Something passes between me and Grady, a moment when our eyes lock and it feels like the outside world fades. My throat tightens, and a wave of goosebumps bloom all over my body. It’s over in less than a minute, a flock of birds flying overhead snapping us out of it, but it’svisceral. I find myself replaying the strange moment long after it’s over. Even after Suzy wakes up.
What was that?
With the help of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that Grady packed for us this morning, we’re able to stay for several hours before Suzy loses all interest. Just as I figured, we don’t catch a single thing, but I don’t think any of us mind. While technically unsuccessful, this morning was a lot more fun than I anticipated, and that’s in huge part to Grady.
After we load everything up into my truck, I buckle her into her car seat, and she’s passed out before we even leave the street leading out of the lake. There’re only a few days left before I have to go on the road again. My stomach clenches knowing I’m going to have to leave Suzy, and it’ll be another month and a half before I’m home again, but I like knowing that she’ll have her uncle and her mom to hang out with while I’m gone.
Right before we pull up in front of the house, I glance over at Grady. “Thanks for coming with us today. I think you’re the only reason she enjoyed herself.”
Grady’s eyes find mine, and a zap of something I don’t quite understand rolls down my spine. “No problem. I had fun.”
We both climb out of the truck, and I unfasten Suzy’s harness, carefully maneuvering her out of her seat without waking her as Grady unloads everything from the truck bed. I’m somehow able to make it inside and up the stairs without disturbing Suzy, but as soon as I lie her in her bed, she stirs a little, one eye opening. With a smile, she rolls onto her side.
“Today was fun, Daddy,” she mumbles before sighing and drifting back off to sleep.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I think to myself how todaywasfun.
7
Grady Wilde
“Strawberry or grape jelly?” Standing in front of the open refrigerator, I’m glancing over at where Suzy is sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter. She rubs her chin with her head tilted in thought, like this is the most difficult decision she’ll ever make in her life. There’s only one right answer here, so I’m not sure about the holdup. “Come on, little lady. We ain’t got all day.”
Suzy scrunches her nose and narrows her eyes at me. “You’re rude, Uncle Grady. I’ll take strawberry.”
Wrong.Grape is the superior jelly when it comes to a PB&J. But alas, we can’t all have top tier taste, so I select the squeezy container of strawberry jelly out of the door of the fridge and set it on the counter, grabbing the peanut butter and bread from inside the cabinet.
It’s pouring outside, the fat drops pattering against the window rhythmically. It’s been a while since it last rained, and we could definitely use the moisture. Days like this are my favorite. It’s warm outside, but it’s also gray and dreary. There’sjust something about an overcast, rainy day that’s so comforting. It makes me want to sit outside undercover with a book and just get lost. Which is exactly what I plan to do once I finish making Suzy lunch.
After I make the peanut butter andstrawberryjelly sandwich, I plop it on a plate with some fresh strawberries and a small handful of goldfish, passing it off to a smiling Suzy. She rips off a bite from the corner of the sandwich, doing a quick little shimmy in her seat. I take that as a job well done. Then I clean up the mess before putting everything away. Just as I’m finishing up, Jade strolls into the kitchen, her hair freshly cleaned and hanging down her back in wet rivulets.
“Mama, look!” Suzy mutters with a mouthful of bread. “Uncle Grady made me lunch.”
“Well, that was awfully nice of him, wasn’t it?” She presses a kiss to the top of Suzy’s head as she passes by, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a Coke. “Want one?” she asks me.
“Sure, thanks.”
Handing me the cold can, she asks, “Wanna go sit on the porch?”
I smirk with a nod, because our love of rain is a shared one. We head outside, and she leaves the back door open. One, so she can keep an eye on Suzy. We can see and hear her clearly from where we’re sitting. And for two, so Mabel can come and go if she wants to—but she probably won’t because she’s a freaking baby when it comes to the rain. She acts like she’ll melt if she gets even a little wet.
“When do you head back to campus?” my sister asks after a few minutes.
I wince before I can stop myself. The closer I get to when fall quarter is set to start, the more dread fills me. I still haven’t told Jade I’m not planning to go back, and the more time that passes, the more I feel like an asshole. Especially knowing what she andBoone are dealing with behind the scenes. She only agreed to let me stay here for the summer—under the guise of me returning to school after. What if I tell her, and she says I can’t stay here anymore? She’d be well within her right to do that, of course. But also, I can’t expect her to offer me a place when she’s about to be going through a divorce. And who knows how long that’ll take, or how rough it’ll be.
When I talked to Boone about it, even though it was brief, it seemed like they were on the same page and being civil, but who knows. Then, on top of all of that, she’s gonna have to worry about her brother? I’m a total jackass. But I don’t really have any other choice. My folks won’t let me move back in with them, and I wouldn’t want to. They’d make it miserable if they knew I’d dropped out of school. I’ve done some work for Powder Ridge Arena, and I’m trying to get on there in a more permanent role, but even if I do, I doubt I’ll be making enough to live on my own.
Still…I can’t put this off forever. Dragging in a deep breath, I avoid her gaze, and quietly say, “I don’t think I want to go back.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and it’s making me more nervous than if she had just blown up on me right off the bat. “How come?” she finally asks. There doesn’t seem to be any anger in her tone.
“Because I’m fucking miserable, Jade.” I scrub my hands over my face before stroking it through my hair, resting my head in my palms.
“Hey,” she utters. “Look at me, please.”
Pulse racing and my stomach in my throat, I turn my head, meeting her gaze.
“I’m not Mom and Dad, you know,” she says softly. “You can talk to me, and I’m not going to judge you or berate you.”
