Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
It’s a Saturday, and I would usually be working, but after yesterday with Noah, I feel the need for some distance. When I managed to slip from his arms, he was deep asleep. I wanted to hate him, but seeing the tension between his eyebrows even when he was asleep . . . I couldn’t.
I’m so confused, caught between my feelings for someone I can never have and blossoming feelings for someone new, so I go to the only place I know will make me feel better—home.
I pull my car up outside of the blue, two-story house.
The windows are open, and the wraparound porch reminds me of hours I spent there, rewatching Noah’s races when my grandma was asleep.
Nothing has changed. The flowers are still perfectly pruned, the grass is trimmed to perfection, and the house shines brightly in the sun . . . apart from the flag.
That’s new.
I step out of my car and pull off my glasses, tucking them into my neckline as the front door opens and my grandma steps out.
Her familiar, wide smile brightens her face.
She still looks the same to me as she always did, but I notice she’s more hunched and has new wrinkles, and the reminder of time passing kills me as I hurry up the path and into her arms. Her floral perfume comforts me like nothing else.
Her makeup is glittery today and matches how cute she looks in her long, floral skirt and matching top.
She has never acted her age, and I hope I look as good as her when I’m old.
“You always know,” I tease.
“The car door is a sound that’s as familiar as my own heartbeat. It means my son is home.” She cups my cheeks as she pulls away. “You look tired and skinny. Come on, let’s eat.”
I laugh as I loop my arm through hers. “You know the way to my heart. What’s with the flag?
” I nod at the huge flag hanging off the porch.
It’s a rainbow one and so large, I could see it from space.
My grandma has always known about my sexuality.
Hell, she marches with me during Pride week.
When I first told her, I was terrified, but she simply looked into my eyes and told me she always knew and that the tenth time I made her watch The Mummy in one week was what had clued her into it.
That’s who she is, someone willing to do anything to make me happy.
She took me in after my parents died without a single word of protest. She put her retirement on hold, took in an angry child, and gave him the world, and I will always be thankful for everything she did for me.
“My neighbors were being twat waffles about this nice new lesbian couple who moved in two doors down, so I’m making my side clear.
” She turns, and my sweet little granny cups her mouth.
“You hear that, Dennis, you old fuck? I’m with the lesbians.
They have the right idea. Go back to your wrinkly balls and weird obsession with your flowers and leave them alone! ”
I gawk as my grandma shouts, looking next door to see Dennis in a droopy hat with a flower in his hand, staring back at us. “Stop it, Joy!” Dennis’s wife yells from inside the house. “This is a cultured neighborhood—”
“Fuck you, Sharon, and your shitty peach cobbler!”
I laugh so hard it hurts as I help her inside before the police are called.
I can’t help smiling as she putters around the kitchen, cooking as she grumbles about prejudiced idiots.
I lean against the wall and watch her, knowing how lucky I got.
Sighing, I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my head on her shoulder.
“What’s this?” she grumbles.
“Nothing, I just love you. I’m so lucky to have you,” I murmur.
She pats my hands. “Don’t you forget it, boy.”
“Like you would let me,” I tease as the radio changes.
I take her hand and pull her into my arms, dancing with her around the kitchen.
It’s something my father and mother did every morning, dancing away the blues, and I make sure to dance with her as often as I can, knowing they got it from her and my grandpa.
She smiles and lets me twirl and sway her.
“You made friends with the new couple?” I ask as we dance.
“Lovely girls. One of them is going to teach me how to use the computer so I can watch you.” She nods.
“They are so in love, it’s beautiful. You should find someone and settle down like them.
Maybe buy Dennis, the old fuck, out.” I smile, and when the song ends, she returns to cooking like she usually does when I turn up.
She always claims I’m too skinny then feeds me until I burst. Nothing tastes like her cooking.
We eat and talk for hours before I leave her to watch her shows, which are basically reruns of SVU, then I head upstairs, lying on my bed and staring up at my ceiling.
There is a poster of Noah there, looking stern but young.
It was one of his photos from the first time he competed.
I loved him even back then. Maybe that’s weird, but it was a different kind of love, like idol worship, which changed to real love when I met him and got to know him.
He was a fantasy back when I stayed in this room, but now he’s real yet still untouchable.
Sitting up with a sigh, I look at the framed photo of my parents beside my bed, and I pick it up. “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. Grandma is doing okay, starting shit as usual. I wish you were here to see it.” My lips tilt down. “I wish you were here for a lot of reasons.”
My door opens, and I look up to see my grandma. She notices what I’m holding and sits next to me, covering my hand. “They would be so proud of you. You know that, right?”
I blink rapidly and look at her. “You think?”
“Of course. You were always their greatest accomplishment. They loved you more than anything. I still remember the moment your mother told me she was pregnant. She was so happy. I’d never seen my son so excited, and the moment he met you and held you in his arms .
. . God, I have never seen so much love.
I loved my son, but he was a prick when he wanted to be.
” I laugh. “But as soon as you came along, his world changed. He changed it for you. He wanted to be better, be someone you would be proud to call Dad. I wish they could see you and how you’ve grown into the amazing, brilliant man you are. ”
“Do you think they would accept me?” I ask. It’s something I’ve always wondered.
“Love is love. Don’t ever question that. If you bring home a son-in-law or daughter-in-law, they wouldn’t have cared as long as you were happy. Love should not come with limits or restrictions, and they knew that.”
Nodding, I carefully put the picture down and rest my head on her shoulder, my eyes still burning.
“What’s with this trip down memory lane? And you came back without warning, not that I mind, but what’s wrong? Tell me. I’m old, but I can kill someone for you if I need to. What are they going to do, lock me up for five years?” she scoffs.
I smile before it fades. “Love hurts,” I admit. “First my parents and now . . .” I consider telling her, since if there was ever someone in my corner, it’s her. “Him, I love him, and I lost him.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Did he love you?”
“I—no, I don’t think he does.”
“Then fuck him. He doesn’t deserve you.” She pats my thigh.
“Don’t waste your heart on someone who doesn’t deserve it.
There are so many people out there that would be lucky to be loved by you.
You are young, Mackie, so very young. There will be others, but let it hurt and cry if you need to.
If you want, I will cut off his balls and bury them in Dennis’s garden.
” I laugh again, and she smiles as I lift my head, and she brushes my tears away.
“Don’t waste these on people who don’t deserve them.
Do you want to know the best way to get over someone? ”
“How?” I ask.
“Get under someone else . . . or over, I’m not sure of your position.” She nods, and my mouth drops open.
“Grandma!”
“What?” She blinks innocently. “I loved your grandfather, but I still fucked around after he died. It’s perfectly natural. I’ve been learning about tops and bottoms—” I cover her mouth, and she smiles as I laugh, which is what she wanted.
“Please stop.” When she tugs my hand away, she interlaces our fingers.
“I love you. You are the very best part of my life, and I want you to be happy, so find someone who deserves that big heart of yours and never let them go. Don’t waste one more second letting it ache for someone who never owned it in the first place.”
“What if I don’t know if I want to move on from him?” I ask. I’ve been in love with Noah in some form or another since I was a teenager. Letting that go feels like losing part of me.
“Then fight for it.” She squeezes my hand. “My grandson loses to no one.”
“Maybe to a pretty female,” I grumble.
“Nah,” she scoffs. “You’re prettier than any woman. Fight her.” I smile again, and she kisses my cheek. “Whatever you decide, I just want you to be happy.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“Good, then let’s go watch Stabler. What a man . . .” She sighs. “And next time, bring a hottie home, even in a body bag so I can help you hide it.”
Smiling, I let her lead me downstairs, my heart feeling lighter.
Her words stick with me.
Do I fight for Noah or walk away?