Brightest Kind of Darkness by P.T. Michelle

Author:P.T. Michelle
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Patrice Michelle
Published: 2011-06-25T21:00:00+00:00

* * *

I managed to avoid Ethan the entire next day, but by the time the day was over and I was heading home after practice, I knew one absolute truth—I was completely and utterly miserable. I wasn’t miserable because I’d failed a pop quiz or because someone had tried to pull another prank on me. I wasn’t miserable because I’d performed horribly at soccer practice or because I was sure to burn dinner tonight—okay, none of the other stuff had happened, and there was a fifty-fifty chance I would burn dinner now that my dreams were gone. Bleh. Like mother, like daughter. At least my odds were better.

I was miserable, because I missed Ethan.

Desperately.

I missed our conversations and the way we connected on many subjects. I missed the closeness I felt to him, like we were in our own intimate world. The last thing I wanted to do was go home to an empty house and wallow in my misery.

I’d just turned down my street, when my cell phone trilled. I quickly answered it, thinking it might Ethan. “Hello?”

“Inara, my secretary just put through a call from Westminster.” Mom sounded tense. My heart pounded and I slowed my car as I neared our house. I was afraid to ask, but I had to. “What’s wrong with Gran?”

“She’s missing. They called to find out if I knew where she might go.”

Turning into the driveway, I started to push the garage door button, when I saw my bone-thin grand aunt squatting near our bushes in her black “fancy coat” (or so she’d call it). Wearing a look of deep concentration, she dumped a trowel-full of soil into a bucket beside her, then swirled the soil with her fingers. Relieved she was safe, I cut the engine. “Um, she’s at our house. Digging.”

“Thank God!” Mom heaved a sigh. “Did you say, ‘digging’?”

“Yeah, with a trowel.”

“That’s random. Does she look okay?”

“She looks fine, but she hasn’t noticed I’m here yet.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. I’ll call Westminster and tell them—”

“That I’ll drop her off tomorrow morning before school,” I insisted. Gran never left the retirement home. She was here for a reason. Not to mention, if she stayed, Mom couldn’t avoid visiting with her. Win-win.

“I meant to tell you I have a dinner meeting. It’ll be after ten before I get home,” Mom said. “Think you’ll be okay with Gran by yourself?”

How convenient, Mom. “Yeah, we’re good. I’d better go stop Gran before she digs up our bushes.”

I walked up our sidewalk and when I shifted my soccer bag and backpack to my other shoulder, Gran finally noticed me. “Hi, Inara!”

“Hey, Gran. What are you doing?”

“You know all this already,” she said matter-of-factly, going back to her digging.

I hadn’t told her I’d lost my dreams to Ethan. “Remind me. Sometimes I’m fuzzy on the details.”

She held up a handful of dirt full of squirming earthworms. “Clara says I need real worms in my plants.” Dropping the dirt and worms into her bucket, she gave a grunt of satisfaction.

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