Chapter 39
Gracie
Two Weeks Later
Something looks different when I pull in the driveway, but I can’t put my finger on it right away. It’s probably nothing. My thoughts have been unfocused in the weeks since Hunter and I broke up, so I’ve been missing a lot of details.
At work, I’m generally able to fix my mistakes because the math insists on it. Otherwise, I’d be more worried about turning in bad analytics reports. But my team seems to have their wits about them, and right now, that’s saving my bacon.
Exiting my car, I give the front of the house a once-over. What’s different?
Unable to land on anything other than maybe a few plants that are in bloom now, I’m baffled.
My laptop bag hangs from my shoulder, and my purse, heavy with uneaten granola bars and computer glasses, hangs from the other shoulder. At least, I’m balanced. I unlock the door and push it open with the toe of my low-heeled bootie.
The moment I’m inside, Hunter’s dog is on me, sniffing me and licking my hand. Kyler comes up behind him with a treat. “Come on, good boy. Let her at least get in the door.”
Seeing Bogie pulls at my heart, unleashing a mixture of emotions. The furry bear-dog is so full of unconditional love that I can’t help but feel my spirits rise around him, but then I think about Hunter chasing Bogie around outside and the couple I almost believed us to be, and I get sad.
“Sorry, sis. I didn’t expect you to be here.” He checks the time. “Why are you here? Did you get fired or something?”
It’s so like my brother to ask that question without sympathy because he knows it’s probably not true. “I left early.”
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” He squints his eyes in mock concern and taps at my cheek as though testing to see if I’m a real human. “Funny. You look like my sister, but you’re surely an alien pod person because she doesn’t leave early. If you must eat me, please spare the dog.”
I roll my eyes. “If only you were actually funny, you might have a girlfriend.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.”
He bends to pet Bogie, whose ears perk when Kyler talks directly to him in a serious voice. “Okay, buddy. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll hold her down and you lick her within an inch of her sanity, and then maybe she’ll tell us who sent her to take over the earth.”
Shaking my head, I walk into the kitchen. I guess that’s what looked different—the sunlight bouncing off the glass in front of the house, because Kyler is right—it’s the middle of the day. I’m never here, home from work, in the middle of the day.
In the fridge, I find Kyler’s glass container of cut-up carrots and celery and pair it with my jar of Skippy on the counter.
Taking a big swipe of creamy peanut butter with a celery stick, I plop myself onto one of the barstools and munch my snack.
If Kyler wants to give me a hard time about being home early, I’m not going to listen to it on an empty stomach.
My brother looks from me to the dog, who has managed to find his leash and now holds it in his mouth. “Easy, buddy. I think Gracie needs our attention for a sec.”
Kyler takes a couple of sticks of celery and starts to take a bite, but then he thinks better of it and swipes it through the peanut butter. Taking a seat next to me, he swivels my stool to face him. “What’s going on? Real talk.”
I shrug and focus on breathing. And another bite of peanut butter on celery.
Kyler hops off the chair as quickly as he landed there and hooks the leash to Bogie’s collar. “Come on, let’s go.”
Bogie sits, tail wagging. Both of them stare at me expectantly until I give in. “So go.”
“I was talking to you. Let’s go.”
I’m too mentally drained to argue or ask questions, so I follow the two of them out the door and into Kyler’s truck, where he lets Bogie ride shotgun. “I promised him,” he explains.
Folding myself into the back seat, I wait while Kyler runs back into the house, returning a moment later with a pile of sweats and towels. He drops them on the seat next to me, hops in the driver’s seat, and speeds down the hill.
It seems pointless to ask where we’re going because it’s not like Kyler is going to change his plans if I object.
Twenty minutes later, we’ve navigated the hills in Griffith Park and stopped at the observatory, which is perched atop the tallest peak in the area.
Kyler lets Bogie out and sets him free to run off the leash while we walk behind the whirling dervish of a dog, who looks like he’s been caged up for a month.
“Why do you have him?” It’s the question I’ve been trying to articulate since Bogie ambled out and started licking my hand, but the thought had a hard time fighting through the emotional fog.
“Hunter’s out of town.”
I wait for him to elaborate, reminding myself of the Devils schedule, which doesn’t have any away games before the season opener. “Vacation?” I ask, feigning mild disinterest.
“Mental health day.” He turns to face me, and the weight of his stare tells me he wants to talk about Hunter, even if I don’t.
“Oh. Good for him. We all need those.” The words sound hollow. I know I’m probably the source of at least some of his mental pain.
“Right.” Kyler stares off at the view, which is tremendous.
Today is one of those clear days in LA right after yesterday’s wind blew every trace of smog and haze into the ether.
The tall buildings and houses down below look like they’ve been carved in sharp detail out of glass and stone against the clean blue backdrop of sky.
It takes me back to the afternoon of paddleboarding with Hunter, when he said that anything bothersome was behind him when he stood at the ocean. I feel like that now. Like nothing can touch me up here. Nothing except the sadness swirling inside me because I take that everywhere I go these days.
I wait for Kyler to tell me more, but he says nothing. I hear his deep inhale, and it prompts me to do the same. All the while, Bogie races around in circles on the grass, occasionally coming back to us as if to check in before sprinting off again. His capacity to entertain himself amazes me.
“So…why’d you make me come here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I look at Bogie, who is pure joy in a fluffy golden body. “Because Bogie needed exercise?”
He makes a jarring buzzer sound. “Wrong.”
I blink longer than necessary. Or maybe it is necessary to stem the sudden prick of tears and swallow back emotions I didn’t plan on feeling.
“Because I need a mental health day.” I barely get the words out before my voice cracks.
“Bingo.”
He doesn’t ask what happened between Hunter and me.
The two of them are lifelong friends, and I imagine Hunter told him his version.
No place for me in the middle of that. It’s enough that he brought me up here to look at this view and maybe start to pull myself back together.
We stare over the city, each in our own space.
“Do you need one too?” I ask. “Not saying you need to spill your guts if you don’t want to, but if you were looking for an opening…”
My brother smiles. “I’m good. I have what I need, and I’m happy you’re living in my city for once. You think you’ll stay?”
“I’ll see this job through. I’m not going to let my dating life get in the way, if that’s what you’re asking. Eyes on the prize, right? I know how to stay focused.”
“D’you…think this could be home?”
The question startles me, and my mouth pops open. Kyler waits, but it takes me a minute to sort my thoughts.
“Hunter asked me the same thing once.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“I said that, yeah, maybe it could. But that was—”
Kyler holds up a hand. “Just leave it there. I’d like it if this was home for you.”
Bogie comes back and circles our legs, panting and making little jumps in the air.
Ky takes out a water bowl from his backpack and fills it with water.
The dog slurps with such gusto that I can’t help but laugh.
When he’s finished and brings his head up, a trail of water pours from the sides of his mouth.
Then he sees a white dog with a curled tail and takes off again at a run.
Kyler stands in front of me, so I have no choice but to look at him. “You never talk to me about stuff—your job, relationships, whatever’s happening in your life—and you should. I’m your biggest fan.”
I take in this image of my brother, his rumpled hair blowing in the light breeze, his fierce blue eyes riveted on me.
He’s twenty-eight. He’s traveled the world and runs an impressive business.
He’s lived life. For maybe the first time, I see him as an adult who knows more than I give him credit for, and I feel like a jerk.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He blows out a laugh. “I’m not asking you to be sorry.
I’m asking you to be a little less absolute in your thinking.
Less black and white. Come to LA for the job, leave LA when you have what you need to get the other job…
Fall for the guy, give up on the guy when he gets in his own way…
Don’t tell me about any of it, and make me read the tea leaves.
Maybe something to be said for the gray.
While we’re not talking about our hair, anyway. ”
My response starts as something between a gasp and a laugh, but the sound of it is more like a sob, which leads me to a full-on crying outburst I didn’t see coming.
I feel the urge to walk. Standing here with my brother feels too heavy, so I start following where Bogie is running.
That leads me in a zigzagging line, which frustrates me, and by the time I give up, I’m standing in front of a bust of James Dean on a concrete pillar.
It seems like as good a place as any to stop and let myself have the cry I’ve been holding in since Hunter walked away.
My brother comes over gingerly because this is still a new kind of moment for us. He reaches over and gives me that awkward sibling hug from the side, but I turn into him and dampen his shirt as the tears stream forth. He leaves his arm in place and lightly pats my hair while I lose my shit.
Seeming to sense he’s needed, Bogie ambles over and nuzzles the backs of my legs.
It forces enough levity for me to stop sobbing.
The tears still dribble from my eyes, but I wipe them away and dare a look at Kyler.
I expect him to be freaked out. I’m his older sister, after all.
I’ve always kept it together in front of him.
But he actually looks relieved.
“Finally,” he says kindly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You let me in. Finally. Thank you.”
This makes the tears roll again, but this time my feelings are laced with appreciation for the boy who became a man when I wasn’t watching and now wants me to lean on him. So I try.
We amble over to a bench and sit with the view sprawled out in front of us. “There’s no escaping the majesty of this,” I say.
“Kind of the point. A little perspective.”
I nod. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to share things with you. I…don’t really know how. I’m used to solving problems on my own.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” His wry tone is answer enough.
“Did Hunter tell you where we left things?”
He stretches his arms over the back of the bench in that way only guys can do. His knees splay open, and he looks as at home here as Bogie. It’s a gift to be able to find that Zen space anywhere, and I wish I had more of it.
Slouching down a couple of inches, I try to get more comfortable, but I end up failing. “He’s not ready for a relationship,” I say. “I feel like I’ve come a long way in the time since we met. I let my guard down. I started to trust him to say he loved me and mean it. But he still walked away.”
“That’s on him.”
I sit up and turn toward Kyler, so he sees my face. “I know. A hundred percent, I know that. I won’t let myself doubt that trusting him was the wrong idea. It’s not my fault that he doesn’t know what he wants.”
“He does know. He just won’t let himself have it.”
“What does he want?” My voice is quiet because I almost can’t ask. Maybe Kyler doesn’t hear me.
“He wants you.” Kyler nods to himself. “But…”
He doesn’t have to finish. I know what the problem is. He’s in his own way.
“Exactly.”