Page 138 of The Ampersand Effect

But LoLo didn’t continue.

“Thanks?” Tobin finally caved. She needed to expedite this conversation before her tapping heel hammered a hole in the porch floor.

“She’s good stock.”

Like she’s meant for breeding?

“Yeah, I guess.” Could this be any more awkward?

“Don’t downplay, Tobin.” LoLo’s voice was firm and insistent. “Grier is good people. She’s motivated. She’s reliable. She’s confident— but humble. She’s kind.”

Tobin shook her head vigorously. Why was her grandmother listing her girlfriend’s qualities like they were reading from a livestock brochure?

“But more importantly—she helped you take my advice, child.” LoLo sipped her bourbon as she rocked slowly in the Adirondack, a content smile tugging at her lips.

“I always take your advice, LoLo. But… I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” Tobin bit the inside of her lip. That was a mistake—no one told LoLo what she knew.

LoLo sat quietly, rolling her jaw inside her lips while she formulated the chastisement Tobin knew was coming. No one spoke to LoLo like that, least of all Tobin.

“I like her. But youloveher,” LoLo stated. Simple. So matter-of- fact. So sober that Tobin choked on her own saliva. A miracle, really, given that her throat had run completely dry. This was wrong.

That damnedbut.

Tobin took a sip of her tea, desperate for liquid to coat her throat. But she choked—again—when the cold hit the back of her throat, sputtering droplets of her tea across the porch.

“Wha—what?” she managed to croak. She could feel herself shrinking, her shoulders could be confused for earrings if they were any closer to her earlobes.

“You chose to live—to loose your spirit.” LoLo sipped from her tumbler, then turned her head to look Tobin square in the eyes. Elodie’s light blue eyes, hooded with wrinkles and the wisdom of age, were soft with emotion—full of fondness and… was that pride?

“You fell in love, child.” She smiled, unmistakable pride etched into every line of her face. “And she loves you.”

Tobin stared at her grandmother, her eyes scanning LoLo’s usually impassive face. But there was no judgement—only warmth and the quiet understanding of a woman who knew more than she did. A woman speaking of authentic, inarguable truth.

She averted her eyes, staring into the steam from her tea. She chewed the inside of her cheek, grounding herself in something physical while these thoughts—these wild, erratic emotions— fluttered through her body and settled, heavy, in her gut.

She watched the vapor drift upward in lazy swirls and forced herself to breathe—long, slow inhales—even as her heart pounded frantically against her ribs.

She could hear the rush of blood in her ears, its candid chorus of truth pulsing so close to her brain it drowned her internal protestations.

Her grandmother’s words echoed louder, blending with the thrums of her heartbeat:lub dub, lub dub, in love, lub dub, in love, in love, in love.

Tobin’s brain flash-danced Polaroid images of the last several months. She closed her eyes as still frames of her time with Grier scrolled in a private time-lapse behind her eyelids. Grier’s hands deftly treating her forearm and easing her pain. Grier’s determined, unflinching expression when Tobin told hershe wanted to be a mom. The mischievous gleam in Grier’s eyes just before she stripped and ran for the cliff at the waterfall. Tears streaking her face when Tobin stood on the stair landing, exposing her brokenness.

Her body recalled—with startling clarity—the way Grier’s lips had felt the first time they kissed: vulnerable, determined, and so fucking hungry. She could feel how Grier had settled into herself with each new touch, how they’d melded together as if they’d always been. She remembered the way Grier held her the day everything changed—the day she found out she was barren and likely wouldn’t have children of her own. And she remembered, too, how Grier had stripped in front of her—apparently a recurring theme—and bared herself, fighting for Tobin even after Tobin had spent the entire day pushing her away.

Her fingertips began to tingle—then soon spread throughout her body in a warm, exhilarating rush of pleasure as she remembered literallyanytime they touched, kissed, brushed past each other— made love.

Because, it turned out, that’s exactly what they had been doing. Making their own form of love. Not just in the physical sense. But in thefinding your person sense. In thereveal your brokenness and heal togethersense. In thebuild a lifetogether sense.

Tobin was in love with Grier.

She looked back up at LoLo and found her familiar face watching—waiting. She wore a smile, gentle but teasing in that particular way only a parental figure can proffer upon their progeny. Her eyes were alight with measured excitement. It was infuriating— and it reminded her of Grier.

“Good,” LoLo said, as if it were settled. As if nothing all that significant had transpired. As if Tobin’s life hadn’t literally justflashed before her eyes, revealing a reality she’d tried to actively prevent. As if Tobin had any say in it at all.

“Good?” Tobin practically yelled. “LoLo! Wha—what do I do?”

She hung her head. Her heart was still racing, though the rush of blood in her ears had settled. She felt its echo, reminding her of what she’d just learned—what she’d just accepted.