Inferno - Chelle Bliss by Chelle Bliss

“What a beautiful girl,” she says, but I don’t know if she’s talking to me or her sister-in-law. “I’ve been dying to meet you.” She pulls back, giving my face a quick once-over.

Up close, she looks much younger, and her face is kind. She has a softness to her, almost a glow. I can see her surrounded by a ton of grandchildren, spoiling them rotten and giving them lots of love.

“You have?” My voice doesn’t hide my surprise at her words.

She nods and smiles. “Everyone’s told me about you, even Stone.”

I feel my eyebrows rise as I jerk my head back slightly. “Really?”

She nods again. “He doesn’t say much, but when he was talking about you last weekend, I couldn’t help but listen.”

“Well…I…” I have nothing. I’m too shocked to form a coherent thought.

“Come in. Come in. Lunch is almost ready.”

“Great. I’m famished,” Fran tells her, walking inside before Stone’s grandmother releases her hold on me.

“I hope you brought an appetite, sweetheart. I don’t know what you like to eat, so I made a little of everything.”

“I’m not picky.” I used to be when I was little, but that ended quickly when I entered the foster care system. The woman I lived with didn’t care about the food being delicious as long as it was cheap.

Maria slings her arm around my shoulder and guides me into her house. If the outside was impressive, the inside is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The house is so clean, I’m scared to even touch anything. She must spend hours upon hours scrubbing every surface.

“Your home is lovely,” I tell her, trying not to gawk at the expensive, custom-designed interior.

“Thank you. It’s a little much sometimes, but I can’t sell it. There are too many memories here now. Children. Grandchildren. Great-grandchildren.”

“I imagine so,” I tell her as my gaze moves around while we walk through to the kitchen.

I’m hit by so many smells, and my stomach gurgles, knowing what’s about to come.

“So, Opal, Fran told me you’re from Chicago.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maria stops walking and turns to face me. “Sweetie, you can call me anything else in the world, but not ma’am, please. You can call me Maria or even Grams.”

“I call her bitch.” Fran shrugs with a small laugh. “I wouldn’t go that route, though.”

Maria waves her hand at her sister-in-law and rolls her eyes. “She’s a bad influence. Don’t listen to her.”

I’m jealous of their easiness with each other. I never had any other siblings and have no one I have history with. What would that even feel like? They have no idea what it’s like to be as alone as I am. It would be impossible for them to fathom, much like it hurts my brain and my heart to think about their abundance of people.

“Can I help with something?” I ask Maria. She’s going to a lot of trouble to make this lunch possible and feeding an absolute stranger.

“You cook?” she asks, looking at me like I’m an enigma.

I nod. “Self-taught, so I’m probably not very good, but I’m willing to learn.”

Maria pulls me tight to her side. “I like your spunk and willingness. But today, I’ll handle everything. You sit and relax.”

“Okay,” I say, tucking a lock of my hair that escaped my ponytail behind my ear, feeling a little useless and spoiled.

Fran pats the stool next to her at the kitchen island. “Sit. Sit. I’ll grab some wine.”

“Water is good for me,” I tell her, knowing it’s too damn early in the day for me to be drinking if I want to stay awake.

The front door opens, and their eyes move that way. Mine follow when I hear, “I’m here, Gram. What’s wrong?”

Stone.





11





STONE





I stop dead as soon as I walk into the kitchen and my eyes land on Opal. She’s white as a ghost, looking every bit as surprised as I am.

“I’m sorry,” she says immediately.

“For what?” I ask, walking up to her as the two nosiest women in my life watch in rapt amusement. “I know they”—I pitch my finger in their direction—“did this.”

Opal laughs. “They’re something else.”

“They’re something,” I mutter.

My grandma walks up to me and takes my arm. “Hi, baby,” she says so gently, I almost forget she lied to me to get me over here.

I peer down at my small grandmother, but the gentleness of her smile makes any anger I felt melt away. It’s her superpower she has over all of us. “Gram, I thought something was wrong. Like really, really wrong. I was ready to call an ambulance. You scared the living shit out of me.”

She places her head on my bicep for a second as a form of a hug. “I’m not going out yet, Stone. We needed one more for lunch, and Fran and I thought you would be the perfect person.”

“How do you need one more for lunch? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Odd numbers are bad luck,” Aunt Fran says from her spot at the kitchen table.

I swing my gaze her way, giving her a raised eyebrow. “You two are always up to something.”