Page 36 of Finding Storm

It’s not uncommon for Gran to listen in on a phone conversation.

What does she always say?

“If you want to know something, you ask. If they don’t tell you, then you spy.”

The woman is all-seeing, all-knowing. You want the local gossip, Gran is your woman.

Although even Gran had no clue that my fiancé, my boyfriend since high school, was cheating on me.

Nope. Not going there right now.

“Nah, she’s not here.” I chuckle. “It’s Saturday. She went to get her hair done.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes.

Gran would have totally kicked his ass if she’d heard him ask why she couldn’t unblock the toilet.

Aside from being sixty-six, Gran is incredibly glamorous. She’s a total knockout. I can only pray I look as good as she does at her age. Not that I’ll ever reach her level of glamour.

Gran’s hair, clothes, nails, and makeup are always on point. She would never be seen dead with her hand down a toilet.

She always says to me, “Stevie darling, you never know when it’s your time to go, and I ain’t turning up at the pearly gates of heaven in anything less than my best.”

Me, I’ll probably rock up at the gates of heaven, wearing bleach-stained ripped jeans and the white tank I’ve had since high school.

And yes, that’s what I’m wearing right now.

I just don’t see the point in getting dressed up when I’m working.

And it’s not like I don’t ever dress up or wear makeup. I get glammed up when I go out with Penny. But when I’m working at the B&B, which is pretty much all the time, I don’t see the point.

I do most of the day-to-day work around here—cleaning, making beds, washing, vacuuming—and Gran does the food. We only serve breakfast and evening dinner, so she has her days to herself.

I’ve always helped out here, but I started working here full-time when I got out of high school. I could have gone to college—I think Dad would have preferred if I did—but honestly, I didn’t want to leave home.

I love where I live. And I wanted to give something back to Gran by helping her here. It was the least I could do.

When our mom ran out on Beck and me when I was still a baby, leaving Dad to raise us alone, Gran stepped in. Moved us all into the B&B and helped Dad raise us.

Gran is the shit. She’s the strongest woman I know.

Gran and Grandpa moved here when Dad was small. Grandpa had gotten a sizeable inheritance when his dad passed. Using the money, they bought this house, and Gran turned it into a B&B, keeping the back part of the building as a home for them, which is where Gran, Dad, Beck, and I all still live now.

With the rest of his inheritance, Grandpa bought a building five minutes from here and turned it into a garage. I think he wanted a business that he could one day hand over to his son.

Gran and Grandpa were the epitome of high school sweethearts. Together from the first year of high school. Married as soon as they graduated.

Grandpa passed before Beck and I were born, so we never knew him. Only the stories Dad and Gran have told us about him over the years, and he sounds like he was the best. I figure it’s where Dad got his parenting skills because he’s literally the coolest dad ever.

In all the time I’ve known Gran, she’s never had another man in her life. Grandpa was her one and only.

I thought that was gonna be me and—

Nope, not thinking the jerk’s name today.

“So, you doing this tow or not?” Beck grumbles, dragging my attention back to him.

“Are you unblocking this toilet for me?” I volley back.