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Chapter 13

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Zoe

Zoe looked around the small, dimly lit apartment in dismay. This was it?

Gramma slowly lowered herself onto the couch, as if she was afraid it wasn’t going to hold her. “I’d give you a tour, but I’m too exhausted.” She waved her arm around. “But feel free to wander around. Make yourself at home.”

Her wandering didn’t take long and increased her trepidations. This was a tiny apartment. And there was only one bedroom. “Where will I sleep?”

Esther patted the couch. “This folds out, though we may find that it’s not worth the hassle. I find the couch more comfy than the hide-a-bed. I have sheets and real pillows for you, of course.” She read something on Zoe’s face. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I had more for you. But I promise to keep you warm and fed and loved here.”

Zoe swallowed hard. She didn’t want to hurt Gramma’s feelings, but this was ridiculous. And because her luggage was lost, she didn’t even have anything to sleep in. She didn’t really want to sleep on the couch in her underwear. “When will we be able to go shopping for clothes and stuff?”

Esther waved her arm dismissively, and Zoe’s chest tightened. “Let’s see if the luggage gets here tomorrow. If it doesn’t, we’ll make a special trip to Ellsworth.” She said the word Ellsworth as if it was some exciting shopping destination. What stores would Ellsworth have? Did Gramma expect her to wear cheap box-store clothes? Like she wasn’t going to have enough trouble starting at a new school without that added bonus.

Gramma looked at her carefully. “I bought a bunch of snacks I thought a youngster might like, but if you want to make a list of foods you like, we can do some grocery shopping too.” Something in her voice suggested she didn’t really want to do this.

The couch was the only furniture in the tiny living room, so she sat down beside her grandmother. The couch was short, like her grandmother. If she tried to sleep on it, no way would her legs fit. She looked at the TV. “What are we watching?”

“Not sure. Whatever is on. Here.” She handed her the remote. “You can change it. I get about twelve stations.”

Twelve? Boy, a regular mother lode. She started to flip through, but of course, nothing was interesting. When she got back to where she’d started, she stopped surfing. “Do you have Netflix or Hulu?”

Gramma’s face fell, and Zoe felt bad for asking. “Those take the Internet, don’t they?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” She took out her phone. “Watch whatever. I’m good.” She was also going to live without the Internet, apparently. How long would her data plan last, roaming in Maine with no Wi-Fi? What had she gotten herself into?

“All right.” Gramma sounded sad. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Then we’ll have something good for supper.”

The word supper warmed Zoe’s heart a little. She hadn’t heard it in ages, but she remembered that when she was little, her parents had used the word supper. Her mom didn’t anymore. Now it was always called dinner—a much chillier word. Supper sounded like thick beef stew and biscuits, or lobster stew and blueberry muffins. Dinner sounded like baked fish and rice. She watched her grandmother hobble away, and her heart swelled for her. “Gramma?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Thank you for all this.”

She nodded. “Of course, honey. I love you.”

She smiled, and the act felt foreign to her face. If Gramma hadn’t been watching her, she might’ve touched her cheeks to see if they’d cracked. She hadn’t smiled in a while. “I love you too.” She meant it.

Gramma smiled and turned for the bedroom.

When was the last time someone had told her that they loved her? It had been months, maybe years. When was the last time she’d said it to someone else? Or even felt it for someone else?

Forever.

Her Gramma loved her. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She could live without Netflix if it meant being loved, right? She flipped through the channels till she found a sitcom and then fiddled with her phone. She’d expected her Missouri friends to be texting her with questions. Had she gotten there yet? What was it like? But they hadn’t texted anything. Apparently they’d already forgotten about her. This didn’t really surprise her. Some part of her had known all along that those people didn’t really care about her. Party buddies, yes. Friends? Maybe not.

Zoe glanced into the kitchen, wondering what her grandmother had meant by snacks. Maybe she should go forage.

But she decided she was too tired. Maybe Gramma had the right idea. Maybe it was time for a good nap. She stretched out on the couch. Yes, it was comfy. Her feet dangled off the edge, but this wasn’t as bothersome as she’d thought it would be.