The Right Kind of Wrong by Eby Jade

Author:Eby, Jade [Eby, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-08-11T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"What do we do now?" I whisper so softly I'm not sure I actually say it out loud. But when I look at Vince he makes a move to put his arm around me but I shrug him off. I don't want to be touched right now. I don't know what to think.

"We should probably go talk to your grandma. Do you think she knows?"

I shake my head. She couldn't know. There's no way she'd keep something like this secret. "I still don't believe it."

Vince sighs, "You know they say a picture never—"

I turn toward him. "If you finish that sentence, I will hurt you. There has to be a mistake because there's no logical reason why my entire family would hide this kind of thing." I stand up and brush the dust off my pants but the sudden motion makes the attic spin beneath me.

"Are you okay? You look like you're gonna pass out or something."

I steady myself on the nearest stack of books. "I'm fine. Just stuffy up here. I think we should bring this downstairs and look at all of it a little bit later."

He nods and packs the pictures and journal back in the wooden box and places it in the container. "We should probably air out this uniform. It smells like shit."

"I already said that."

"Yeah, well I wasn't listening. Too busy looking at all this other stuff."

I roll my eyes. Typical man. I walk down the stairs, clasping my hand against the railing so hard I'm sure my knuckles are turning white. When I reach the bottom, I smell the distinct aroma of my all-time favorite meal.

"Grandma?"

"In the kitchen!"

My grandmother stands at the stove, spatula in hand, her ratty apron only covering a portion of her. "We found a bunch of grandpa's stuff, and we're going to take a closer look at it later tonight."

"Oh, good. I hope some of it's useful." I exchange a glance with Vince who raises his eyebrows. More useful than you know, Grandma.

"Are you guys hungry? I'm making hash and eggs." My mouth waters. I haven't eaten homemade hash in years. I tried the canned stuff but it's nothing like the delicacy Grandma cooks up.

"What exactly is hash?" Vince croaks.

I hold up a bowl of raw meat and potatoes and shove it into his hands. "Dog food," I say with a straight face.

Vince looks in the bowl. His face is pure disgust and it's delightful. I get so much pleasure from his discomfort.

"Vince, I'm kidding. It's ground up hamburger and potatoes. Pair it with a couple eggs and you have a cheap meal that is wonderful. Grandma used to make it all the time."

He doesn't look convinced.

I set the table and take the opportunity to probe my grandmother.

"Grandma?"

"Hmm?"

"Did Grandpa have any siblings?" I'm not sure how to even approach the subject of my grandfather's potential-but-not-likely twin.

"He had two sisters and an older brother. "

"I forgot all their names."

"Well, there was Johnny, Martha, Lila and—" She stops herself. "—that's it."

The hesitation in her voice isn't lost on me.

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