without telling the old dude that Katie was
her mom. Oh, sure, Katie was going to break it to him later—she had to, since she and Zack were moving to town. But why should
she let B.M. do things her way? She’d had things her way for seventeen years.
Seventeen years of pretending she didn’t have a daughter was long enough. She wasn’t going to get away with it a moment longer.
Gracie stepped into the aisle, clutching the manga book. A perverse pleasure coursed through her as she sauntered up the aisle,
her boots clunking on the hardwood floor.
“Hey—while everyone is introducing themselves, I ought to, too. I’m Gracie.” She treated Dave to a toothy grin. “Katie and
Zack are my birth parents.”
Katie’s face grew as white as a roll of toilet paper. The old man gaped like one of those wall-mounted singing bass.
“Guess you’re my grandpop-in-law. Or maybe it’s step-grandpop-in-law. I don’t know a lot about complicated blended family
arrangements.”
“You’re… you’re…,” the old man stammered, then cast a wide-eyed glance at Katie. “Did you say that you’re Katie’s…?”
“Birth daughter,” Gracie filled in helpfully. “As in, she gave birth to me, then she gave me away. Guess you didn’t know I
existed, huh?”
The old man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.
“Well, don’t feel bad. She didn’t bother to tell me about you, either.” She plunked the book on the counter. “What’s your
name?”
“I’m—I’m Dave Charmaine.”
“Nice to meet you.” She pulled aside her macramé bag. “Guess you’re going to be my baby’s great-granddad-in-law or whatever.”
“Your—baby?” The old man sounded like he needed to cough up a phlegm ball or something.
“Yeah. Heck of a deal, isn’t it? You’re getting a new grandkid and a great-grandkid all in one package.”
The old man’s face turned the color of Silly Putty. He gripped the countertop. Katie jumped forward, her eyes wide and alarmed.
“Dave—are you all right?”
“Yeah.”
Katie’s forehead scrunched in concern. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Just a little angina, is all.”
Angina? That was pain from heart trouble. She learned that watching
Grey’s Anatomy
on TV—and then she’d looked it up in
Gray’s Anatomy
, the book. Gracie’s own heart raced as the man dug in the back pocket of his khaki Dockers, pulled out
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