that ring?”
Gran seems surprised that her son would be so rude. I, however, am not. “That was my decision and none of your business,” she replies.
“None of my business?” he asks, running a hand through his thick black-and-gray hair. “That was a family heirloom, and you’ve just given it away to a gold digger.” His eyes flash toward Poppy before bouncing back to Gran.
Poppy stands up. “I am not a gold digger!”
Dad looks up at her, surprised that she would actually stick up for herself. He rolls his eyes, annoyed that he seems to have upset this woman he considered to be so far beneath him. “Look, honey, I didn’t mean for you to take offense. It’s just that you have to see the striking difference between the two of you. There are certain expectations when you’re a Lewis. It’s nothing personal.”
She gasps and I stand up to defend her, but Gran speaks above us all.
“Matthew Lewis!” she shouts, and I jump to attention even though I know I’m not the Matthew in trouble. “I will not sit by and watch you devastate this girl. She is a very good woman who may not have come from money, but she makes up for that in compassion and kindness. Something you have none of. It wouldn’t hurt you to take a lesson from her. Now, this is my house and I will not tolerate your tone any longer. If you can’t control yourself, you know where the door is. If you leave, please do not return until you know how to be civilized. This family may have money, but we also have class, and I’ve got serious doubts about you. This young lady, however, belongs more than you do in this moment. I’m closing this discussion for good.” Her eyes look from my father to me, then soften when she looks at Poppy, but then they take on a harder edge when she looks back at my father.
Dad looks from her, to me, to Poppy, and then back. It’s like he’s trying to decide what he should do. He didn’t expect Gran to jump to her rescue. Right now, it’s three against one. He’s outnumbered and he’s always been a man of numbers. He knows when he’s lost, but he’s not a good loser. He’s a spoiled child who’s ready to throw a tantrum the moment he’s denied something he wants.
“So this is how it’s going to be?’ he asks, looking only at her. “You’re choosing her over your own son?”
“I’m not choosing anyone, dear. I simply prefer to be in the company of those I can enjoy, and your company is less than favorable,” Gran replies.
Dad lets out a long breath, shakes his head, then pushes himself forward, the girl quickly following along.
“Matthew, please show your father out. We still have class, after all.”
I do as I’m asked, following them to the door, but there are a million things on the tip of my tongue I’m trying to hold back.
Twenty-Five
Poppy
“Poppy,” Matthew’s grandmother says once we’re left alone on the patio. I look up to meet her eyes and she continues, “I don’t want anything that was said here tonight to sway your decision. I was just like you once.”
“You were?” I ask, already filled with doubt about this marriage.
She nods. “I didn’t come from money. In fact, when I married my late husband, I didn’t have any money to my name at all. I was living with my parents who were hard-working but very poor. Matthew, my husband, was the one who came from money, and I had to fight with his family, just like you’re doing now. They said I was trash—that I didn’t belong in their world, and that our marriage would never work. Well,” she smiles, “here I am, nearly six decades later.”
“Did they ever accept you?”
“I don’t think so. Though it got to a point where they no longer cared. I dreaded every holiday with a passion, because I knew it meant I had to be around them. But after the first few months of our marriage, they began to hold their tongues. Instead of offending me with their words, they ignored me. And to me, being ignored was better than the constant fighting. When his father passed away, his mother only grew to be more bitter. And when she passed away, I helped to organize her funeral.” She smiles. “I put her in this god-awful gown and mismatched shoes. I remember her wearing the gown