Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [89]
In fact, the man in the chair was nothing like the man who had taken him to task, made him clean up his act. His grandfather had once dragged him out of a pool hall where he'd gone to hustle money when he was fifteen. That Ned had been larger than life, an Irishman who talked loudly, gestured with every word, and knew how to tell great stories. Where had that man gone?
His body was still there, debilitated by various illnesses that came with old age, but still relatively stable. It was his mind that was off balance.
Maybe Riley would get lucky. There were times when his grandfather was coherent, when he remembered somebody or something. This could be one of those times. Damn, he was starting to sound like an optimist, a role better left to his grandmother or to Paige.
Ned's head turned as Riley entered the room, a good sign that he was alert.
"Hello, Grandpa." Riley deliberately used the title to help his grandfather remember.
"Who are you?" Ned asked, a somewhat belligerent note in his voice.
"I'm Riley, your grandson."
Ned narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're that guy who owes me twenty bucks. Did you come to pay up, or do you have another sob story?"
"I've come to pay up." Riley took his wallet out, removed a twenty-dollar bill, and handed it to Ned.
"What's this for?" Ned asked, already confused.
Riley shook his head and took the bill back. "You okay? You got everything you need?"
"I'm cold. It's damn cold in here. Can't get no heat. They don't turn it on for me. They're cheap."
"How about a blanket?" Riley took a blanket off the edge of the bed and put it over his grandfather's legs. "I remember when you tucked me in that first night I came back to your house. You made sure the covers were real tight."
His grandfather looked at him with bemusement, his dark eyes suddenly clearing as if a cloud had passed. "Riley?"
"It's me." He squatted down next to the chair. "How's your grandmother? I haven't seen her in a long time. Is she still mad at me?"
"She's not mad at you. How could she be? You always make her laugh."
Ned grinned at that. "She was the prettiest thing I ever did see. I remember when I met her the first tune at a dance at the YMCA. She had beautiful legs. I loved those legs."
"Do you remember Wallace Hathaway?" Riley asked, knowing he had to take the shot while he had an opening.
"Is that you, Wally?" Ned's eyes changed once again as he tilted his head and studied Riley's face. "You hate when I call you Wally, don't you? Well, I don't care. I saved your sorry butt more than once, and what did you do? You turned on me, that's what you did."
"I didn't mean to," Riley said, trying to keep the conversation going.
"It wasn't right what you did, Wally. I thought we were brothers."
"I'm sorry about what happened."
"That was a hell of a crash. I can still hear the engines screaming as we went down, the treetops splitting off as we hit 'em. Hell of a ride. We were lucky he found us."
Was he still talking about Wallace Hathaway? Riley couldn't make sense of the rambling sentences.
"Do you remember working at Hathaway's store as a security guard?"
"Damn fire ruined everything. Nan doesn't know. Can't tell her. Want to tell her but can't tell her. She'd get mad." Ned grabbed Riley's sleeve. "You don't tell her, Wally."
"I won't," Riley promised as his grandfather grew more and more agitated.
"Where's Betty?"
"Betty? I don't know a Betty."
"Who are you?" Ned asked, lost again. His gaze drifted back to the television set, and he lapsed into silence.
Riley stared at him for a long moment, feeling incredibly depressed by the sight of his grandfather, once so vital, so strong, so important to him, fading away, adrift in a mind that raced from one subject to the next. At least his grandfather didn't know that he didn't know. That was a cold comfort, but it was all Riley