Chapter Sixty-Eight Grant
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Grant
OCTOBER
IT’S LATE. I’M TRUDGING up my porch steps when Dorothy speaks from the porch next door. “You regret it yet?”
“Regret what?”
“Don’t play stupid. I’m so tired of stupid men.”
I sigh, turn, and look over at where Dorothy’s quietly sitting in the dark, waiting to pounce. She lights a joint now, confirming that she has indeed been lying stealthily in wait for me.
“Yes.” I sink heavily into my porch chair. “I regret losing her.”
“Yeah, well, I was sad to lose her at Sugar.” A pregnant pause. “We had lunch today. She seems pretty good. Rae’s got chutzpah,” she says.
“She does.”
“You know I lost two good people because of you?”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, we lost Sam, though she’s back on as a consultant. Much better for everyone this way. Hourly work. A little freedom. And we don’t need to worry about her internet security at home.”
“I’m glad.”
“And then you made my jane-of-all-trades start saying no to everyone.”
“About time.”
“Yeah. I should have nipped it in the bud earlier. I waited too late. Now she’s gone.”
“You’re blaming me for this?”
“Nah. I’m just teasing you. Don’t blame you for either one. Although the way you’ve been slinking around lately, you’d be an easy target if I wanted to.”
I laugh, though there’s not much humor in it.
I am bone-tired after a long day at the house I’m renovating over on Floyd.
It’s a good one. Not as big as mine and nowhere near the bigger projects I’d planned to take on, but it’s got details that’ll make someone very happy.
The downtown building’s progressing with a big, professional crew, but nothing’s quite as satisfying as working with my own hands.
I stayed extra late tonight, hoping to block out the fact that Rae might be out, just a few blocks away, dressed to the nines, the brightest, most beautiful person in the entire club.
I guarantee she’s got a string of Doms by now. I hope it’s a string and not one. The day she finds a Dom she wants to stick with… That’ll just about kill me.
There’s a light trill at my feet, and Devil Cat bumps my leg.
I bend and pick her up, smiling at the little bite she gives me before allowing me to scratch her ear.
From the incredibly bizarre calico pattern on her body to her creepily mismatched eyes, she is flat-out the ugliest creature I’ve ever seen.
“Like I said, Rae seems pretty happy now that she’s off doing her own thing.”
“Does she?” I can’t help hoping it’s her work making her happy and not a man. Devil Cat’s purring gets extra loud as my scratching gets harder.
“I’m sad she left us, but making those little doohickies has just lit her right up.”
“The book nooks.”
“Yeah. Love those things. She’s killing it. Too busy to make one for me.”
I picture Rae in her tiny home, making her little book nooks. My chest hurts, the way it does every time I think of it. I’ll admit that I’ve watched her socials exploding in real time. As of her last post, she’s closed to commissions. Too busy. Too popular. Too everything.
Something drops with a thud on Dorothy’s porch, followed by a second thud. “My dogs are barkin’.”
“Pretty tired myself. I’ll just head in and—”
“I love my kid. You know that, right? Only good thing to come out of my marriage. But I sometimes wish she had a little of that Rae magic, you know? That…”
“Zest for life?”
“Yeah. Some of that. Ambition and… the other thing.”
I know exactly what she means.
“She rubbed off on you for a minute there,” Dorothy says.
“What?” I look over.
“At the retreat. You were fun. I liked that Grant.”
“So, what am I now? Chopped liver?”
“Ah, you’re all right.” She exhales. “But you were better as part of a couple. With Rae.”
“I’m not a couples guy.”
Dorothy scoffs. “You are the very definition of a couples guy, kid.”
“How so?”
“First of all, you’re boring.”
“Jesus, Dorothy, don’t hold back.”
“You need Rae.”
“I don’t need anyone.” This feels so much like a lie that I have trouble getting the words out. Sensing my weakness, Devil Cat nips at my finger. I move my scratching to her chin.
“You do. She elevates you.”
She does… No, did, dammit. She made me feel… so much bigger. So much more than what I’d set out to be.
“Seriously, though. What are you doing with yourself? You look like hell.”
“I work.”
“Right. Anything else? Do you even have a hobby?”
“Making money.”
“Not a hobby. Not even, in my opinion, a valid use of your time, much less your humanity.”
“You make money.”
“I matchmake. Money’s a side effect. But Rae? She’s… a spark. For a guy like you, who’s held himself in check so long, if you’d just let her light you up, you’d be able to… to…”
“Live.”
I can’t believe I’ve said the word aloud. It feels simultaneously like the most pathetic admission I’ve ever made, and the most freeing.
With Rae, I was alive.
Am I even living right now? Is this how life’s supposed to feel?
Dorothy hums a long, low sound. There is zero judgment in it, and for some reason, that makes me feel even worse.
“I can just picture the two of you. You’d be happy, kid. Like you were at the retreat. But also a wreck, running around after Rae, working hard to keep her happy while she fixes up the world. It’s what you want, isn’t it?” She laughs a silent, stoner’s laugh. “There’s a damn hobby for you.”
I shake my head, shut my eyes hard, and then open them, craning my head to catch a glimpse of stars through the glare of streetlights. Nothing. Not a one.
“Listen, Grant, let me tell you what you’ve got going for you. One: You’ve got a nice house, and despite what you claim, it’s more than just an investment. It’s obviously been a labor of love. Those corbels. The reclaimed brick. That’s not investment-level stuff.”
I put out a hand and run it over the railing I sanded by hand, painted twice before finding the right color. “So, I’ve got a house.”
“Two: Though you work hard to hide it, you’re a decent human being. Better than decent.”
“Oh, please.”
“I swear you’ve got a radar for when Malika comes home with groceries. You’re there, ready to carry them. The other day, we both realized that neither of us has taken the garbage to the curb once this year. What is up with that?”
“I like to help.”
“Yeah, well, I appreciate you. And you know how I feel about men.”
“Not great,” I concede with a smile.
“Yeah, not great. You’re a natural caretaker, fighting those instincts tooth and nail, and you know, it’s funny because Rae was forced into the caretaker role through circumstance. She’s only slowed down now thanks to you. You helped her snap out of it.”
“You’re matching our traumas.”
Even in the dark, I see the glare of her eyeballs as she gives me a long, sarcastic Dorothy stare.
“No way,” I say as realization hits. “That’s the key to your algorithm? Your big trade secret? Holy shit, Dorothy. I can’t decide if you’re a genius or a creep.”
“Not mutually exclusive.”
“That’s some evil mastermind shit.”
“Glad you recognize the genius at work.”
Her front door swings open, and Malika sticks her head out.
“Ah, my sidekick calls.”
“It’s late. You coming?”
“Yes, madame.” Dorothy creaks to a stand, reaches out, and hands me her half-smoked joint.
“Refer to me as your sidekick again, Dorothy, and I will sidekick you out of bed.” Malika looks over at me. “Night, Grant.”
“Night, you two.”
I watch them go in together, to sleep. To live. To be a couple. Two such different people from entirely different backgrounds who make each other happy.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I scramble with the joint and the phone, pull it out, and read a new text from my mom.
Mom: Sorry it’s late. Wanted to say you are right. You are right and I am so sorry. I broke it off with Henri tonight. I’m… being single.
And just like that, my entire perspective shifts.
If Mom can be single for the first time in forty years… maybe… What if…?
I stare at the joint in my hand, consider finishing it off, and decide I’ve got way too much to do if I’m gonna do this right.
I stomp down into the tiny front garden and put the joint out in the dirt before standing and looking up at the sky again. From here, I can see a few stars. Not the millions that blinked in the sky above our canoe that night, but a few. Enough to show me the way.
Perspective. That’s what I was missing. Well, that and the motivation to change. Now, somehow, in the few weeks since I met Rae, I realize exactly how much she gave me of both.
She changed my life. Changed my whole world. Why couldn’t I see it? Or at the very least admit it?
My perspective was off, that’s all. Now I’ve got to show her that I’m worth taking back. Worth loving. That’s all.
Please, I think, staring up at the only three stars twinkling hard enough to cut through the city’s glare, please, don’t let it be too late.