Murder Out By Caster Bridge

Chapter eleven

Traffic wasn't too bad as I drove to my grandmother's house. Then again, the last time I had seen her was years ago. I had been five. I barely remember it. And luckily my mother had enough sense to pre-install the directions into the GPS; which I followed. I drove for about two miles before I hit a dead-end street called Water Avenue. This took me down a dirt road trail through a mile extensive range of trees on either side of me until there was an opening.

In front of me was a beautiful brown log cottage with vines of flowers decorated around it. There was also a beautiful patio with a round table and comfortable brown chairs with a place to start a fire in the middle. In one of the chairs was a lone figure.

A smile broke out across my face as I turned off the engine and then got out.

My grandmother came over to me. Her white gown flowed in the wind as she waddled barefooted through the grass. "It's about time you showed up, Weston, dear. I was thinking you wouldn't come. Where is that mother of yours?"

"She took a flight somewhere."

"Oh, Weston, dear," she said sweetly and embraced me in the biggest squeeze. Her emotions were so incredibly unique. They were like an air of mysticism. "Everything will be fine. Why didn't you call me? You were supposed to be here around five."

"My mother broke my phone," I said. "I have to get a new one. And I'm sorry I'm so late. I had to talk to the police which took about five hours. Don't worry, though. I am not in trouble. They just needed a statement."

"I see," she said. "Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow morning. For now, let's get your things into the house and up to your room. I already took the liberty to set up an old bedroom."

I thanked her and we both grabbed a box from the back and walked inside. It was different from living in an apartment. Upon stepping through the white wooded door and walking over the threshold, it was like I stepped into a whole other realm. As soon as you stepped in, your first view was the living room. It was magnificent. There was a couch, an armchair, and an old rocking chair. Sadly, there was no TV. But that didn't bother me too much.

It took us some time, but we managed to get my boxes up to the room in the attic. I carried anything heavy. My grandmother didn't deserve that kind of strain. Even though she wouldn't admit it, I could feel the waves of dull pain in her hip and back. Her arthritis was dreadful, but the way she didn't show it proved her strength. But out of the goodness of my heart and being a gentleman, I wanted to do the right thing.

After setting the last of my boxes in the corner of the large room, I laid down on the bed covered with a beautiful woven quilt of a wolf and a blue dragon. It was beautiful, peaceful, and calming. It was everything I dreamed it would be so. It had such a unique atmosphere compared to my mother's apartment building. There, it was full of chaos. Here, it was full of mystery and serenity.

I tried not to let my thoughts wander to Hayden, but it was difficult. The way he looked at me. The intense kiss we shared. The way his emotions fired through me. The way he stood there completely drowning in the rain. It all brought a sense of guilt inside me. I raised my left hand and touched my palm. I couldn't deny it. I missed it. I missed him like no one else, and it's only been a few hours.

"Weston, dear, can I come in?" asked my grandmother.

I jerked up. "Of course, you can, Grandma. This is your home."

"It's your home now, too," she said. "And do you mind opening the door for me, dear? My hands are kind of full at the moment."

That took me by surprise. Why were they full? We already brought every box up, didn't we?

I opened the door.

She stood there holding a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich, something I hadn't had since I was a child and in her other hand was a steaming cup of tea. And by the sweet aroma, it was mint. Mom never let me have any, but I knew Hayden loved tea.

"I brought you something to eat."

"That's kind, Grandmother, but you didn't have to do that. I would have been fine."

"Nonsense," she said. "You're still a growing boy and growing boys are always hungry. Plus, you're so scrawny already. You need more nutrition." Seeing her hands shaking, I took the plate and cup from her. Gratefulness permeated from her in waves and filled her eyes. "Thank you, dear." She smiled, showing her false teeth.

I made my way over to the bed and sat down. "You don't have to thank me, Grandma." I picked up one of the crispy pieces of toast that were oozing with cheese and took a bite. A sense of nostalgia filled me as a memory of eating a grilled cheese here once before.

She sat down beside me. "Is it okay, dear? I didn't know what to make and figured I'd make you something light since you probably shouldn't stay up too late. Especially, since you have school in the morning. I'm sure that explains your nervous energy."

Shocked, I swallowed nervously and darted my eyes at her before shaking my head. "Mom didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"That I graduated already," I said. "I have my diploma in one of these boxes." I glanced at her. Now that I was in the light, I could see her better. Her white hair had streaks of gray and her cobalt blue eyes seemed lighter in color and brighter. So, it seemed like I got the blue eyes from my dad's mother, even though I never got to know my dad. He took off when I was four.

"I see. Your mother never tells me anything. Well, dear, you're still exhausted. So, you finish eating and then head straight to bed. In the morning, we will discuss more."

After I finished my sandwich and my tea, I handed the dishes to my grandmother. She smiled and wished me goodnight before heading out of the room.

I changed into some sweatpants and then crawled into bed and looked out the circular window. Seeing the moon and stars, I then closed my eyes. Hopefully, tomorrow wouldn't be so bad.

In the morning, after I showered and dressed, I headed down the wooden stairs and walked straight through the living room, cutting in through the narrow hallway. Turning right, I ended up at my destination. Admiration filled me as I gawked. This was a sight to behold. It was just so clean and sparkly. It Is because of her. If I remembered correctly my grandmother had an obsessive-compulsive disorder where she not only had to organize everything alphabetically but also by size and shape.

Standing over by the stove was my grandmother. She was in the middle of flipping pancakes in the air and catching them in the frying pan. My grandmother was dressed in black pants and a baggy flowery shirt with white tennis shoes.

There was a pleasant aroma of her cooking. Blueberry pancakes. Excitement and appreciation bubbled in my chest. Back home, my mother never cooked pancakes. It was always instant meals and junk food. I hadn't had any homemade meals. I just hoped I wasn't getting in the way of whatever my grandmother did for a living. I didn't want to keep her from her job.

"Good morning, Grandma," I greeted, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Good morning, dear," she said with a bright smile. "Well, this is certainly a surprise."

"What is?"

"You," she started as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"You," she said again. "I don't know. You seem different this morning. Don't get me wrong, it's better than you moping. I was just so convinced that you'd be a bit dull today or a bit gloomy. I wouldn't blame you if you were. You just moved in last night."

"I can't explain it, Grandma," I said, stopping and inhaling a lungful of fresh air breezing in through the narrow opening of the window over by the sink. "It's a beautiful day, I guess. I mean, the sky is clear. The sun shining. The breeze is warm."

Playful mischief twinkled in the corner of her eye as she smirked. "Oh, I get it. You just want to avoid the terrible inevitable conversation, aren't you? Well, sorry, dear, but in this household that's not allowed."

"I... No... That's not..."

My grandmother laughed, grabbing her side. "Oh, relax, sweetheart. I was only teasing. I know you wouldn't do that." She grabbed a plate and stacked three fluffy, golden crispy pancakes, and smothered them in maple syrup.

I gently snatched the plate from her hands. "I wouldn't do that to you, Grandma. I don't want to do anything to get into more trouble."

She sighed. "I know that, Weston. Why don't you tell me your side of the story? Your bullheaded mother refused to tell me anything. She only said you got into trouble. Is that why you were at the police station last night?"

"Don't," I warned, frowning. Some cheerfulness lost its vibrancy as I darted my gaze to the checkered floor. "Grandma, I seriously appreciate all of this, but I'm not ready to talk about everything. I don't think you would even believe me, to begin with. I don't want to cause any problems and have you disown me as she did."

"Don't say that, Weston," cautioned my grandmother. "That could never happen."

"But it could. You weren't there. You didn't see how it felt or how tough it was with my mother. She hates me. Despises me."

"I'm sure that's not true," she said.

"It is. I know it is."

"Okay, well, that's Iris for you," she said. "She despises anything that she doesn't agree with. Besides, she never tells me how you are doing, just that you're fine. One look at you last night and I could tell you are far from fine."

"Grandma, I promise, when I feel ready, I will share with you what all happened between her and me. But I can't right now."

My grandmother nodded. "I understand, dear. Can you tell me about last night? You told me you were at the police station."

"I did. But it was me and my cousin."

"Did Carter get you into some kind of trouble?"

"No, I... We found Barry Bloomsdale's truck. We, uh, found him dead and immediately phoned the police. They came out and took us to the station to give a statement. I have to call Carter and check on him, but I have to go out and buy a cell phone."

"I did hear about Barry this morning on the radio. It's such a horrible tragedy. They say he did it to himself, but I highly doubt that. I knew Barry. He was happy. You don't know this, but he and I had a book club meeting together and he was looking forward to it."

"If you ask me, a lot of things don't make sense. Before Mom gave me the Jeep, I rode the bus and would see him. He would smile and we would talk for a few moments. From what I remember seeing, he was happy. I mean, I knew he was going through difficulties from the divorce, but he didn't seem that upset."

"He wasn't," my grandmother confirmed. She then gave me a look. "You aren't thinking what I think you are, are you, dear? Because if you are, you better not. You don't need to get into trouble."

"Don't worry. I won't get involved in it."

My grandmother then smiled and slid over a small purple polka-dotted bag.

"What's this for?"

"Happy Birthday," she said. "I know. I'm late on it, but I didn't forget. I told your mother to tell you, but I doubt she did."

"You didn't have to do this."

"Of course I did," she said, smiling sweetly. "Now, open it up and look inside."

Confused, I peeled back the tape and looked inside.

There was a blue smartphone.

I smiled and picked it up. "Grandma, you shouldn't have."

"I wanted to, dear," she said. "This has been in my house for a while now. A neighborhood friend bought this for me last year or so. I don't know the first thing about those kinds of phones. But you young people are tech-savvy. I figured you would get more use out of it than I could. Plus, your mother broke your old one. Take good care of it. Consider it a late birthday present from your dear old grandmother."

I hugged her. "Thank you. I should get going. I don't want to be late for work. I'll set up my phone at work."

"Okay, sweetheart. Be careful. Also, if you find a gold cross necklace on a silver chain, please tell me. I seem to have lost it this morning."

"I will." I kissed her cheek before leaving.