“Who stores this with the measuring cups?” she asked with a laugh. “Shay, can you grab us some wine glasses?”
“I think we should wait too.”
My words seemed to fall on my grandmother’s deaf ears, though I know she could hear perfectly. I couldn’t think of what to say as I watched her find three glasses and open the wine bottle. She poured herself half a glass and took a sip.
“Mmm . . . good choice,” she said.
That did it. I picked up my phone and zapped Aunt Laura another text.
Help! They’re here!
This time my aunt responded: On my way!! Sorry!
I couldn’t tell if she was exasperated, sympathetic, or something else.
“So how’s school?” My grandfather might’ve sensed my discomfort, and as usual, he tried to smooth things over with small talk.
“Fine,” I said.
“Make any new friends?”
I nodded.
“What are their names?”
I crossed my arms. “Pawpaw, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“See?” My grandmother waved a hand toward me, holding her glass in the other. “That right there is exactly what I was talking about, Greg.”
My grandfather’s name was also Greg. Same as my father’s.
“She’s still playing the same games.”
“I’m not playing games.”
My grandmother faced me. She wore a silky white blouse with decorative stitching along the buttons. A delicate gold necklace hung from her neck and rested on freckled skin.
“You’re too sensitive, Shay. Your grandfather was just trying to be nice, but could you answer his simple question?”
“I just didn’t want to talk about—”
“You never want to talk about anything!” Grams sipped her wine, and I wondered why she was doing this here and now. “We ask you how your day was, you say fine. We ask what you want for dinner, you say you don’t care. What are we supposed to do with that?” Grams’s voice was rising. “We gave you everything we had, and you thanked us by . . . How could you have done this to us, Shay? After all that we’ve done for you?”
Whenever I got upset, my eyes seemed to have a will of their own. No matter how hard I tried, tears would come. I tried to blink them away, then opened wider hoping to stop them, but they still filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“That’s why you’re here, you know,” Grams said. “Because I can’t deal with your attitude anymore.”
“Honey . . .” My grandfather’s voice was almost a whisper.
“No, Greg. She needs to hear this.”
“I think she already has.”
“Really?”
My grandparents stared each other down. I knew they were hurting far more than either of them probably realized, but I was too. I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand.
That’s when the apartment door opened, and Aunt Laura waltzed in. “Hi, everyone!”
Feigned smiles slipped onto my grandparents’ faces, and they greeted my aunt. She looked at me, and I saw the moment she realized I was upset, given the slight wrinkling of her brow.
“Shay, why don’t you take these and then walk Stanley, okay?” Aunt Laura handed me two paper bags with the logo of the Italian restaurant a few blocks away. I was starving, but I wasn’t sure if I could eat right now.
I took the bags and set them on the counter, grabbing Stanley’s leash off the wall peg. Outside, I didn’t care if the cold made me shiver or if I ever went back in there. I let a few tears fall and walked the greyhound in the small grassy area that was my aunt’s backyard. Then I sat on the bottom step of the apartment’s stairs and rested my head in my hands.
Could I stay out here the whole time they visited?
I knew I couldn’t, but I entertained the idea of hanging out in the bookstore for at least an hour. Instead, I pulled out my phone and contemplated texting or Snapchatting my friends.
I finally texted Tessa.
Grandparents over for dinner. Not going well.
It took a minute, but she texted back: Aw, so sorry! I’ll pray.
My tears returned at her words. It was silly, really. But in that moment knowing my friend was praying for me meant more than she probably realized. I glanced back up at the apartment. My grandparents were Christians, but I knew their son’s death had shaken their faith to the core. I once heard a preacher say storms either strengthened your faith or tore it down entirely, and my grandmother’s faith especially seemed to have deteriorated. God was the One who knew her heart, but she never used to drink either. And it scared me to see her do it now so openly.
I held my phone and stared at the text thread. Should I tell her more? I wasn’t sure what the rules of newish friendships were in situations like this.
I finally typed: Grandmother brought wine. Makes me uncomfortable.
Tessa: Why is that?
Me: She never used to drink.
Tessa: That’s upsetting.
I hesitated to share more, but I needed to get it off my chest. I typed: A drunk driver caused the accident that killed my dad.
Tessa never used emojis, but her response was a crying face.
It’ll be okay, I tapped.
Tessa: Talk more later? I just got to my swim meet.
Me: Yes. Have fun.
I put away my phone and climbed back up the stairs before Stanley could start shivering. Just a micro connection with a friend who cared gave me enough energy to dry my tears and walk back inside.
The table was set, and a steaming pan of lasagna sat on the table along with a loaf of garlic bread and tossed salad. That was something I was discovering about my aunt. Garlic, bread, and butter. They were staples in her kitchen.
“Hungry?” Aunt Laura asked when I sat down, but I could see the question in her eyes of whether I was okay or not.
I nodded and gave her a real smile. “Starving.”
My grandparents seemed to have settled down, and when we all were finally sitting together, my grandfather bowed his head, ready to pray. “Shall we say grace?”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank You, Lord, for this food,” he said. “May You bless it as well as our time together here. In Your name we pray. Amen.”
I echoed him and accepted my aunt’s offering of a huge slice of the meat sauce lasagna dripping with mozzarella. Stanley rested beside me, his dark eyes watching for any signs of a dropped morsel. Aunt Laura had made it clear he wasn’t supposed to have people food or to be rewarded for begging. His new family might not like it.
“So how’s the business?” My grandfather began.
For the next few minutes my aunt carried the conversation, sharing about the bookstore and how she wanted to bring in local music acts and maybe even an official coffee bar to the place. I knew a few of the kids at school had started a band. I wondered if they’d want to come and perform here. It might give me some points in the popularity contest to be the owner’s niece. Not that I cared too much about being popular, but maybe girls like Kelsey and Jade would leave me alone if I had some of that clout.
“Is Shay staying out of trouble?”
Surprise. My grandmother couldn’t seem to get off the subject of my being a burden.
Aunt Laura smiled. “She’s been great.”
“I imagine it’s quite the adjustment having a child in the house.”
My aunt cocked her head. “Florence, I don’t mean to be rude, but Shay’s a good kid. We’ve all had to make adjustments, her included. But we’re making it work.”
I stared into my lasagna and felt my heart warm toward my aunt.
“I’m not sure about the good part these days, but I do hear what—”
“Excuse me?” Aunt Laura said as she set down her fork.
“I think you heard me, Laura.”
My aunt glared at Grams for a second. “And I think maybe we need to change the subject here because I’m not liking where this is goi
ng.”
“The truth isn’t always easy to hear.”
“Agreed,” Aunt Laura said.
“Guys, I’m right here.” I pushed my plate toward the center of the table.
“Okay, look. Let’s all just take a deep breath.” My aunt sipped from her water glass. “We’re family. Let’s remember that.”
Grams reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass. She didn’t ask my grandfather but went ahead and refilled his, too. “Not to be nitpicky, but technically, that’s not entirely true.”
Her words hit me like ice water in the face. For a second I thought she was talking about my aunt, who wasn’t related to either of them. That would’ve been bad enough. But no. She was talking about me. Her son had been my father through adoption, not blood.
My aunt stared at my grandmother in disbelief and then shook her head. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Don’t get me wrong; we’re happy to be grandparents, but . . .”
“But what?”
Pawpaw, who’d remained quiet, as usual, for most of the conversation, placed his hand on his wife’s arm.
She didn’t seem to notice. “It explains things is all I’m saying.”
“And what exactly does it explain, Florence?”
It was weird to hear my grandmother’s first name. I’m not sure if it was a good thing or not that my aunt wasn’t letting this go. Do I really want to hear what my grandmother has to say? Maybe it was better to just imagine she’d misspoken.
Grams leaned forward over her plate, her blouse nearly touching the marinara sauce. “My Greg was a good boy.”
I got where she was going. Because I didn’t share her son’s genes, it explained the mess I’d made. If I was really her granddaughter, I would never have dreamed of screwing up. I would be perfect.
“Your Greg was her”—my aunt pointed at me—“father. Period.”
Except that wasn’t entirely true, was it? I thought about the photo of Mason King on my phone. I could whip it out and show it to my grandmother right then and there. Guess what? My real father is a famous horse trainer. A celebrity. He made a name for himself and isn’t a screwup.
Grams started to respond, but Aunt Laura held up her hands. “You know what? That’s enough. End of subject. This is my house, and this gets tabled. Right now. Let’s just eat our dinner and talk about the weather or the Colts or even politics.”
My grandmother’s lips pursed, but she leaned back in her chair and started in on her lasagna again. A small, red sauce stain blotted her blouse, and I wondered if it would ever come clean.
Chapter 12
I WAS IN BED when Tessa’s text came in.
Tessa: Are you asleep?
Me: I’m trying but can’t.
Tessa: How did the dinner go?
Me: Ugh.
Tessa: That bad?
Me: Grams said some really hurtful things.
Tessa: I’m so sorry.
Me: Me too.
Tessa: You don’t have to share, but you can if you want.
Me: She thinks I’m a loser.
Almost a minute went by before Tessa responded back. I hope you know you’re not. You’re really smart and I admire your strength.
Me: I don’t feel smart or strong.
Tessa: That doesn’t mean you aren’t.
I almost told her the truth of why my grandmother felt I’d let her down. Of the secret I’d carried for months now. The one Jade and Kelsey seemed to know and were holding over me. But I couldn’t. Tessa believed I was smart and strong. That would all change if she knew.
Me: I don’t think she knows who my bio father is.
Tessa: Did she say something?
Me: Implied I wasn’t family.
Tessa: Oh, Shay, I’m sorry.
The tears came again, and I let them fall. Stanley stretched out his legs and almost pushed me off the bed, but his warm doggie body was comforting. I didn’t feel quite as alone with him beside me, and Tessa’s words offered solace.
I remembered how many of my classmates stood in drama class because they’d felt lonely, Tessa among them.
Me: In Drama, when Ms. Larkin mentioned loneliness, we all stood up.
Tessa: I know.
Me: When do you feel lonely?
Another minute passed, and I stared at my screen waiting for my friend’s response. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. It might be too personal. We were already in new territory here, and I wondered if the safety of the phone screen was allowing us to share more than we would in person.
Tessa texted, At night sometimes. The house is so quiet. Sometimes I hear my mom crying.
One time in my life I’d seen my dad really cry, and it had practically scarred me. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to listen to your mom grieve like that. I couldn’t imagine having a mom period, but I tried to. It wasn’t as if I could ask my friends, “Hey, what’s it like?” How could you even qualify that? I knew Aunt Laura was trying, but it wasn’t the same.
That must be hard, I responded.
Tessa: Yeah. But maybe it’s normal.
Me: LOL. I’ve been searching for normal ever since my dad died.
I rested my phone on my chest for a minute, and the room went black. I could hear my aunt still puttering around in the apartment. I hated that she’d had to change her entire life around just for me. She used to be able to play her favorite music at night while she worked in her own office. Now she was straightening up the corner of her living room trying not to make too much noise. Is she counting the days until I turn eighteen and can legally move out?
I decided to change the subject.
Me: Hey, there’s a meteor shower coming up this weekend.
Tessa: Really?
Me: The Leonids. Would you want to watch it with me?
Tessa: That sounds fun!
Me: You could come over to my house.
Tessa: Your aunt wouldn’t mind?
Me: She’d love to officially meet you.
Tessa: I’d love that too. I better get to bed now.
Me: Me too.
Tessa: Good night, friend.
Me: ’Night.
“Shay!”
It wasn’t Amelia calling my name.
I kept walking across the school parking lot hoping to make it to the safety of the building.
“I know you heard me, girl.”
No such luck.
Jade stepped into my path next to a red pickup truck that belonged to Matthew Lucas, my World History teacher and the robotics team head coach. He went to Izzy’s church.
Kelsey came up behind me. “Think she’s spontaneously gone deaf?” She pushed me from behind toward Jade, hard enough that I stumbled to catch my balance, yet not so hard that it couldn’t look like she’d accidentally bumped me.
“If I’m not mistaken, I think she’s ignoring us. Is that right, Shay?”
“I have to get to class.”
They both laughed. “Why would you ignore us?”
“Look, I don’t know what you want from me.” I swung around so I could have both of them in my line of sight. I couldn’t back up because of the truck, and they were two feet from me, but if this became a problem, I could probably scream loud enough for someone to come running. But if I did that, I’d be the sissy, nerd girl who cried wolf, and I knew Jade and Kelsey would concoct some story that made me look bad or sound like a liar.
“Did we say we wanted something?”
I actually let out a curse word.
“Oooh,” Kelsey said. “She’s not such a prude.”
I’d feel guilty for that later, I knew. My dad had taught me to keep my mouth clean. What if Tessa or the other girls heard me say that?
“Just stop,” I said. “How do I know you’re not playing me, that you have nothing on me at all, and this is all some stupid game?”
Kelsey suddenly grabbed me by the front of the coat and stuck her face inches from mine. She called me a name.
“
You really want to test it?”
It took everything in me to keep from shoving her away, but I knew reacting would provoke another fiery encounter.
“Get your hand off me.”
Kelsey let go with a laugh, then brushed the front of my coat like she was trying to help me out all along. Then she told me exactly what I didn’t want to hear. It was clear. My secret was not a secret after all.
“Believe me now?”
I didn’t move. She wasn’t bluffing.
I’d been counting on her bluffing.
“I . . . don’t get it,” I said, hating the tremor in my voice.
Kelsey made her own voice tremble to mock me. “What don’t you get now, orphan girl?”
“Why you’re doing this.”
Jade elbowed Kelsey. “It’s too fun keeping you guessing.”
They both left me there, nearly shaking with anger. Maybe that was the whole point. Not to get anything from me but just to soak in the feeling of power. Still, I did not want the whole school knowing why I’d ended up moving to Riverbend.
Tessa met me at my locker, and she was all smiles.
“I haven’t watched a meteor shower in ages,” she said.
I was determined not to let her see how shaken I was. I amped up my voice to match hers. “So you’ve seen them?”
“Oh, yeah. My dad and I . . .” She started to grimace but then seemed to catch herself. She was getting better at making his absence the new normal in her life, but I knew it still hurt. Her dream father-daughter trip to Iceland with him had fallen through because of his affair, and he’d taken his new girlfriend instead. “He and I used to drive outside the city limits to where the sky was dark. We watched the Geminids one year freezing our butts off on the roof of the car.”
I laughed. “Ever seen the Perseids?”
Tessa shook her head.
“Me either! Every stinkin’ year it’s either rainy or cloudy.”
“Will we even see them at your house?”
“Not perfectly, but I think my aunt will let us use her balcony. We might be able to see a few from there.”
We agreed to meet Saturday evening. She’d have to stay the night since the best viewing was in the predawn hours. I actually wasn’t sure how I felt about having a friend sleep over. We didn’t know each other that well yet, but maybe that was the point. Friendships were tested in the wee hours. If we didn’t drive each other crazy, then we could know ours would last.
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