God,I hope so.
“Oh,that would be fantastic,” Mrs. Worthington clutched at her chest, a waterysmile on her face. “I really do hate to give the place up, you know.”
Idid know. She’d only mentioned the fact three-thousand times since I took heron as a client at the beginning of the year. “I know you do.” I smiledsympathetically, nodding as I laid the throw pillows just-so on the couch. “Ifyou can avoid sitting on the couch until after Saturday, that would be perfect.”
“Ofcourse, dear.” She bobbed her head in agreement before continuing, “Mr.Worthington and I always wanted to have a family in this house. It’s meant forthat. But,” she sighed sadly, “it just wasn’t in the cards for us, I guess.”
Icouldn’t say it was a sentiment I could ever sympathize with. Children werenever something I wanted for myself; I was always a better aunt. But, I couldwarp my own failed life dreams to relate to hers, and I nodded myunderstanding.
“Ibought my house right before Brad left,” I replied, reminding myself of thepersonal heartache. “Double-sinks kinda suck when you’re on your own.”
Whata crappy year it’s been.
“Bradis such a jerk name,” Mrs. Worthington sneered with a disapproving shake of herhead.
“Iwish someone had told me that before I let him propose,” I laughed, beforeclapping my hands together. “Okay! So, Saturday, I’ll bring by some coffee anddoughnuts. I’ll have Greyson with me, if that’s okay. He has drum lessonsimmediately after, so I figured—”
Wavingboth of her wrinkled hands, Mrs. Worthington dismissed my apologetic tone. “Stop,honey. I never mind when your nephew is around, you know that. He’s a goodboy.”
It’strue; Greyson was a great kid, for everybody else. He used to be for me too,but now …
“Thankyou,” I replied gratefully. “Well, I think that’s everything for today. Do youneed me to run you through anything? Or I could just call you tomorrow withsome reminders?”
Witha shake of her head, the older woman flashed me with a warm smile. “Nope, Ithink we’re good. Thank you so much for everything, Tabitha. I know what you’regoing through, and it honestly means the world to me that you’re still willingto sell the place.”
AsI grabbed my bag from the easy chair, I slid it onto my shoulder and smiled.“Believe me, the distraction is more than welcomed.”
***
“Hey Grey,”I greeted Greyson as he slumped into the passenger seat. “How was school?”
“Oh,just great,” he grumbled angrily, slamming the door shut and resting his elbowagainst the window ledge.
“Well,that doesn’t sound so wonderful,” I countered, driving away from the curb. “Canyou please put on your seatbelt?”
Hemuttered something unintelligible, but he listened, and strapped himself inwith an irritated huff. Without another word, he turned up the volume on mycurrent playlist to listen to a Foo Fighters song we were both fans of. Idecided to be brave as I smiled at him.
“Hey,remember when we went to see the Foos together?” I asked, reaching over to tapmy knuckles against his thigh.
“Yeah,”he brusquely replied, fixing his gaze out the window.
“Thosewere some good shows,” I reminisced, all at once wanting to cry and also hatingthe world for dulling those happy memories with bad ones.
Greysondidn’t reply. He continued to stare out the window, scratching his fingersagainst the ledge and pinching, releasing, pinching his lips. I knew thoseticks; he wanted to cry. I hated myself for hoping he wouldn’t. Just for oneday, I hoped we could get through without any tears or shouting. I could handlebanter. I could handle his attitude. But I didn’t want the grief.
Wedrove down the streets of Hog Hill, New York toward my farmhouse-style abode inthe suburbs, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel as the next trackbegan to play. A song by Seether called “Broken.” Sam loved this song. She andI had seen them together once, years ago, before Greyson was born. Before Iforced myself to grow up. During her days of batting her lashes to getbackstage to sleep with members of the band.
Ireached over and skipped the song.
***
Afterdinner, I headed to Greyson’s room to corral his dirty clothes from off thefloor. I wasn’t surprised to find him at his laptop, playing the latest in hisarsenal of video games, and I announced my arrival with a knock on thedoorframe.
“Hey,Grey.”
Glancingover his shoulder and taking a momentary pause from his dragon slaying, hegrunted. “Oh, hi.”
“I’mjust gonna, uh,” I gestured toward the blanket of clothes over the floor,“clean these up and throw some laundry in the wash, okay?”
