30. Grady
CHAPTER THIRTY
Grady
The door chimes my arrival, and all eyes turn toward me—I’ve interrupted something. Marina stands at the counter (now in the center next to The Canteen), holding up a rumpled manila envelope while her other hand is attached to her hip. Wade, Christie, and Roy stand in front of her as if on the receiving end of a lecture. Wade rubs the bridge of his nose. Christie shakes his head, flapping his dangling earrings. Roy looks aghast.
“I stand by it,” he says, hands splayed over his protruding belly. “I don’t get what the big deal is.”
Marina sighs, returning her attention to them. “The big deal is that it’s completely and utterly inappropriate.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, moving in beside her.
“Yeah, let’s get Grady’s opinion,” Roy argues while the other two shake their heads like it’s the worst idea ever. “He’ll back me up.”
Marina smiles weakly, handing me the large envelope. “Roy got me a present.”
The puffy envelope is soft. There’s a phone number scribbled on it under the name Bobby . I lift the flap and pull out the cheap, sateen fabric. Ogling the light green, frilly thing , it takes me a minute to realize what it is. The enormous cups give it away.
“What the fucking hell, Roy?” I bark, tossing the lacy, emerald green baby doll nightie at him.
He catches it, holding his hands up submissively. “You, too? Dang it. I thought it was a nice gesture.”
“A nice gesture?” I demand, furious. “She’s young enough to be your daughter, perv!”
He shrugs. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s her color. Soft and pretty, like her. I thought she’d like it.”
“It’s sexual harassment, dumbass!”
Marina’s hand curls around my bicep, holding me in place. “Relax, Grady. He meant well. He’s just being a numpty.”
Everyone goes silent, staring at her.
“What the fuck is a numpty?” Wade asks.
“Sorry, it’s a British version of a bonehead,” she says, shrugging. “Too much PBS.”
Christie, Roy, and Wade nod in unison at this new fact, as if she regularly blows their minds this way.
I groan. “How does he mean well , gifting you lingerie?” I fume, truly ready to drag his ass behind the store and beat him senseless like I’m a damn teenager, blood pumping with hormones and idiocy. I don’t care how macho-dumbass I’m being. Roy thinking about her, Roy imagining her in something like that, Roy imagining her at all pisses the reason and sensibility right out of me. My hands fist at my sides.
Still holding my arm, like she knows what I want to do, Marina explains, “He got me this after a discussion we had, the four of us, about how we’re all single and what Seagrove’s dating scene, or lack thereof, is like.”
“Such a nice talk. Affirming and supportive,” Christie chimes in. “We told Marnie about the singles night they do at Rebellion and how she should give it a shot. She’d have a much better chance than us old farts.”
“I explained that, first of all, none of us need a partner to feel fulfilled or happy,” she says. “And that dating is off the table for me.”
My eyes cut to hers, but she avoids my gaze.
“You said you’d never date again,” Christie corrects, his bushy brows perched high on his wrinkled forehead, “which made us all sad.”
“Hearing that bummed us the fuck out,” Wade says more empathically. “We respect your independence. You don’t need a man. But swearing off dating sounds like you’re giving up rather than deciding you don’t want it. And when have you ever given up on anything?”
“ That’s why I did it,” Roy jumps in, “to encourage her to get back out there. There’s no good reason a fine lady like her should go unattached for long. Got her my cousin’s number, too.” He taps the envelope I’m still holding. “He’s her age, likes a good time, and gets out in a few days.”
“Gets out of what?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Jail. Just some unpaid parking tickets. Nothing violent. Anyway, Marnie could use a rebounder, right? He’d make a fun pizza delivery boy if you know what I mean.”
The asshole dares to laugh.
“Roy, best shut up now. You’re asking for a beating,” Wade says with a huff.
“Why? She’s an attractive woman, stuck with us all day. She needs something else in her life, someone to keep her warm at night,” he says enthusiastically. “Besides, it’s not like you want her, Grady. You’ve made that?—”
“Stop fucking talking,” I snap.
Marina’s hand falls from my arm, and the room stills. They probably don’t see the hurt etched on her face. It disappears when she replants her signature smile and focuses on Roy.
“Roy, I appreciate the kind gesture—you were thinking of me… not about me. But the only person you should give a gift like this to is an intimate partner. Not a friend or co-worker.”
“We’ll have to add it to the rules,” Wade chuckles.
“We’re tainted by our bachelor ways,” Christie says. “It’s so good you’re here, Marnie.”
Her muted smile returns at the compliment. “It’s good for me, too. All this change we’ve gone through together has been tough. But the store looks beautiful, we’re a wonderful team, and we learn from each other every day.”
They nod in unison—leave it to Marina to turn an outright offense into a teaching moment. Even my hands unfurl under her calm tone and easy smile.
“Something you fellas have taught me is that we all have a story,” she says, “and things we need to let go of, right?”
They nod again.
“Roy’s excessive porn habits perhaps, but more than that, his lack of purpose and identity after losing his former career…”
Roy nods and removes his hat reverently.
“… Christie, your ex and all the unkind and untrue words she said to you,” she lists off, moving from one to the other, “and Wade, your guilt and grief.”
“You have grief, too, Marnie,” Christie says softly.
Her voice catches, but she maintains her smile. “Yes, I do.”
For a moment, I wonder if she’s told them. Their sympathetic looks echo with understanding, but I suppose it could come from any of her losses and doubt she’d reveal something so personal to these… numpties. Still, I feel like I’ve skipped an entire season of a show I created, and everyone’s undergone cathartic changes except for me. Maybe I’m the numpty here.
Roy hands Christie the babydoll negligee. “You want that, Christie?”
“Course, Roy. Gem colors bring out my eyes,” he answers. “Right, Marnie?”
“It’s because you’re a gem,” she smirks, and everything suddenly feels lighter.
“May I suggest a cleansing ceremony?” Wren emerges from behind the counter like a gothic princess, timing her intervention. I hadn’t seen her there, as if her black garb made her blend into the background. “To release our negative energies?”
Marina bounces on her sneakers, bringing my eyes to her tight, worn jeans and green tank top. A broken belt loop dangles as she moves, making me want to tug it and pull her into me, especially after Roy’s remark about me not wanting her. What does he know?
“I love, love, love that idea!” she claps. “What if we each wrote down the things we need to let go of, and then… I don’t know—something symbolic of letting go?”
“We’ll make them into paper boats,” she says, “and we’ll set them free on the swamp.”
“Perfect! Look at you, so creative!” Marina beams. “What do you think, fellas?”
They exchange sheepish looks as if worried about what the others will say if they agree to it first. It’s not exactly normal operating procedure for them. They don’t even appear to be drinking today.
Wade speaks first. “I, um, well, there are a few things I could write down.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Roy agrees.
Christie gives his friends a proud grin. “It’s a beautiful idea. Let’s do it.”
Marina grabs a spiral notebook from a nearby shelf and tears out pages, handing one to everyone, including me. I ball up the rumpled manila envelope I’m still holding, ready to throw it away.
She grabs it instead. “I’ll hang on to that, thank you very much. Hey, Roy, is Bobby cute?”
“Oh, quite the looker,” he nods. “Still has all his own teeth. Not everyone loves the face and neck tatts, but his soulful brown eyes cover a multitude of sins. Know what I mean?”
“Hmm,” she smiles dreamily.
I snatch the envelope away. “You will not.”
Her brow cocks like she might call him just to spite me. Still, she doesn’t retrieve it from the trash can I toss it in. She hands everyone a pen from the case tucked into her green notebook and then brushes by me.
“Let’s meet at the pier in an hour,” she tells the group. The door chimes as she exits.
I debate following her, but my feet move before my head catches up, and I’m out the door with Elena’s words echoing. Just go to her, Grady.
She doesn’t stop moving until she reaches the end of the old pier, where her shoulders straighten as she inhales the warm spring air. I edge beside her, not knowing what to say, especially since we don’t apologize anymore. Fucking Roy. Should I apologize anyway? I never said I didn’t want her.
But I can’t admit I do, either.
Before I say anything, she giggles, hand to mouth, eyes watering, and shoulders scrunched together. Her cheeks redden with her laughter. I gawk at her, dumbfounded, but can’t help the smile that crests my mouth.
Playing witness to the three stooges back there is funny.
Watching her laugh about it is, too.
Maybe she’s right—I need to relax.
She waves a hand over her face, drying her watery eyes. “Those three… they tickle me every day.”
“Don’t tell them that. They might get the wrong idea and do it for real.”
More laughter erupts, sending a nearby cardinal flapping away. “I could barely hold it together back there. I didn’t want to make him feel bad. He bought it from Walmart. Said it was either that or a box of condoms, ribbed for my pleasure .”
She curls over in giggles like she can’t stop. “Wish you could’ve seen the looks of horror on Wade and Christie’s faces.”
I buckle with laughter, imagining it.
“Did you see the cup size on that thing? I couldn’t fill that with tube socks!” she howls.
“All women are voluptuous porn stars to Roy.”
Her giggle is infectious—I haven’t laughed this hard since before…
“And his cousin,” she cackles. “Gosh, that was the cherry on top.”
“Oh, so you were just playing with me about calling him? Thank God.”
“You know how much I love seeing you get brotherly , Grady Tripp.”
I groan, my laughter dwindling.
“Or were you jealous of jailbird Bobby?” she goads.
“Well, he does have all his teeth and face tatts,” I play along. “I’ll dig it out of the trash if you’re so inclined to call him.”
Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Ah, that’s okay.” She taps her temple. “Already memorized it.”
“Fine, call him. Have a good time. Then, imagine Bobby giving Roy all the juicy details of your date. Do you want those images in that mind?”
She slumps, smirking. “Ah, you just ruined Bobby for me.”
“Better to ruin him before his next sentence starts, right?” I smile, but it falls fast— I was jealous . “I, um, apologize for them, though I know we’re not supposed to do that. The world has left them behind, and they’ve enjoyed watching it go.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Grady Tripp. I’m bringing the world to them, with Wren’s continued help, of course.”
“I don’t doubt it, darling.” There’s that word again.
Our chuckling dies into a soft silence that has me thinking, probably too much.
“It’s good to laugh,” she says with a breath.
“If you’re not laughing…” I say, letting my voice trail off like she did at the hospital when she said the same thing. A beat later, I ask, “Never dating again, huh?”
She shrugs.
“You’ll get over Ashe,” I say after another hesitation.
She grunts. “I am over Ashe. Over him. Over Sunny’s. Over it. I don’t even need to put him on my list. That’s not why.”
“Then, why?” I turn away from the eerie swamp’s full-sky reflection, preferring to see her instead. “Talk to me.”
She plops onto the dock, sitting cross-legged with her paper pressed against her notebook in her lap. She tucks her pen behind her ear. I sit across from her the same way, awaiting her explanation, though I already suspect what she will say.
“Truth,” I say when she gets quiet. “It’s okay.”
“Truth is, I don’t want to make you feel worse.”
“The only way you can do that is by not talking to me.”
She scoffs. “That’s what you’ve been doing to me. Why should I be the open book when you slam yours shut every time we’re together?”
“I don’t slam it.” I rake a hand over my head. “You’re better at being an open book, but I’m trying. Tell me why you’ve sworn off dating.”
She sighs. “Fine. It’s not so simple for me anymore. Imagine how nerve-wracking it would be to start with someone new, only to tell him I come with a disclaimer? Then, if I like him, hoping that he’ll be okay with it. Then, feeling bad about it, even if he is. Every chance after is tipped against me, tainted, over this one thing, over unfair expectations. For families. For pregnant bellies and labor stories, and oh, he’s got your dimple , or oh, she’s got your hair color mutation . Ugh. Putting myself out there again would make me feel like a day-old cupcake, sitting on the clearance rack, hoping someone would pity me and take me home. Do I put sans uterus on my dating profile underneath cat lover and board game enthusiast? Do I talk about it on the first date? Wait until the third? Spring my childlessness on him after we have sex or before? How do I bring it up? Would broaching the subject be a red flag for a guy? Would not bringing it up be deceptive? What would it even sound like… Oh, by the way, before you get any long-term ideas, not that you would—no pressure—you should know that this girl doesn’t come with a uterus. Would you want to have that conversation with someone you’re dating? That would turn Grouchy Grady off in a second, wouldn’t it?”
“No, it wouldn’t. Honesty and openness should never be a turn-off. You tell him when you’re ready. Not before. However you choose to say it, when you choose to say it, it’ll be exactly right. Don’t swear off dating out of fear—you have a rule against that. Remember?”
She smiles lightly. “Yes, but it’s not only fear, Grady.” She takes a breath, eyes shifting away from me in a gentle roll. “Funny thing is, I was never sure I wanted kids. When Ashe or Cora talked about it, I thought if it happened, great. If it didn’t, great. I would’ve done it for them, but not for me. I never had much of a childhood and wasn’t keen on reliving it by caring for someone else. I should’ve been upfront about it with Ashe from the start. Even so, my self-worth never centered around future motherhood; it’s a shame that my worth to them did.”
She holds a wagging finger up between us. “For the record, this isn’t me falling apart. This is me having a moment.”
“Understood. Have all the moments you want. I get how the Sullivans made you feel, but fuck them. A man worth your time wouldn’t care.”
“That’s the thing, Grady. I care. I have to, now.” She glances at the swamp, seeming to take an interest in the skittering dragonflies or the sunning turtles. “I’m used to being devalued, and that’s okay. Devalued for working in a grocery store, not going to college, not having any family or even many friends. That’s all okay. But this… this time, I feel devalued. That’s what I hate. I. Am. Less. A future with me means a sacrifice for someone else. How can I ask anyone to give that up for me?”
“The chance to love you forever, to be yours , wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It’d be a gift, an honor, the best pirate treasure. Truly.” I grab her hands across our laps and hold them between us as she chuckles. “Want to know what’s better than having a family?”
Her brow scrunches. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Creating one wherever you go. That’s your gift, Marina. One of many. You are beautiful, intelligent, motivated as fuck, and so warm, like a fire on a cold night. I’ve never met anyone quite like you. Just existing in your periphery makes me a better person. As the surliest asshole in Seagrove, I’d never say any of that unless I meant it. I can’t imagine a luckier man than the one who wins your heart.”
Her lips curl while her eyes stretch wider than usual. “That’s definitely the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Shit,” I breathe out in a smile. “I’m losing my edge.”
Her hands tighten around mine, and she whispers, “I won’t tell anyone.”
She pulls the pen from behind her ear and clicks it into action. She scribbles something on her page and then holds it up to me.
I, Marina Ann Strange, release my fears to the swampy void so that I might open my heart to the one who loves me as I am, not for what he imagines me to be. I let go of limiting expectations and choose limitless possibilities instead. I release those who have held me back for those who push me forward.
She takes the page down as soon as I read it, and her delicate hand curls across it once more. She holds the new addition up, smiling.
I let go of regrets over that day, and I hope Grady does, too. He saved me. Truly.
My eyes find hers as soon as her words come together, and her accepting, even loving expression assures me that she means it—and it does something to me. The man numb to feelings is overcome by them, starting with relief and ending somewhere around humble admiration.
This woman is my family.
I don’t notice the tears welling until her hand drifts to my cheek to catch one with her thumb.
“It’s okay,” she says softly.
I drag her notebook to my lap and place my page atop hers. Once again, I think of that day, catching her in my arms, two feathers caught in the wind, making the pen move fast across the paper.
I, Grady Macmillan Tripp, release my guilt to the swamp, where it’ll find Marina’s fears, wrap them up, and pull them into the mud where they belong. Forever.
She nods, reading my words. “I like that.”
“Me, too.” I start to fold the paper in half, done with the assignment, but she grabs it from my hands.
“Not so fast. You forgot a few things,” she tells me with a smile. “And Macmillan?”
“It’s a family name. My father’s name.”
She giggles. “Aw, that’s sweet. Can I call you Mac-Attack? Macaroni? Mac-nificent?”
“Not if you expect me to answer,” I grumble.
As she writes on my paper, I watch her—the way her high ponytail falls to her shoulder as she leans over, the tiny dimple in her cheek as she smirks at what she’s doing, hell, even the graceful movement of her fingers and the unique smattering of freckles on the outside of her palm hold my attention. I want to be one of her freckles, forever attached.
Before I register what I’m asking, the words come out. “Come to my place for dinner. Tonight.”
She peers up at me, lips spreading further as she considers it. “Oh, to the Fortress of Solitude? How intriguing.”
“I mean, if you want,” I stutter, “if you don’t have like plans… whatever… um, no pressure.”
She smiles. “I’d love to.” She holds up what she’s added to my paper. “It’s working already. See?”
I read her new words:
I, GMT, also let go of self-imposed overworking and taking responsibility for everyone else, especially at my own expense. I promise to be more careful with myself, relax and have fun, and not be afraid to spend more time with Marina.
I realize that is what I want, as if her words grant me permission. Grinning, I initial my approval beside her addition.
But as the others join us and the makeshift ceremony ensues, misgivings take over. Everything about her feels completely beyond me—the man who swore off relationships after fate proved I didn’t deserve to be in one. I don’t deserve her.
And if I get her alone, how the hell will I keep my hands off her?
So, instead of relaxing, I switch into protector mode again, protecting her from me.