“Yeah? Okay, I’ll remember.”
I had to walk out to the living room, bend over, and give Grandpa an awkward hug. He returned it and smiled up at me. “What was that for?”
“Being you. I remember when I came out to you and you took it in stride, just like that.”
“I may be old, but I’m not stuck in the fifties. You know I liked Tom Evans, but Krystal was a hard woman to get to know. After Tom died, she made Josiah— Jos— into a bit of a mini-Tom, military haircuts and camo and all. I guess now she’s dead, Jos might either lean into that or rebel against it.”
“I think he’s rebelling.”
“Poor Zeke. He was always a good boy. Tell him they’re both welcome over here anytime.”
“I will.” I went back to add ground beef to the sauce and throw some tomato and cucumber slices in a bowl for veggies. The team nutritionist would’ve probably had a fit about how I was eating, but sometimes fast and easy was the way to go.
When I set silverware on the table, Grandpa was peering at his papers again. I asked, “What are you working on?”
“Oh, nothing.” He slipped the pages into a folder and leaned back on the couch. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
That only made me more curious, but I knew nagging wouldn’t get me any answers, so I told him about my tattoo plans for Dad and showed him the final sketch on my phone.
Grandpa’s eyes went a little shiny. “Oh, he would’ve liked that. Good choice.”
“Thanks.” My throat was tight, so I returned to finishing dinner and dishing it out.
We sat at the kitchen table to eat. About halfway through, Grandpa said, “I’ve been thinking, just maybe, it might be time to sell the store.”
I choked on my pasta and stared at him. “Sell Nina’s? But… Do you want to?”
“Not really.” He stirred his spaghetti around on his plate. “But I’m gonna be seventy-five soon. I’m not as sharp as I used to be. And I have to wonder what I’m keeping the place going for. You’re destined for better things?—”
“Hockey isn’tbetter, not for the people who count on having the store there when they need to shop. It’s just bigger. Pays more. But it’s a game, not really useful.”
He waved me off. “Pays ten times more. The store can’t compete with that, and I don’t want it to. From the day you strapped on skates, you were happiest on the ice. You have a God-given talent, yes, but I know how hard you’ve worked to improve.”
“I’ll get better yet,” I promised. “I’ll make the NAPH.”
“I know you will.” He patted my arm. “But you won’t be a storekeeper. Your father’s not with us anymore, and Wayne, well, I can’t see him managing Nina’s.”
I restrained a bitter laugh because no, even if he wasn’t in prison, Uncle Wayne didn’t like to work that hard. Plus Koda would last maybe three days before Uncle Wayne’s sneers would drive them off. Lily too. She’d probably break something over his head on the way out.
“If you don’t want to sell it, you shouldn’t have to,” I told Grandpa. “Give me one more year. Less than. Give me till next October. I’ll find a way to sign with a NAPH team, I swear. Minimum starting salary is eight hundred K. I can help out. Hire a manager for the store maybe, so you can only work when you want to.” I heard an edge of panic in my voice. If Grandpa couldn’t wait, would I quit hockey to keep the family business alive? Should I, even if he said no? That was my great-grandmother’s name on the signboard.I can do a hell of a lotmore with an NAPH salary.I hoped that was logic, not just wishful thinking.
“Relax, Callum.” Grandpa took another bite of pasta. “It’s not an immediate problem. Just something I’ve been mulling around in my head. I didn’t think you were that attached to the place.”
Am I?I wouldn’t have said so, but now I realized the store was like Grandpa, a fixture in my life, something that’d stayed the same when everything changed. I didn’t do well with changes. “You do what you think is right,” I mumbled. “But if you give me time, I’ll help.”
I made Grandpa go back to the couch and rest his feet while I cleared the table, filled the dishwasher, and put the leftovers away. When I glanced into the living room, he was already asleep, his head tipped back, the file folder slipped from his lap to the floor.
As quietly as I could, I went and picked the pages up. Not so I could look at them. Well, not just. I was being helpful, but I couldn’t help taking a peek. I wasn’t good with business stuff, but it looked like mortgage papers for the house. I thought Great-grandpa had willed Grandpa the house fully paid off, but this showed a scary sum in the principle remaining. The amount paid off wasn’t all that much, by comparison.
Is the store doing that badly? Did he mortgage the house to keep it going?If Grandpa didn’t want to tell me, I didn’t think I could ask.
I stuffed the sheets back in the folder, set it on the coffee table, then cleared my throat. “Hey. Hey, Grandpa?”
He blinked his eyes open and stared at me, his face blank for a second. Then he seemed to come back to earth and smiled. “Hey, Callum, want to watch some TV with me? I think that Dr. Who show you like is on.”
“Sure. I can always watch that.” I dropped into the armchair, and he fumbled with the remote, turning the TV on. We sat in comfortable silence, although fifteen minutes later, he was asleep again. I let him doze, staring at the screen, and not even Ncuti Gatwa’s cheekbones could distract me from worrying about Grandpa, and the fact that my life might be about to change again.
CHAPTER 8
