by Ewens, Tracy
The senator said nothing.
“Probably the first and last time you were ever caught with your pants down, am I right?” Grady’s laugh was laced with such anger, so much disgust, that his father physically felt the squeeze of it. He poured some more coffee, hands a bit shaky, and sat back down next to Grady.
Silence hung between them for a beat.
“That was a mistake. I told you back then, but you didn’t want to hear me. You shut me out after that. I’m a human being, son. I fuck up just like everyone else. Did I not tell you that when you were growing up? Did I give you the impression that I was—”
“A good man? A committed husband? Yeah, you kind of did, Dad. At the very least, we all had the impression you were an honest and decent father that would never risk his son walking in on—”
“You were ditching class. You should have been at school.”
“Yeah, and I sure as hell never ditched again.”
“And I am a good man, committed husband and an honest father. I messed up. Made a mistake at a time in my life when mistakes happen. I was figuring things out and I took a wrong turn.”
“Pfft . . . you think? I mean on the desk and everything, Dad. I suppose now that I’m older, I should say, ‘Well done!’”
The senator turned on him so quickly, Grady started. His father held his arm and despite the years, Grady’s accomplishments, his own physical strength, he was a child again. Preparing to receive his punishment.
“Don’t you dare. I am still you father. I don’t owe you a damn man-to-man explanation. I messed up and I have apologized.”
Grady looked right into his face. “Did you ever tell Mom?”
His father returned his glare. “No.”
“Don’t you think that’s the honest thing to do?”
“No.”
“Too much of a scandal for the political career? Afraid she’ll leave you?”
“No.”
“No? Then why not clear the air, let her know you screwed a twenty-four-year-old teacher on your desk in the middle of the damn day. A teacher that you knew your son had a crush on. I mean shit, let’s get it out there if you’re such a decent guy.”
His father released his grip on Grady’s arm and sat back in the chaise.
“This has nothing to do with politics. Telling your mother, bringing her into my mess, serves no purpose. It was a long time ago, it was one time.”
Grady snickered and his father turned to look at him.
“It was one time,” he said slowly. “One lapse in judgment. She doesn’t need to know. It serves no purpose. I love your mother deeply. She is my best friend and I owe it to her to live with the guilt and prove myself deserving of her love.”
Grady’s head dropped.
“Which I have done. I am not a scumbag. It has taken me a very long time to get here, but I rest easy, Grady. I’ve forgiven myself and I’m wondering why you can’t do the same.”
Grady laughed. “Do you have any idea what it was like walking in on that, on you?” Grady stood up, suddenly restless and boiling with so many things he realized were not as simple as anger. He turned to his father. “I worshiped you. You were everything, and then you were just some cheating bastard, like the rest of them, with your pants around your ankles.”
The senator stood and walked toward him.
“Grady, we are not defined by one act in our lives. You can’t—”
“Oh Jesus, please don’t quote some inspirational poster from your campaign headquarters. You were, defined as you put it, in that moment for me. I was fifteen, Dad. Confused, awkward, and trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. That time wasn’t, shouldn’t have been, about you. I wanted you to be, needed you to be, a father. My father.” Grady looked at the man in front of him and despite all his best efforts, his eyes watered and the senator reached for him. Grady pushed his hand away. “Shit, I don’t know. It was just a blow.”
“But you know what, it’s over. You’re right, it was a long time ago. I’m a grown man now. I’m sure I’ve done things you don’t understand,” Grady said.
“Not really. I mean you’re all kinds of stupid sometimes, but for the most part you’re an incredible son,” his father said.
Grady laughed. “Easy to say now that you’ve won the election.”
“Grady, this has nothing to do with the election. Contrary to what Stanley says, I would have won that election without your big reveal.”
“I didn’t reveal anything, remember?”
“Right. Something else for you to be pissed off about. Poor Grady was a closet do-gooder and now he has to be a man. You see, Grade, it’s easy to hide behind the mask. Sure you don’t get any recognition, which is why everyone thinks what you’ve done is so commendable, but you also don’t have to deal with any of the mistakes. Kind of weak, don’t you think?”
“Are you for real? You came to my home after you completely used me and my work to win your dog and pony show to tell me that I’m weak? Wow, well thanks for coming down, Dad.”
“I didn’t say you were weak. I’m just saying that it’s harder being out in front, under the always-scrutinizing eyes of the public. There’s pressure to not screw up. Maybe when your father let you down, embarrassed you and himself, you decided my public life, politics was to blame. Maybe to keep your heart from splitting open, you figured it was business, the pressure of my job, that turned me into something you hated.”
A tear escaped Grady’s eye and he quickly wiped it away. “I never hated you.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that—”
“I was scared, alone. I felt on my own that day. If I told mom, I’d lose you both. I had to grow up that day and it was too early for me to be on my own. I needed you, and after that, I just couldn’t count on you anymore. I didn’t know you anymore, but I’ve never hated you.”
His father took a deep breath as the pain of his mistake surfaced yet again. He faced him. “I’m sorry. If I could go back, if I could have gotten my head on straight back then, not turned down that path, I would, but I can’t. It had nothing to do with you or your mother. I messed up and I’m sorry, so sorry, that something so stupid came between us.”
His father hugged him and Grady felt years of angst, anger, and pain wash away into the crashing tide below his house. The sun was setting. Grady was older now, knew a bit more about being an adult, a man. Maybe that was why, or maybe he was just tired of being angry, so he let it go. His father wanted to be his father again, and Grady could sure use one.
“I love you, Grade.” The senator held his shoulders. “And I’m so damn proud of you.”
Grady smiled, wiped his eyes. “Thanks. I love you too.”
The senator hugged him again. “Christ, I miss the sound of that. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, well Miss Kramer was totally into me before you came along,” Grady laughed.
“Not funny,” the senator said.
“Too soon? Okay, maybe later,” Grady said, feeling such relief that he could finally make light. His chest opened up for the first time in nearly fifteen years.
The senator shook his head. “You always were a smart ass. So, can we move on now and discuss how you’re going to step up and run your multi-million dollar foundation?”
Grady’s smile dropped. “You mean now that your merry band of circus performers have exposed my private business?”
“Yeah, that,” the senator said, topping off Grady’s coffee. “Best thing that ever happened to you.”
“Oh, really. How’s that?” Grady said, taking a sip.
“Because look at you. It’s been a few days and you’re already starting your next project.” Grady searched his face for how he knew that. “Bryce and I played tennis last week.”
“Christ. You are everywhere, aren’t you?”
“I suppose I am, but this is exciting, and it’s time for you to put all this ‘oh poor senator’s son’ crap behind you. You’re a man, a damn smart and extremely acc
omplished man. You won’t screw up. I promise.”
Grady looked at him and didn’t know what to say. His father’s one sentence had explained what several months of therapy hadn’t been able to touch. Grady was scared to death of screwing up and making a mistake—in his real life, where it mattered. Sure he had no problem making stupid surface mistakes, but not something real. Not like the confusing, jumbled mess he’d seen in his father’s office all those years ago. He wouldn’t be able to bear that, couldn’t live with himself if he somehow turned into that.
“You have no way of knowing what I’ll do,” Grady said, leaning back on the chaise.
His father joined him. Both men looked out to the crashing sea as the sun dipped into the water, and daylight passed to the softer glow of evening.
“I do. I know, Grade. You have too much of your mother in you.” The senator smiled, still looking ahead. “You’ve got her in you, remember that. And if, and probably when, you stumble, misstep, you’ve got me in you too. Your mother and I, that’s a brilliant combination. You’ll be just fine, son.” He looked at Grady and then back out to the sunset.
Both men finished their coffee.
“Now, it’s time for you to kick some ass and do the work you were meant to do. Quit being such a damn baby.”
Grady laughed and felt less alone.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Grady met one of his best friend, Samantha, at Neptune’s Net in Malibu. They had fried clams, sat on the wood-planked patio, and watched the view of Highway 1 and the ocean.
“So, how are things?” Sam asked.
Grady smiled as he chewed some fries.
“Things, things are . . . pretty shitty, thanks for asking.”
“I heard from the guys and Peter that you are now out of the shadows. About time, don’t you think?”
“I’m not so sure. My all-important life will probably find some way to screw it up.”
“Grady, you are it. You’ve been running the thing for over twelve years now and doing a great job. Just think of the time you’ll save not playing Batman.”
He shook his head and looked out at a car of surfers packing up for the day.
“It’s a great thing you’ve done.” She touched his hand.
“We’ve done. We all have a part, that’s why it works. One of us isn’t the odd under-the-microscope leper.”
“You’re not a leper. You’re brilliant, thoughtful, and humble. Those are all you too, Grady. You’re not one thing, you know? What’s wrong with being it all, showing all of your sides? There’s no way you’re going to get Kate back without the whole package.”
“Great, this is great. She rats me out, exposes things I specifically asked her not to, and I need to work on getting her back? I don’t think so. I should have known better. This crap, being a Malendar, poisons everything.”
“Oh come on, you know she didn’t spill that information. She wouldn’t do that to you and you know it. You’re angry. Pissed that you can’t be the Dark Knight anymore—that you have to grow up and take responsibility for the great work you do. Accept praise and learn to deal.”
“I was doing fine before.”
“Really? Before Kate? You were what? Acting like an idiot and hoping no one caught on? Sorry, too late, she knows you now and in spite of it all, she loves you.”
Grady’s heart ached. “Have you seen her?”
“No, but Peter mentioned she was on the video conference when the board was discussing the PR for the new Police Resource Center. Said she looked awful.”
Grady knew that was not possible, but appreciated that his friends were trying to help.
“By the way, I saw the finished sculpture of dad, Peter’s dad.” Sam choked on her words. “It’s an incredible tribute, meant the world to Peter. What you do, how you use what you’ve been given, you give things soul, Grady. Something as cold as money or publicity and you make it human. It’s really beautiful. You should be proud. Step into the damn sunlight and take a bow, be with the woman you love. You deserve her, you deserve all of this.”
Grady wondered why the thought of deserving anything felt strange to him. When had that happened? He sighed.
“I’m glad you like it. I thought it was too much for him to design, so your future mother-in-law helped.”
“I know. She loved doing it. She loves you even more now than she already did. It’s pretty nauseating.”
He bumped Sam and they both kept eating.
“I never wanted to love her, you know?”
“Peter’s mom, oh that’s just nasty,” Sam said with a straight face.
Grady shook his head.
“I know. I’m pretty sure Kate’s plan was to stay hidden too, but it’s too late for both of you now. Election’s over. Remember when you told me to go get Peter, to jump?”
“Yeah, that was one of my better speeches, but you two were a wreck without me.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself. Anyway, it’s your turn to take the risk. It’s time for you to get a life.”
“I could always just become a biker,” Grady joked, looking out over the parking lot filled with dozens of Harleys. Sam laughed and put her arm around him. Looking out at the vast ocean, Grady was grateful for her, grateful for his friends.
“So, I love her,” he said, going for as casual as he could muster.
“I know.”
“It’s bad. Up at night, doodling on shit, can’t-focus-on-a-damn-thing love. How does anyone survive this?”
“You do. You become better for it.” Samantha smiled.
“She thinks I’m mad at her, that I blame her for all of this, and I did, I was, but now I just want her back. I want her in my home, I want to walk the dog with her and eat cereal.” Grady looked up because Sam hadn’t said anything and he was feeling stupid.
Sam’s eyes welled and her smile stretched until the tears streamed her cheeks.
“Oh Christ, Sam! Keep it together. I’m trying to tell you that I want Kate back, I want to marry her. I need your help. What am I supposed to say? How do I ask her?”
Sam wiped her eyes, took her oldest friend’s hands, and said, “Just like that.”
Grady was confused at first and then he saw what she was trying to tell him. He kissed Sam on the cheek, they finished their lunch, and he walked her to her car. He took Highway 1 home, and by the time Bo licked him silly and they had gone on their walk, Grady had a plan.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kate rang in the new year with Reagan and Ben at their new house. It was part open house, part New Year’s celebration. Kate had slept over in their guest bedroom, which would soon be a nursery. Kate smiled remembering their big announcement after the ball dropped. She should have known, she thought as she brushed her teeth, when Reagan didn’t have any champagne. Reagan was going to be a mommy. She pictured clay and markers everywhere. Ben would officially be the happiest man alive.
Kate walked down the stairs toward the kitchen. It was quiet. A sure sign Reagan and Ben were sleeping in because they were never quiet. Kate walked across the wood floor of the dining room and into the kitchen. She would just grab something quick and head home.
She stopped short when she saw Reagan and Ben both sitting at the large yellow enameled kitchen table, both of their faces in the newspaper. Kate rubbed her eyes and went to the coffee.
“Morning guys. Rough night, I didn’t even hear you in here,” Kate said, grabbing a mug and pouring some coffee.
“Morning,” said a third voice.
Kate spun around. She knew that voice. Sitting next to Ben was another man, in pajama bottoms, bare feet, with his face in the newspaper too. Kate knew that chest, knew those shoulders and the hands holding the LA Times. She couldn’t breathe. She set her coffee down and leaned against the counter.
Ben lowered his paper. “Hey Kate, can you hand me a bowl?”
“Oh yeah, me too,” Reagan said, lowering her paper.
Kate nodded and tur
ned toward the whitewashed cabinets.
As she reached for the bowls, the third voice said, “If you don’t mind, Kate. I’ll have one too.”
She looked over her shoulder, still touching the bowls, and there he was. Paper down, morning hair and stubble, in all his glory, Grady Malendar was sitting having coffee and reading the paper at her best friend’s house. Kate had no idea what was going on, but she was afraid to speak. She didn’t want to ruin it, just in case she was still dreaming. She wanted to spend a few more minutes looking at Grady.
Ben stood up and got the milk out of the refrigerator. Kate put the bowls on the table and stood there, staring at them.
“Kate, sit honey. Let’s have breakfast,” Reagan said, pushing a chair out for her with her foot.
Kate sat, still saying nothing, and noticed the boxes of cereal in the center of the table. Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms. Kate felt her throat tighten.
Grady had his face back in the paper. They all did. It was like she had stepped onto the set of some sitcom.
“Ben, did you read that article about the new exhibit at the Getty? We should take Reagan and Kate next week,” Grady said.
“I did see that. Looks great. I’ll look online for tickets,” Ben replied, folded his paper, and set it aside. “Kate, can you hand me the Lucky Charms?” Ben asked, as Reagan also folded her paper.
Kate tried to make eye contact, but Reagan was pouring herself a bowl of Lucky Charms. Since when did she eat Lucky Charms?
When she was done she handed the box to Grady, who did the same thing—folded his paper and poured a bowl of Lucky Charms. Kate couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay, what’s going on? What is this?” She looked at Reagan. “You don’t eat Lucky Charms.”
“I do now, honey. Must be the baby. Are you going to eat?”
Kate looked at Grady, who was across from her eating Lucky Charms. “Grady, what’s going on? Why are you—”
Grady picked up the box of Fruit Loops and handed it to her. The look on his face was so comfortable. Kate bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, to keep from babbling that she was so sorry, but she was so proud of him too. That she understood, but she missed him. She wanted to tell him that she just bought this great new mirror and hung it in the entryway to her apartment. She wanted to say so many things, but nothing came out.
