Dont Blame Me

Chapter 27

I roll my lips. "Do you know about Grandpa John's gambling habits?" I push, incapable of keeping the hope out of my tone. Unfortunately, she detects it.

"Why are you asking, Rosie?" she deflects with a tired sigh. She's always weary when it concerns me.

"Because I'm interested, okay? I met Frank's son," I admit. "Mark. He talked to me about Gigi. He remembered her, and he brought up some interesting things about John's gambling."

I don't admit that I'm investigating her case myself. I'd prefer she assumes that we happened to have a connection and spoke on it, nothing more.

"How did you even come into contact with a man of that social standing? God, Rosie, please tell me you didn't sell yourself to him."

A fly could buzz into my mouth, and I wouldn't notice. My mouth hangs open, and all I can feel is hurt.

"Why... why would you think I'd ever do something like that?" I ask slowly, the heartbreak evident in my tone. I can't keep it hidden-not when my mother just accused me of being a prostitute.

She's silent again, and I wonder if she realized she went too far. "Well, then how did you meet him?" she finally asks, deflecting a question I'd really like to know the fucking answer to.

I sniff, deciding to let it go. It doesn't matter why she thinks it, just that she does.

"Ashley has friends in high places. We met at a dinner party and he said I looked familiar, so I told him who I'm related to, and he connected it from there," I lie, working to keep my voice even. Ashley quirks a brow but doesn't comment. It feels like an arrow has been shot through my chest-the sensation tight and sharp.

"Your Nana said that John put them in a dangerous situation with his gambling, but not too long before Gigi's death, it all seemed to go away. He stayed out late and came home short-tempered just to fight with Gigi about whatever he was pissed off about that day.

"Frank was a sponge for their relationship. With their marriage failing, I think he was put in the middle of it a few times. Nana spoke of one incident sometime before Gigi died where she and Frank got in a fight. Nana didn't remember much about what happened, just that Frank had grabbed Gigi and pushed her on the ground and said something about a betrayal. That's all I know," she explains stiffly, as if reciting a verse from the Bible.

That was her apology. And though the tightness in my chest hasn't receded, I take it anyway.
I mull that over, curious as to why Frank was so upset because Gigi was cheating on John. Maybe because Frank was often put in the middle, he grew tired of it. John's behavior was steadily declining, and it seemed to start when Gigi's attitude changed towards him after she began falling in love with Ronaldo. It's possible Frank blamed Gigi for John's behavior and the fact that he was losing his friend to a dangerous addiction.

"Just one more question," I barter, sensing her need to hang up. She called to ask about Thanksgiving dinner and got roped into an honest conversation with her daughter. "Do you remember Nana going up in the attic all the time? Do you know why she did?"

"Yeah. That was where she'd go for alone time when I was a kid. I don't know the reason why, she had only ever said that's where she went to think. We were never allowed up there. Why do you ask?"

My heart plummets to my stomach as an unwanted thought intrudes.
I don't feel comfortable telling her what I found. So instead, I shrug and say, "I thought I remembered her going up there a lot, too, but couldn't be sure. Just curious."

"Okay, well, if that's all, I have to cook dinner for your father. I'll text you the details," she says.

"Bye," I grumble before hanging up the phone.