-Peter-
A smile spreads across my face. I can smell Andrew on the other side of the door as he knocks. Going downstairs for breakfast really did something. He’s been so angry with me, and I get it. Truly, I do. I miss him, though.
Audrey opens the door to our apartment, and our grandson storms in. My face falls. He’s not over it at all. No, he’s even more mad.
Andrew marches up to me, but pauses and turns back to Audrey. “Can you give us a minute?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head gently. “He’s going to tell me about whatever you need to say. I’m not leaving.”
Andrew’s hands ball into fists, and he closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. He’s trying so hard not to let his anger show. Everyone talks about how he doesn’t get angry, but that’s not true. When Andrew gets
