Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [35]
“Nothing. I was just kidding,” Sara said, standing to join Faith. She put her arm around her daughter. “How about that panini you talked about? I could use some chocolate about now.”
Faith spent the rest of her weekend studying, catching up on her investigative skills. Her first week on the job had gone very well, all things considered. She’d gotten Thompson and Associates to sign on the dotted line as West Investigations’ newest client. Her dad had been proud.
She set aside the files she’d been studying and reflected on what her mother had said yesterday. Did her mom really wonder what her life would have been like if she hadn’t married Faith’s dad? And if she did, was it a sign that her parents were having marital trouble? They’d argued in the past but never for long and never in a way to make Faith question their love for one another.
Maybe her mom was just in a funk. After all, Aunt Lorraine was staying with her all week, and that was enough to drive the most cheerful person into the depths of depression. Not that Faith’s mom had seemed depressed. Faith was probably blowing everything out of proportion.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her cell phone’s ringtone of the opening of the World Series White Sox theme song, “Don’t Stop Believin” by Journey. Checking the screen, she saw that it was her grandmother calling.
“Hey, Gram. How are you doing?”
“I was going to ask you that,” Gram said. “How are you doing? Do you need me to put a hit on Alan with the Swedish mob?”
“No.”
“The Swedish mob is better than the Finnish mob.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you. Gram, how did you know that grandfather was the one for you?”
“I’ve told you the story before.”
“Tell me again.”
“We met in London toward the end of the war. I was fifteen. He was a lot older than I was. Twenty years older. My parents worked at the Swedish Embassy in London. They’d sent me out to the countryside when the bombing was so bad, but by this time late in the war, London was no longer being bombed. Your grandfather was so charming. We danced together. One dance. He said he’d come back for me when I was older and that I should wait for him.”
“You knew when you were fifteen?”
“He was my first love.”
Faith thought back to her first love—Danny Montgomery in kindergarten. He said he didn’t like girls, so Faith had gone home and gotten a pair of scissors to chop her long hair off so she’d look more like a boy. Her crush on Danny was gone by the time she entered first grade.
“How did you know it would last?” Faith asked.
“I didn’t. But I was young and an optimist. I knew your grandfather was special.”
“How? How did you know? Was it something in his personality? What traits did he have that made you so sure?”
“He had kind eyes and the ability to be a leader, to make people believe. He was pragmatic. Even-tempered.”
“Alan was even-tempered,” she pointed out. “He was pragmatic.”
“He didn’t have kind eyes. And he always talked about himself all the time.”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
“Don’t pine for him. He’s not worth it. You need to go out and find yourself some sexy young man to distract you. I could set you up with someone. My bridge partner has a nice grandson who’s single.”
“No thanks, Gram. I’m not ready to start dating.”
“You haven’t told me about your trip to Italy yet. Was it everything you hoped?”
“Dad didn’t say anything to you about it, did he?”
“No. Why should he? Did something happen over there I should know about?”
“No. I just wondered. Uh, the Amalfi Coast was beautiful. Even better than the pictures I’d seen.”
“So you had a good time?”
“Positano was amazing. The place makes you want to sit down at a local café and just let the beauty and magic envelop you.”
“And you had a good time?”
Faith continued to avoid directly answering her grandmother’s question. “Great food. The food is to die for.”
“I have to confess I was nervous when I heard you took off like that out of the blue. I mean that’s not like you. But it sounds like you made the right choice