Dani rolled her eyes and moved back, but Jonah caught her elbow and held her firm. He said again, “Don’t push that off.”
Dani looked from her arm to his hand and wrenched free. “Don’t grab me like that.”
Jonah crowded her. “You mattered to her. How does that feel?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You mattered to her.”
“Stop it.”
“You mattered to her.”
“Stop it, Jonah!” And Dani shoved him back. “What are you doing?”
“I want to know how it feels to know that you mattered to someone. You mattered to her. You mattered to Mae. You mattered to a lot of other people—you didn’t need to leave for ten years to make people care about you. She already cared about you.”
“Where’s this coming from?”
The wind picked up, sending bursts of water over. The windows on the house rattled from the rain’s force, but they were oblivious. They were caught in their own storm, and then Jonah said, “I want you to let people in. I listened to you last night. You talked about this crazy grandmother. You talked about your two aunts. You talked about all this really heavy shit, but you did it matter-of-factly. And it scared the hell out of me, because I realized last night that you don’t let people in. You’re shaken by people. You care about them, but you don’t let them in. You don’t let people in.”
“Are you talking about you? About us?” She shoved his chest. His words stung, but she wasn’t focusing on that. Her anger helped. She’d cling to that and when he fell back a step, she became the aggressor. She got in his face. “Let’s talk about you. Let’s talk about the fact that your dad is coming. You didn’t say a word. I was spilling my guts out to you last night and not one word about your own family.”
He snorted. “Right. Of the two of us, I’m the one who has a sharing problem?” He put his face right in hers. Their noses were almost touching. “Guess what? My dad’s coming today. I didn’t tell you because I don’t give a shit, but you know what else? I’m not going to run away because of him.”
A pent-up growl exploded from the bottom of her throat, and she grabbed the front of his shirt. She hauled him close, debating what to do. Push him away. Pull him to her. Hold him tight. Shove him back. She couldn’t make up her mind.
As if reading her thoughts, Jonah smirked. “What are you going to do, Dani?”
Her eyes clung to his. She had no idea.
He added, his voice so soft, “What are you going to do if you find out another person cares about you? What are you going to do? Are you going to leave?”
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes darkened, and he clenched his jaw. But he only said, “You know what I’m talking about.” Then he made the decision for her. He dug into his pocket and tossed his keys to her. “Here.”
Dani caught them. “What is this?”
“You can take my car. I’ll get a ride with my sister.”
“I’m helping—”
“No, we’re okay.” Jonah was already turning back to the house. “This is a family thing. We’ll manage.”
What the hell just happened?
Her head was hurting.
A sane person would want to figure out what happened, but that was the problem. Those were her personal problems, dealing with her feelings, her thoughts, and her issues. Nope. She wasn’t going there. She wanted to deal with someone else’s issues, someone whose life was even more messed up than hers.
Her grandmother’s.
Once she was back in the mental hospital’s lobby, that same blank nametag was placed in front of her. Same Phyliss smiled at her, but different greeting. “Your grandmother doesn’t remember your last visit.”
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
The sharpness returned to Sandra O’Hara’s gaze when they got to her room. Her grandmother pushed herself off the mattress with her skinny arms that looked like bird’s legs. Her muscles shifted and Sandra O’Hara plopped in the lounger beside her bed.
“Well, come on. Bring it over.” Sandra pointed to the second chair. “Pull it around. Take a seat.” And as Dani did, Sandra pinned her down with an intense stare. “What happened?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb. What happened to you? You look all upset.”
“It’s my second visit—”
She was cut off by Sandra’s snort. “It’s your third. That’s what Phyliss said.” Her grandmother shifted on her seat and reached for a blanket to wrap around herself.
“Right, well.” Dani shifted to get more comfortable. “I wasn’t really here last time.”
“Your mother was.”
“You remember that?”
Sandra snorted, pushing off the floor with her feet. She wore hospital slippers, and she began rocking her chair back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm. Dani wondered if this was what she did when there were no visitors.
“It’s easier to lie to them than tell the truth.” She peered at her granddaughter. “I remember some of it, in patches. Some I don’t. I can get legit cuckoo sometimes. From what I remember, you handled me just fine.”
“You’re no high Mrs. Bendsfield, but it was fine.” Dani grinned. She liked hearing her grandmother say the words ‘legit cuckoo.’ It reminded her of Mae.