Just Say When
Maisie
I laughed in spite of myself. "Oh, stop it. You did not."
In the tent, Griff pulled me closer and said with a low chuckle, "Wanna bet?"
At least three hours had passed since I'd surprised him in the darkened shop. We'd spent much of that time getting reacquainted in all my favorite ways, and now I was feeling nearly giddy as we traded stories in the night.
Yes, I did realize that we had only been apart for a few days, but those days had been way too long, filled with empty nights and dreary afternoons.
Tomorrow night, we would be staying at my place. Together.
Just the thought of it made me smile against his bare chest. Tessa would almost surely agree, especially after I apologized for being so weird the other night.
Things were definitely coming together.
Even so, I couldn't quite believe what Griff had just told me – that growing up in the trailer, he'd had to heat bathwater on the stove.
It sounded impossible. "But that would take like a dozen pots."
"Or just three," he corrected, "if you don't mind a lukewarm bath." He chuckled into my hair. "And besides, three was all we could do."
"Why?"
"Because that's all we had."
"Seriously? You had only three pots?"
"No. Three burners on the stove. The fourth one never worked." But then he paused, and his tone grew thoughtful. "But come to think of it, you're right."
"About what?"
"The pots. I don't remember having a fourth. And to call them pots was a stretch."
"How so?"
"One of them – this little sauce pan – it was good for maybe a can of soup, and I don't mean for two."
"But what about your hot water heater? Are you saying you didn't have one at all?"
"Sure we did. Until it broke." With a hint of amusement, he asked, "Do you know how much those things cost?"
I did, actually. My own hot water heater was probably on its last legs. I'd priced a new one just after Christmas. The cost hadn't been a giant fortune, but it had been big enough to make me pause.
And don't get me started on the installation.
I asked, "So how long did that go on?"
"Us heating water by stove? Not that long. Maybe a year – 'til I worked out a trade."
I was beyond curious. "What kind of trade?"
"There was this kid I went to school with – his dad was a plumber. He found us a used tank – one this rich family was tossing."
"But wait…why would they? Throw it out, I mean?"
"I'll tell you why." His tone grew mocking. "It was too small. Only forty gallons."
I paused at the number. My own tank was thirty gallons. And as long as nobody showered back-to-back, it had done its job mostly fine…well, until it had started acting up this past winter. I trailed a hand across Griff's bare shoulder and said with a little laugh, "But forty's not even small."
"Yeah, but they wanted seventy-five, so they tossed the old one and told the plumber to trash it."
"But he didn't?"
"Nah. He gave it to us instead – installed it, too." A warm smile crept into his voice. "Mom was so happy, you'd think he'd given her a car."
At the warmth in his voice, I couldn't help but smile, too. "But you said it was a trade. What did he get?"
"Free labor."
"What kind of labor?"
"They had like five bikes in the garage. The guy wanted me to wash them – a decent deal since I was twelve."
Twelve seemed awful young to me. Then again, I'd started working part-time at the bike shop at only thirteen, so in a way, it made the two of us much more alike than different.
And hey, I'd done my share of bike-washing, too.
Of course, I'd had two parents and plenty of hot water, which put me on Easy Street compared to Griff.
I was impressed.
No. More than impressed.
But how could I not be? "So that's how you got your start with bikes?"
"You could say that. But even I knew that the deal sucked – for him, I mean."
Griff was selling himself short, and I didn't bother hiding it. "Oh, come on. The deal couldn't have been that bad…not if he got the water tank for free."
"Yeah, but his labor wasn't, at least not normally." Griff gave a low chuckle. "Trust me, I saw their house. The guy didn't work for cheap."
Now this I believed. The estimate for my own hot water heater was still fresh in my mind. "I bet he was happy to do it. He sounds like a really nice guy."
"Yeah, he was, actually." Griff was silent for a long moment before adding, "His kid was lucky to have him."
I was afraid to ask, but since Griff had brought it up, maybe he wanted to talk about it. Softly, I asked, "What about your dad?"
Griff's voice cooled several degrees. "What about him?"
"Well…you've mentioned your mom, but not your dad, so I was just wondering…growing up…was he a big part of your life?"
He scoffed in the darkness. "More like no part."
Ouch. "So you weren't close?"
"Nah." He gave me a little squeeze that nearly broke my heart. "The guy was an ass."
And now, I didn't know what to say.
Before I could think of something, Griff continued on his own. "That's what Mom always said. But to be fair, she only met him the one time."
"Oh." At the sound of my own voice, I couldn't help but wince. Was that really the best I could do? I burrowed deeper against him and tried again. "That must've really sucked. I'm so sorry."
"Eh, don't be," he said. "Mom was wild back in the day." The smile returned to his voice. "At least the way everyone talks. But all I remember is her working two jobs to keep a roof over our head – even if it was a tin can. And you know what?"
"What?"
"She was always there, no matter what."
I thought of my own mom. She'd been there, too…I guess…just not like that. And she couldn't wait to leave – first my dad and then me in a roundabout way when she'd moved half way across the country, leaving me behind.
But to be fair, it's not like I had wanted to go.
I mean, the island was home, right?
Still, it would've been nice to be asked.
Griff's voice was quiet in the darkness. "Hey…"
My voice was quiet, too. "Hey what?"
"You should meet her sometime."
Now, I really smiled. "You mean your mom?"
"Yeah."
At something in his voice, my heart went warm and gooey. "I'd love that." Then softly, I added, "Just say when."