Jeffrey could feel his grandfather's gaze boring into him—silent, heavy with judgment. It was unbearable.
So, he moved.
Crossing the room, he stopped beside Joanne. "By any chance, did you mean to give the wool to him too?"
She had mentioned wanting to give something to someone she owed a lot. Could it be… she had meant his grandmother too?
Joanne's eyes widened. "Ah, yes!" she gasped, spinning on her heel and dashing upstairs.
Jeffrey's lips curled in amusement. Of course.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this when she'd asked him, months ago, what colors grandmothers might like. He had given her a casual answer, thinking nothing of it. But she had been planning this all along.
And he still remembered that conversation.
She had said she had a feeling he would be home for Christmas this year.
And… she had been right.
He would be home. He just hoped—no, he prayed—that when the time came, she would go with him.
