Chapter 48: Grandmother
"Grandpa."
Ryan Grant blinked and called out again.
He excitedly started to rush forward for a hug, about to ask, "Don’t you remember Ryan, Grandpa?" when Caroline Whitman quickly stopped the little guy and whispered in his ear:
"Grandpa and Grandma are sick right now, and they’ve forgotten you, sweetie. They can’t handle any shocks, so let’s pretend we don’t know them, okay?"
"Good boy. And remember, you have to call me Godmother now, understand?"
Ryan Grant immediately froze, a look of intelligent confusion in his clear eyes.
"Godmother?" he asked, tilting his little head to look up at Caroline Whitman.
"Yes!" Caroline Whitman quickly answered.
"Godmother?" Franklin Whitman repeated, looking at Caroline Whitman in shock.
"Haha, yeah. He calls me Godmother, so doesn’t that make you his god-grandfather?" Caroline Whitman said, forcing the explanation.
Franklin Whitman was momentarily stunned. "When did you become a godmother? Whose kid is this?"
Caroline Whitman pulled him aside and explained in a low voice, "He’s the child who stayed at my place last time."
Comprehension dawned on Franklin Whitman. "Oh, oh," he said, glancing down at Ryan Grant.
’You know, this little guy is pretty well-behaved and cute. He’s quite likable,’ he thought.
The adult and the child met each other’s gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, Ryan Grant called out, "Grandpa?"
"You’re a smooth talker, little guy," Franklin Whitman said, bending down and unable to resist pinching his little cheek. "Say it a couple more times for me."
"Grandpa," Ryan Grant said sweetly. "Are you and Grandma doing okay?"
The little guy asked with genuine concern, but Franklin Whitman didn’t find it odd in the slightest. "Well now," he said, "you even know how to show concern for the elderly."
"Who are your mommy and daddy?" Franklin Whitman asked curiously.
Before Caroline Whitman could figure out how to interrupt their conversation, Ryan Grant was already about to speak.
He shook his head, glanced at Caroline Whitman, and then put on a secretive expression.
"I can’t tell you. Daddy and Mommy told me not to tell anyone."
"Whoa," Franklin Whitman exclaimed. His mind instantly filled with all sorts of dramatic secrets of the rich and powerful. His inner gossip burning, he turned to Caroline Whitman and whispered:
"What’s the situation? Is this little guy the illegitimate child of some tycoon?"
Caroline Whitman: "..."
She guiltily touched her nose, but to Franklin Whitman, her expression and action confirmed his guess.
"It’s true?" Franklin Whitman’s eyes widened.
"He’s not an illegitimate child. Dad, just stop prying. His parents just don’t want to go public."
"Oh. Then how did he end up with you?"
"They’re on a business trip. They asked me to look after him for a while."
Franklin Whitman glanced at Tiny again, an idea forming in his mind. "Come on, how about you come to your god-grandfather’s house for a meal?"
Caroline Whitman refused. "No, that’s okay. He’s shy around strangers."
Ryan Grant immediately undermined her, excitedly agreeing, "Okay!"
Franklin Whitman chuckled at their opposing responses. "What do you mean, he’s shy? He’s a natural! He called me ’Grandpa’ the moment he saw me. Nearly stunned me, I almost thought you really had a kid this old."
Caroline Whitman: "..."
"Perfect. How long has it been since you came back to the old house? In all this time, you’ve only visited once. Let’s go, let’s go."
Not taking no for an answer, Franklin Whitman immediately picked up Tiny and started walking toward his car.
Helpless, Caroline Whitman had no choice but to follow.
Before getting in the cars, Caroline Whitman had to argue a bit to get the child back and put him in her own car.
Otherwise, Franklin Whitman would have insisted on taking Ryan Grant in his car.
On the way, she repeatedly reminded Ryan Grant not to call people by the wrong names and not to reveal who his parents were.
Sitting in the back seat, Ryan Grant asked curiously, "Are Paternal Grandpa and Grandma sick and don’t remember me either?"
Caroline Whitman: "...Yes. Old people get forgetful sometimes. They can’t be agitated."
Ryan Grant: "But Mommy, that’s not what you said last time. You said they hadn’t seen me in a long time, and that seeing me again would be a big surprise for them."
’Haha, more like a scare,’ she thought.
Of course, Caroline Whitman couldn’t say that out loud, so she could only continue to patch up her lie.
"Um... Mommy didn’t explain it clearly. When they get better and recognize you, *that* will be a wonderful surprise."
"Then when will they get better?" Ryan Grant asked, looking worried.
"Soon, soon. When we get to Grandpa’s place, remember to eat a lot and talk less, okay?"
"I know. If anyone asks about Mommy and Daddy, I can’t say anything."
"Right!"
Ryan Grant obediently added another question, "What if Grandpa and the others ask for my name?"
’Oh, right. The surname Grant would make even the least suspicious person start thinking.’
"If they ask for your name, just say ’Ryan’."
"Oh."
After reaching an agreement with Ryan Grant, she returned to the old family home with an anxious heart.
Yolanda Young had just gotten back from playing mahjong with her friends.
The family, young and old, happened to be gathered at the entrance.
Seeing two cars pull into the courtyard at the same time, Yolanda Young remarked sarcastically, "Well, the sun must have risen in the west today. Look who decided to grace us with her presence."
Franklin Whitman got out and closed his car door. "I went to The Imperial Garden to return something, happened to run into Caroline, and just dragged her back with me."
Caroline Whitman turned off the engine and got out. The little guy had already impatiently opened his door and jumped out.
Yolanda Young said, "Well, that’s a coincidence, you two running into each other."
"Grandma."
Just as she spoke, a little munchkin rounded the back of the car and shouted happily.
Yolanda Young froze. Her pupils dilated as her daughter’s entire life flashed before her eyes. When did Caroline have a child this big?
Seeing his wife’s reaction, Franklin Whitman chuckled. "Startled you, didn’t I? This is your daughter’s godson. Of course he’s going to call you Grandma, right?"
"Haha, yeah," Caroline Whitman said. "His parents asked me to look after him, and I just happened to run into Dad at The Imperial Garden today."
It dawned on Yolanda Young. "Oh, the little boy who was staying with you a while ago."
"Mhm."
Yolanda Young walked over to Ryan Grant, bent down, and took a closer look. She suddenly felt that, at a glance, the little face bore a slight resemblance to her own daughter.
"What’s your name, sweetie?"
"Ryan."
Hearing the name, the two elders mentally scanned their social circle, but couldn’t place him.
Unfortunately, they came up empty.
The families in their circle weren’t your average Zhangs, Wangs, Lis, or Zhaos; they were the Lus, Fus, Mengs, and Lings.
"How old are you?"
"Three and a half."
"Just look at him. This child is so delightful," Yolanda Young said, turning to Franklin Whitman.
"Since you’re already here, why don’t you stay for dinner tonight?"
Caroline Whitman’s mouth twitched. She spoke up before Ryan Grant could agree, "We haven’t even had lunch yet, and you’re already thinking about the next meal."
"I wasn’t asking you. I was asking little Ryan. Do you want to stay here for dinner tonight?"
"I’ll listen to my Godmother."
"Listen to Grandma. Your godmother has to listen to *her* mother, too."
Caroline Whitman: "..."
In the end, they stayed for dinner at the old family home.
In just half a day, the little guy had the old couple wrapped around his finger, beaming with joy.
Watching the scene of domestic bliss in the living room, Caroline Whitman silently took a few photos and sent them to Adrian Grant.
Adrian Grant, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, saw his phone light up on the table. Noticing the message was from Caroline Whitman, he picked it up, unlocked it, and took a look.