by Owner
I decide to walk over before I’m caught eavesdropping.
“I suppose I could get my groove on,” she says and plucks the bud out by the wire. She hands it over to Dante. “Here take this. I see my granddaughter is here.”
Dante stands. “Oh, yeah.” He gives me a long look, up and down. “What’s up, sugar?”
Jax says she likes this kid, but he seems to be a little punk to me. “I’m not sugar, I’m Sage.”
“Yeah, yeah, Sage. So you here for the Sunday brunch?”
I tilt my head around him, since he isn’t aware he’s rudely blocking my view of my grandmother. “Yes,” I smile at her.
“Me too. Guess I’ll go find my Aunt Lydia. See you over there.” Then, to my surprise, he turns and kneels down next to Rose. “It was nice hanging with you again, Mrs. Douglas.” He pats her arm, eliciting a grin from her, before standing to walk away.
“Good morning, Grandmother.” I pull a chair closer and take a seat.
“Well you just barely made it, didn’t you?” she says as she looks at her watch. I can tell she’s not as relaxed as the last time.
“Yes…road construction. Shall we go?” I turn to look in the direction Dante went in.
“There’s always plenty of food,” she says. A long pause tells me she’s waiting for me to turn my attention back to her. “I’d like to talk to you before we head over.”
A cloud of discomfort descends on me once again, even though I have no idea what she’s about to say. I look at her and wait as people shuffle by us toward the eating commons. “Is everything okay?” I can hear her telling me the cancer has spread. It could be any day now.
She fingers the sapphire pendant on a chain around her neck. Dishes clank in the other room. “I’m changing my will,” she says as if she’s picking chicken instead of fish.
I stare at her, not sure what that means. I don’t say anything as she watches for my reaction. It brings me back to when she told us all she was done with chemo. It wasn’t working, only eating away at her tiny body.
“Sage, did you hear what I said? I’m changing everything. I don’t want to die with all this money, and I want you to help me give it all away.”
I blink a few times in an attempt to make sense of what she said. Give it all away. What does that mean? It’s not as if I’ve been waiting by her bedside with my purse open, but this sounds insane and so unlike my grandmother. “Rose…I…Grandmother, I don’t understand. Are you feeling all right? Should I get the nurse?”
“No, I’m not feeling all right. I’m dying, Sage. But my mind is perfectly intact, and I do know what the hell I’m saying if that’s what you were going to ask next.”
Was she seriously going to try and erase three decades of brainwashing…over half a century of family tradition, with one simple sentence: I’m giving it all away? I didn’t mean to but I coughed out a laugh.
“I’m sure this comes as a shock to you, honey.”
Honey? God, this is serious. I wrack my brain for a response. After a few seconds, I realize my mouth is open, but nothing is coming out.
“Sage, I’m not doing this to punish you…or your father. It’s simply something I have to do. To make peace with my life.”
I turn away, staring at the fountain in the foyer. Oh, yeah, make peace with your life. No sense making it with your family. We only followed in your footsteps, did everything you asked. Damn near everything you expected and didn’t ask. All these arguments forming in my brain are too cowardly to step foot out of my mouth. Then I turn to see tears rim my grandmother’s eyes, something I hadn’t seen in many years. I lean forward, put my hand on her leg. “I don’t understand where all this is coming from. What exactly do you want?”
“What I want is to change some things before I leave this world. Your father, you, Sierra—you don’t need my money. Well maybe your sister; she never did have the drive you have,” she says with a slight grin. “You’re all doing so well. You’re on your way. But I’d advise you to take a look at how you’re living your life. Hoarding all your money away for some damn sense of security is no way to live.”
I execute a deep inhale hoping to summon the right words. Right for me or for her? But the only word that keeps flashing before my eyes like a neon sign is Jax. This has to be her influence. I can’t say this to my grandmother, though. I see the look of determination in her eyes, one I’ve seen many times before. She’s made up her mind. And even if I thought I could convince her otherwise, is that what I’d want our final time together to be? Arguing over money? “I’m not sure what you want me to say? This is all so sudden, so confusing, after all these years.” I exhale before continuing with hesitance, wondering if she’s told my father and what his reaction would be. “Obviously, I will do whatever you want.”
She looks in my eyes, and I know she can see my pain. I’m not being petty about this. It’s not about the money—not fully. It’s about a lifetime of trying to please a woman who could not be satisfied. And now this? She leans back in her chair, folds her hands in her lap. “Do you know why your father is an only child?”
“What?” This conversation is taking on more twists than a corkscrew. God I need a glass of pinot right now.
She looks past me, not wanting to meet my eyes. “I never wanted children,” she says without emotion. “I love your father. He was a good boy, did everything I asked and more. I just believe some of us are not cut out to be mothers.”
Hearing that sends a dagger of pain straight to my gut. How much like her was I?
She continues. “I was more concerned about my career, traveling, and making money, stuffing it all away like some hibernating squirrel.” She turns her gaze back to me, checking for my reaction. I fight to show nothing and she continues. She clutches the chain around her neck for security. “When your grandfather died, I was devastated, but not in the way you think. Your father was only sixteen and truthfully, Mitch and I were going to divorce as soon as Steven turned eighteen and went off to college.”
I interrupt her story too curious to wait. “Did he give you that pendant?”
She nods, “It’s the one special gift I have from my husband. When he gave it to me, he said, ‘but nothing can outshine you, baby.’ He got sappy that way sometimes. And he was the only loving parent your dad knew. You would have enjoyed your grandfather. He was the complete opposite of me. So carefree and full of love. Perhaps that’s what brought us together; opposites attract and all.” She lets herself smile remembering her late husband, places a hand over the charm against her chest. Her reminiscent eyes tell me how special the pendant is to her. “Maybe if he was still alive, things would have been different. He might have made me see all this sooner.” We exchange looks as if we both know that’s not true. No one could ever convince grandmother of anything that wasn’t already in her head. “I understand what I’m asking won’t be easy.”
“Did you tell Dad?” I finally ask.
She nods. “He took it surprisingly well.”
I don’t mention my mother because we both know she’s more like my grandmother than Dad is, which is probably why he married her. She will not take this well. Even through her own illness and recovery, mom never wavered in her pursuit of the all-mighty dollar.
I let out a cleansing breath, trying to accept this new reality. “So, where do we go from here?”
“Brunch.”
●●●
In the car, tears drown my eyes as I finally let myself process all that grandmother has told me. I don’t fight them, let the tears spill out of my eyes and slide down my cheeks. The last time I cried was eight years ago when my mother was in the hospital. I sit for five minutes before pulling away. What am I most upset about? I don’t know why I should let myself be affected by grandmother’s sudden change in how to live her life. She’s right; I don’t need the money. It would have been nice to have, but for what? Still, why do I feel as though a rug has been swiped from beneath me? Part of my frustration, I believe, is that this epiphany shows how
close Rose must be to the end, and I’m not ready to think about that.
The entire drive home I go over her words. I have no choice in the matter as they keep playing in my head again and again. Especially, “I want you to give it away.” Why me? My father is semi-retired, has an absentee wife, and thirty more years of experience dealing with money than I do. My job is to help people save money. I have no idea how to give it away. I don’t want to whine it’s not fair, but damn this isn’t fair. How do I even begin?
When I pull into my driveway, I realize this will mean many more trips down to San Diego and much more time spent with my grandmother. The only thing I can do is try to see the positive side of this, which I plan to do, tomorrow. But what frustrates me now is that the one person I should turn to for help is the one person I am currently pissed at. I pick up my phone and tap a speed dial number. My heart races as four rings pass before voicemail kicks in. “Jax, it’s Sage. Call me when you get this message. I need to know what the hell you said to my grandmother!”
CHAPTER 17 - JAX
“What are you doing here?” I ask Ned as I shake out a Margarita and pour it into a glass. It’s Tuesday night at Thrusters. Valentine’s Day. Ned is standing, sandwiched between two guys’ elbows poking at his sides because there’s not a seat left in the place. It’s been almost a month since I saw him during my weekend with Emily and Sage.
“I came to talk to you about the party.” He takes a careful sip of the beer I served him, eyeing the burly guy on his right.
“I know about the party,” I say loud enough for him to hear me. The music is always up higher than I’d prefer, but tonight the conversations are even louder with people trying to convince themselves that it’s okay they are dateless on this night. I spent my day here doing the books for my boss, Matthew, and volunteered to work tonight. The accounting helps me make ends meet and spend less time behind the bar.
I pull back some empties and wipe down the counter a few feet away from him. I need to close out for a lady waving her card at me, so I turn from Ned even though he seems to have more to say.
The woman with her has not looked at me once since their arrival. Her eyes, thick and heavy with mascara, have been glued to a smart phone the entire time. The woman paying is clearly newly engaged. She’s waving that finger around like she’s trying to land Air Force One. Look, I’m engaged so it’s okay I’m alone on this day. I snag the card and step back over toward Ned to run it through. “So what’s the story?” I ask him.
“This is the first party since it happened,” he says with a shrug.
We exchange looks that say neither of us wants to think about what almost happened on that day. I remember arriving at the house, seeing Ned holding a bag of ice and talking to Rosa. Only part of the conversation came through to me, but I heard “James” and “emergency room.” Ned turned when I entered the room, eyes laced with fear. The bag hit the floor, and in an instant we were holding each other, listening to our hearts pound steadily along with the sounds of our breathing. Those two days were the nicest Ned and I had ever been to each other. It was the first time I didn’t see a silly smile plastered on his face and a smart-ass comment shooting from his lips. “So you’re worried about how Emily’s going to handle it?” I feel the hard gaze of the finger waver on me as I ignore her printed receipt and talk to Ned.
“Yeah. What has there been? Four birthdays between the three kids since it happened?”
“At least,” I answer. Emily had been so different back then, before James’s accident. “So what have you got in mind?”
“I hope this doesn’t make things worse. Sophie really pushed for it and Emily finally caved. I’m not sure she’s ready for that kind of stress. Remember what happened at the beach that time?”
I don’t have to try hard to recall the memory of Emily losing it because she had forgotten Ned was taking James to the restroom.
“Excuse me,” I hear squeaking from the side of the bar.
Ned gestures with his head and a smirk.
“I know,” I say. I turn to see her shooting eye daggers at me, so I tear off the receipt and carry it over to her. Diamond girl manages to hold the pen with her weighted down hand and scratch out her name and total, including a fifteen percent tip. I take it and smile, giving a thanks that they couldn’t care less about as they shake their asses toward the door.
I refill an ice tea and take another beer order before I return to Ned. We’ve done this intermittent conversation thing before, so he’s patient until my arrival. “So what do you want to do?”
“I have a plan. Can we talk about it when you get off?”
“I’m here for two more hours. Think you can handle it?”
He crooks a thumb to the right and says, “I’m stealing this guy’s chair as soon as he gets up. Then I’m going to harass you all night. So yeah, I can if you can.”
Twenty minutes later, the guy gets up and Ned slides into place with a triumphant grin. “So, where’s your bad boy? I thought you were getting him a job here?”
“Behind,” Gayle, our pregnant bartender, blurts out as she sidles by me with two full pints of beer.
“It didn’t work out,” I tell Ned. I set a shot, on the house, in front of him. Hopefully it will distract him from this line of questioning about Travis. Plus, he’s always nicer to me when he’s got a buzz.
He slams it back after giving me a suspicious stare. “Thank you, barkeep.”
“I prefer, mixologist,” I answer.
A couple I’ve known for years takes the seats that open up on the other side of Ned. Jason orders a mojito for his lady and then a New Castle for himself. As I’m mixing her drink, Ned asks, “So…what happened? The ex-con thing? Tough for people to take that chance?” He nods while screwing up his face in a condescending expression that tells me he’s not too fond of Travis.
“It was my mistake. I should have known he wasn’t allowed…” I catch myself and try to recover my shocked face.
Ned executes a slow, confident nod, courtesy of the Tequila. “Got it. So, I take it that this has something to do with the business of this particular establishment.”
I shake my head as I deliver the drinks to my friends. Ned won’t let this go, so I consider telling him about Travis. It’s not as if he swore me to secrecy. I just loathe gossiping. But, I won’t need to tell Ned because now he won’t keep his trap shut.
“I’m on to something, aren’t I? He can’t work here because you serve alcohol. So what did he do?”
I replace Ned’s empty beer with a new one, keeping my cautioning eyes on him. Then I walk away without a word to check in with my other customers. I glance back at him a few times to find him chatting it up with my friends. I decide to ignore Ned for a while. I talk with a group of three men who claim they had no idea it was Valentine’s Day. I play along, pretending to buy everything they are saying. They tell me they’re in town for some neuroscience convention, which could be true given that San Diego is a big convention destination. That and the fact that they look like stand-ins for the guys on Big Bang Theory. The tall one is attractive, but keeps staring at my chest. I’m used to it being behind the bar. When I bring them new drinks, I tilt my head to the side to lead his gaze to mine.
“Uh, I was uh, just looking for your name…Jax,” he says in a barely audible tone. “I’m Rob by the way.” His eyes dart away when they connect with mine.
“Well, Rob,” I say grabbing his empty glass. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Excuse me?” he says.
“Neuroscience, right? The study of the nervous system?”
He nods, wide-eyed, while his two friends stare at him, holding back grins.
“What?” he asks innocently.
I wipe down their area and smile before walking away. “You can breathe now, Rob.” I hear his friends laughing at him from behind me. I head straight to the back area to take care of some things, leaving Ned to fend for himself. My phone rings while I�
��m back there, so I step in the alley to answer it even though I see that it’s Dale. I can’t avoid him forever. Being at work will be my excuse to get rid of him quickly.
“Hey,” I say, my stomach knotting up.
“Jax, dammit, why don’t you answer my fucking calls?”
“I’m good, thanks. And you?”
He pauses, and I can hear him sighing. “Shit,” he whispers. “Jax, I’m sorry. I’ve got no right to talk to you that way. I’ve just been so worried about you.”
“No reason to. Shouldn’t you be out with your Valentine?” I hit that last word a tad too snidely, and I cringe at my pettiness. I don’t want him back.
“God, you were supposed to call me weeks ago about the test. You went to the doctor’s, right?”
I wasn’t trying to make him suffer. I just hated talking about this. “Yes, I went.”
“And?”
I never imaged I’d get myself into a situation like this. I’m sure the wait was killing him, and I let it go on; let him worry what the results would be of the HIV test I had to take because of him and Valerie. But it was because I didn’t want to face it, or him. “My first test was negative.” I wish I could say that with relief, but the thought of having to take another one to confirm it keeps me on edge.
“Thank God,” he says. “Mine, too. I should get my second test back any day now. I’m sure it will all be fine.”
Tony steps out into the alley for a cigarette break. I give him a half-wave. There is silence on the line. I know this is not Dale’s fault, but I’m not going to coddle him. Finally, he says, “You wish you never met me.”
“That’s not true,” I say honestly.
“But you think I’m an idiot for taking Valerie back. Especially after putting us through all this.”
“You needed to follow your heart. Now, I need to go back to work. Goodbye, Dale.”
I avoid Ned after the call, depressed and confused. When we make eye contact, I sense him trying to read my mind. I wonder if he can see right through me. I hope he won’t ask me to talk about it because I don’t want to tell him that Sage and Emily have been right all along. I need to get my shit together—build some sort of stable life. I always thought doing whatever I wanted would bring me freedom and happiness. Then why the hell am I not happy? The problem is, I don’t know how to changes things. Is it possible I only have the ability to bring others happiness?
