Read Online Pizza My Heart 1 by Glenna Sinclair - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Glenna Sinclair
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me that.”
“You better not tell Milo I told you that,” I warned her, easing her wheelchair into her snug little room.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
I helped her out of her clothes, pulling her pajamas from the drawer where I’d folded them earlier today. It was still hard to believe we were in Hawaii. Once she was safely in her nightgown, I helped her gingerly into bed.
“You’ve never asked me about your parents,” Nana said suddenly as I tucked her in, unable to separate this moment from all the times she’d tucked me into my own bed as a child.
“I’m not interested in my parents,” I said lightly. It was funny how time changed things. I’d once burned with the desire for this piece of knowledge. I realized that I didn’t so much as know their names beyond the last name I’d been given.
“You should be,” she said. “They’re your family.”
“You’re my family.”
“Yes, but one day, I’m not going to be around anymore.”
“Are you going to move in with some hot lover, Nana?” I joked.
“Very funny.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I’d been at her side for every stage of her unstoppable illness, but the idea that she wouldn’t be with me someday still seemed impossible.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you want to talk about it. It’s something we have to talk about. Wouldn’t you want to know how to connect with your family after I’m gone?”
“Not really, Nana, no.”
“But family’s important, June. What about your mother?”
I sighed. What I did know about my family history was that my mother was Nana’s daughter—her real daughter—that she had been so disappointed in that she had taken me away to raise on her own. The way Nana told it—or didn’t tell it—was that my biological mother had quite eagerly given me up.
“Nana, you’re more of a mother to me than she ever was,” I said. “You’re all the family I need. I don’t want to reconnect with my parents. They didn’t care enough about me in the first place. Why should I care about them? Now, get some rest. We’ve had a long day, and you’re tired.”
“I suppose I am tired,” she allowed. “Good night, June. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Nana,” I said, an unexpected lump forming in my throat. What was wrong with me? What was going on with Nana? We’d never talked like this before. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that she was preparing to go and die on me. At least I could blame this sudden spurt of sentimentality on rum.
“June?” she called as I was easing the door to her room shut.
“Nana?” I poked my head back in. “Do you need something else?”
“You’re awfully hard on Devon, you know.”
I took a few moments to turn that statement over in my brain. “How do you mean?”
“He’s obviously head over heels for you.”
I snorted. “Highly unlikely, Nana.” There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hot hell that Devon was in love with me. Did he want to have sex with me? Yes—that much was clear to me. But it wasn’t because he was in love with me. It was because I was a novelty to him, a completely ordinary woman who somehow kept turning him down. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, and I was a refreshing departure from the norm. That was the extent of the attraction. That was all.
“Open your eyes, June. He’s in love with you. Why else would we be here, in Hawaii, with him?”
“It’s really complicated, Nana.” She obviously had been picking up on some of the words Devon and I had been exchanging, the feelings we cycled through together, but I couldn’t pinpoint how much she knew about everything. It wasn’t a conversation I felt like having with her.
“Devon’s a nice boy,” she said. I almost turned the light back on just to see what kind of expression she had on her face. She had to have been joking.
“He tries to be a nice
“You better not tell Milo I told you that,” I warned her, easing her wheelchair into her snug little room.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
I helped her out of her clothes, pulling her pajamas from the drawer where I’d folded them earlier today. It was still hard to believe we were in Hawaii. Once she was safely in her nightgown, I helped her gingerly into bed.
“You’ve never asked me about your parents,” Nana said suddenly as I tucked her in, unable to separate this moment from all the times she’d tucked me into my own bed as a child.
“I’m not interested in my parents,” I said lightly. It was funny how time changed things. I’d once burned with the desire for this piece of knowledge. I realized that I didn’t so much as know their names beyond the last name I’d been given.
“You should be,” she said. “They’re your family.”
“You’re my family.”
“Yes, but one day, I’m not going to be around anymore.”
“Are you going to move in with some hot lover, Nana?” I joked.
“Very funny.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I’d been at her side for every stage of her unstoppable illness, but the idea that she wouldn’t be with me someday still seemed impossible.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you want to talk about it. It’s something we have to talk about. Wouldn’t you want to know how to connect with your family after I’m gone?”
“Not really, Nana, no.”
“But family’s important, June. What about your mother?”
I sighed. What I did know about my family history was that my mother was Nana’s daughter—her real daughter—that she had been so disappointed in that she had taken me away to raise on her own. The way Nana told it—or didn’t tell it—was that my biological mother had quite eagerly given me up.
“Nana, you’re more of a mother to me than she ever was,” I said. “You’re all the family I need. I don’t want to reconnect with my parents. They didn’t care enough about me in the first place. Why should I care about them? Now, get some rest. We’ve had a long day, and you’re tired.”
“I suppose I am tired,” she allowed. “Good night, June. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Nana,” I said, an unexpected lump forming in my throat. What was wrong with me? What was going on with Nana? We’d never talked like this before. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that she was preparing to go and die on me. At least I could blame this sudden spurt of sentimentality on rum.
“June?” she called as I was easing the door to her room shut.
“Nana?” I poked my head back in. “Do you need something else?”
“You’re awfully hard on Devon, you know.”
I took a few moments to turn that statement over in my brain. “How do you mean?”
“He’s obviously head over heels for you.”
I snorted. “Highly unlikely, Nana.” There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hot hell that Devon was in love with me. Did he want to have sex with me? Yes—that much was clear to me. But it wasn’t because he was in love with me. It was because I was a novelty to him, a completely ordinary woman who somehow kept turning him down. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, and I was a refreshing departure from the norm. That was the extent of the attraction. That was all.
“Open your eyes, June. He’s in love with you. Why else would we be here, in Hawaii, with him?”
“It’s really complicated, Nana.” She obviously had been picking up on some of the words Devon and I had been exchanging, the feelings we cycled through together, but I couldn’t pinpoint how much she knew about everything. It wasn’t a conversation I felt like having with her.
“Devon’s a nice boy,” she said. I almost turned the light back on just to see what kind of expression she had on her face. She had to have been joking.
“He tries to be a nice
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