The Valentine Grinch Read Online Free PDF Page B

feeling defensive. “What’s so romantic
about flowers that last less than a week? Or a ring that costs more
than a small car?”
    His expression turned thoughtful. “You know, I never
quite understood why you felt like this.”
    She dropped her gaze to her boots and scuffed her
toe against the snow, thinking about what her grandma had said.
Forcing her gaze upward, past the long length of Dane’s legs, past
the wide breadth of his shoulders, she met his compassionate gaze.
“I guess because every time I had my heart crushed, Gramps was
there to make me feel better. He’d hold my hand until I stopped
crying, and tell me love couldn’t be bought.”
    Beside her, Grandpa roared, “Why is Morty holding my
urn?”
    Amanda spun around. Sure enough, Grandma had handed
Mr. Weatherby the urn. Leaving Dane, with his questions and his
assumptions, she sprinted toward the older couple and skidded to a
stop in front of them. “Hello, Mr. Weatherby. How are you? Here,
let me hold that for you.”
    And before anyone could object, she slipped the urn
from his arms into her own.
    As she shifted the heavy box, she glanced at her
Grandpa and hoped he was satisfied. At least he was no longer
glowering at Morty, so she turned back to the elderly couple. “Have
you found anything?”
    Morty stomped on the snow beneath his feet. “I like
this area. What do you think, Elvira?”
    Grandma walked around the plot. “Look at the
drainage. George always said he didn’t want to get his feet
wet.”
    Dane took the urn out of Amanda’s hands and she
ignored her grandpa’s shout of outrage. How did her grandma carry
it around all of the time? And more importantly, why was she
carrying it around now? For the last fourteen years, it had been
sitting on her dresser.
    She quickened her steps to keep up to her grandma.
“It’s higher ground over here.”
    Grandma hooked her arms through Amanda’s. “I want it
to face east because your grandpa was an early riser. He always
enjoyed watching the sun rise in the morning.”
    “You’re going to miss him, aren’t you, Grandma?”
    Grandma wiped a tear away from the edge of her eye.
Amanda saw her sneak a glance over her shoulder, where Dane was
helping Morty through the snow. She leaned closer and whispered,
“Am I being an old fool or am I doing the right thing? I feel like
I’m putting George out with the garbage.”
    “You deserve to be happy.” Amanda gave her grandma a
quick hug. “It’s okay. It’s not like he died yesterday.”
    “You’re right, of course. George wouldn’t expect me
to be unhappy and lonely for the rest of my life.” Grandma let go
of her arm to bend down and look at a headstone. “I’d like him to
know his neighbors.”
    “See, bumpkin, she still loves me.” Grandpa appeared
beside Grandma and squatted down near the headstone. “Who’s this,
Elvira? Someone we know?”
    Grandma jerked upright and with a confused frown on
her face, turned toward Morty and Dane. “Did one of you change your
aftershave?”
    Dane shook his head, as did his grandfather. Morty
stepped forward, right through Grandpa George — who disappeared in
a poof — and took Elvira’s hands. “What is it, my dear? You look
distressed.”
    “It’s...I...” She leaned toward Morty, sniffed
around his neck and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m being silly. I
thought I could smell George’s aftershave.”
    Grandpa popped up beside Amanda. “How is that
possible, bumpkin?”
    Morty patted Elvira’s hands and gave her a peck on
the cheek. “Maybe there’s still some on his urn. Once you put his
ashes to rest, my sweet, you’ll feel much better.”
    “What if I don’t? Are we doing the right thing,
Morty?” She slid the urn out of Dane’s arms into her own and
clutched it tight to her chest.
    Morty patted her on the arm. “Elvira, dearest,
George wouldn’t want you to pine for him forever.”
    “Yes, I would,” Grandpa George
roared, then jumped at Morty, passed right