in the game, but I played with him simply because of how happy it made him to continuously “beat” me.
“Did you contact her, Ethan?” he asked, moving his piece around on the board.
“Who?” I watched his move. “Alexandra? No, I told you that I’m done with that.”
He snickered. “Interesting use of the word ‘that,’ son. I raised you better than to talk about women like they’re objects.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered.
He stroked his chin. “But I wasn’t talking about Alexandra. I was talking about your mother.”
My mother’s envelope was still burning a hole in my desk at work and I’d forgotten about it in the midst of my drama with Alexandra. “No,” I replied.
He moved another piece. “I think you should. I believe I’ve had that letter for some time now.”
“What could she possibly have to say to me?”
I pretended to be strategizing about my next move, but in reality had no idea what I was doing. I could barely concentrate.
“Plenty,” he answered. “She’s your mother, Ethan. Don’t you think she’s entitled to have her say? You were very young when everything happened so maybe you don’t remember things in exactly the right way.”
“So, why don’t you enlighten me?” I finally moved my piece and he shook his head.
“It’s not my place. Want to know what I think?”
I didn’t answer as that question was always rhetorical in my grandfather’s case. He asked it constantly and never expected a response. The other person, however, had to be completely prepared to hear his opinion.
“I think that part of the problem you’re having with Alexandra has to do with your mother.”
“Hardly,” I shot back. “My situation with Alexandra was completely different from my situation with my mother. I messed up by even entering into a ‘relationship’ with Alexandra without first waiting for her to end her previous one.”
“But what if she was just trying to protect you?”
I cackled a laugh. “Protect me? I’m a grown man, Gramps. I don’t need to be protected from anything.”
His lips wrinkled, revealing the weaker side of his face. “Most grown men have boy’s hearts.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Maybe she was trying to protect you from her uncertainty. Or maybe she wasn’t completely sure that you’d offer her the security that her family has given her for the past twenty-some odd years.”
He hopped a couple of spaces on the board and picked up one of my pieces.
“I could have taken care of us both,” I grumbled. “I would have taken care of us both. I would have been there for her no matter what her family tried to throw her way.”
He leaned back, folded his arms, and smiled. When he didn’t add anything further, I decided to break the silence.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He continued to smile. “I just like the way you said that, is all.”
I returned my attention to the checkboard. He’d taken a few more of my pieces in what I was almost certain were illegal moves.
My grandfather’s penchant for breaking the rules was one of the main reasons I’d yet to win a game against him. That and the fact that I never played to win.
“Read the letter, Ethan,” he insisted.
“And then what?”
“And then, maybe go see her. She’s your mother.”
I leaned back, mimicking his folded arms and heavy perusal. “Go to the women’s prison?”
“Nope. Your mother got out some years ago. You should go see her where she lives now.”
A nurse passing by caught my attention, and I nodded slightly to let her know that everything was going well and that my grandfather was still lucid. Games usually kept him with me much longer than casual conversation did, and I attributed it to the need to use more of the strategizing aspects of his brain.
“She’s out of prison?” I asked.
“That’s what I said.”
“So, why hasn’t she tried to contact me?”
He chuckled. “She has, son. That’s what the letter is for. She sent it to me to give to you, but I figured that it would take a while for you to be ready.”
“Gramps—”
“You have nothing to lose, Ethan. Just read the damn letter and don’t argue with me about it. Now, I want to go for a walk since I’m about to beat your butt for the hundredth time in this game and by George, it’s not as gratifying as it used to be.”
I stood, pulled his wheelchair from the table, and turned toward one of the facility’s designated walking paths. “That’s because you cheat. You know that right?”
“Who are you?” he suddenly asked. “Where am I?”
My