Chapter 12
Twelve
Grady
“Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald
False alarm.
Possibly the two best words in the whole fucking English language.
“It looked like there was possibly a little salt on the first image,” my mother says.
They arrived earlier today. Dad finally felt safe to leave the city since Mom’s new results came back yesterday. Clear.
Thank the old gods and the new. Or whatever it is that has control of these things.
“Well, I’m glad they got you back in quickly and took a better look,” I say, pouring her a cup of tea. Peppermint. Always peppermint. “You’re feeling okay?”
“I feel great,” she says. “Honestly, back to my old self. Ready to help my favorite person get her garden growing.”
“She couldn’t be more excited. It’s almost all she talks about.”
“Almost?”
“She talks about this kid, Bryant, a lot.”
“Roll your eyes all you want, dear,” she says with a laugh. “But you had crushes at her age, too.”
“I call bullshit.”
“You would, but it’s true. In fact, I think your first one was about that age. Juliet, of all people.”
“Gross,” I say, feigning a gag.
“It didn’t last long. None of them did, if I recall correctly.” She does. I didn’t have girlfriends. Nobody ever kept my hyperactive attention until I left Stowaway. “Your dad said Juliet was home.”
“She is,” I confirm. “She’s out and about today. She and Lou are shopping or something, I think.”
“Lou? Is that the Lulu Paige has been chatty about?”
“Yeah, she’s a friend of Jules’s. Was in a tough spot and has been staying next door until she’s back on her feet,” I say. Mom raises a single brow. “What?”
“Grady, I know you as well as I know myself. You can’t hide anything from me, no matter how hard you try.” She reaches over to pat my hand. “Is she special?”
“Don’t know her well enough,” I say, shrugging a shoulder.
“But you want to.” She’s not asking, she’s telling.
“It’s not like that.”
“Why not?”
“She’s too much for a small town.” I don’t know what else to say. She’s a famous model who’s only here to heal before she gets back to her real life. Lou will leave and become Louisa again. Or, at least, something more like Louisa.
“I’ve heard that before,” she says. “It was said of Irma, who ended up loving it here so much, only death could pull her away.”
“I miss her,” I say, because I do. Every day. She was like a second mother to me but also a friend. Someone I always knew I could get the truth from.
“Me too. As much as I love coming out here and spending time with you and Paige, it’s hard. I still expect my best friend to be waiting on her back patio with a cup of coffee every morning.”
Irma was that special type of person my mother talks about.
Full of life, perpetually optimistic, even if she had little reason to be.
She was a fighter, a problem solver, a take charge fixer.
The Jackson women don’t let much get in between them and their goal.
For Irma, it was building a life here; for her daughter, it was finding her next high; for Juliet, it was getting the fuck out of this small town.
I wonder what Lou’s goal is. Will she get her life back?
I can easily picture her in some big New York City apartment rather than here in a house older than her by at least twice.
I’ve never been to New York. Or anywhere, really.
Brenda and I honeymooned with a road trip along the West Coast. We took a trip to Yellowstone, once, when I was young, and that’s as far east as I’ve ever been.
My limited view never bothered me until we had Paige. She deserves the world and I want more for her than I ever had. A better life, better education, more opportunities, less struggle.
I wish I’d been able to give her an even happier home than I had. Which would have been hard, because my parents are fucking great. Instead, I gave her Brenda and me fighting nonstop for the first six years of her life.
Dad and Paige come in from the backyard, my daughter wearing a huge grin. “Papa says he’ll build me shelves in the greenhouse. And a bench so I have a place to sit and watch the grass grow,” she says. “’Cept I’m not growing grass in there.”
“I think that’s what they call a figure of speech,” I tell her. “Shower up, kiddo. Dinner will be ready by the time you’re done.”
“And then, Jules and Lulu should be home with my surprise!” She runs down the hall, talking to herself and making guesses of what the surprise could be.
“Diablos Rex,” I tell my parents when she’s out of earshot. There’s a semi-famous doughnut shop in the city—Paige’s favorite.
“Juliet didn’t drive all the way to Portland just for a damn doughnut, did she? We could have stopped on the way and grabbed some,” Dad says.
“No, babe,” Mom says. “She’s shopping with her friend.”
“What friend?”
“The one staying at Irma’s house,” she volleys back.
“Someone is staying at Irma’s? With Juliet?”
“Yes, a woman,” my mother says. “That your son likes quite a lot.”
“You’re dating this woman and I’ve never even heard about her?”
My head stops bouncing between the two.
“You have heard about her, old man. Juliet’s friend, Lou,” I remind him.
“I thought that was a man.”
“Nope. A woman,” my mom says. “I bet she’s pretty.”
“If Grady’s dating her, she would be,” he says.
“We’re not dating. We’re barely even friends.”
“He wants to be, though.”
“Friends or dating?” he asks her.
“Well, both, obviously,” she tells him.
“Right. You shouldn’t date anyone you wouldn’t be friends with,” he tells me.
“Learned that already, but thanks, Dad,” I say. “Again, we aren’t dating.”
“But you’d like to be,” Mom says.
“It’s too complicated for that.”
“What’s so complicated about it? You ask her out on a date,” my dad says. “She says yes, then, you’re dating. Simple.”
“Oh, yeah? It’s that easy?”
“Of course not,” my mom says at the same time as my dad says it is.
They’ve been here thirty minutes and I’m already exhausted. Not that I’d have it any other way. The banter between them has always been a favorite part of my life. Being an only child, the three of us were close. I found the way they speak with each other entertaining. I still do.
It’s been like this my whole life. I used to wonder if it was this sort of word volley that made them fall in love. Or was it something else? First sight. A friendship that slowly tindered into love. I never asked. For the life of me, I don’t know why.
“How did the two of you fall in love?”
They wear matching looks of surprise at my question.
I suspect most people would learn this sort of thing from family chatter at big holiday dinners or family reunions where everyone sits around and reminisces.
Neither of my parents had large families, though.
All my grandparents passed by the time I was in high school.
My dad had an older brother who was in the Army and was killed fighting while deployed.
They don’t talk about it much. My mother, like me, like Juliet, was an only child.
There was never anyone for them to reminisce with.
“That’s an embarrassing story,” my mom says.
“Not really,” my dad says.
“Why?”
“I was dating his best friend, Brian.”
“I was dating her roommate, Jennifer.”
“Shut up, really?”
“They weren’t meant to be,” Mom says.
“Obviously,” Dad agrees.
“We finished each other’s sentences. They both hated that.”
“It was pretty evident your mom and I were a better match.”
“And look at you now,” I say.
“Thirty-six years and counting,” Mom says with a smile, as full of relief as it is joyful. Last year, she was worried they wouldn’t get past thirty-five. Terrified, really. Though she put on a strong front.
“Four years until Spain,” Dad says.
It’s her dream…they’ve been saving up. The cancer treatments set them back some.
“I can hardly wait,” she says.
This is what I wanted. A long-term love full of dreams and plans.
A partner that shared them. I chose poorly and now, my plans for the future only last until Paige has her own plans with her own partner.
More and more, it looks like I’ll end up Stowaway’s next generation of Sam.
The old man who’s been here forever, alone, friendly, if not on the grumpy side.
It wouldn’t be such a bad life.
It could be better.
With her. The image is easy enough to conjure.
Lou and I sitting in those same chairs out back, hand in hand in front of the waves.
That’s not reality, though. Reality is her inside the glossy pages, looking the exact opposite of the woman who has been wearing the hand-me-down clothes of my deceased neighbor.
Lou was born to be in elaborate costumes under flashing lights. Not tied to a town that’s barely grown in the three decades I’ve been witness to it. Pursuing her would only be tying her down. Different than the way her ex did, but the same, in a sense.
“So, why aren’t you dating her?”
“Dad,” I groan.
“What? It’s just a question.”
“She’s kind of famous. A model,” I say. “When she’s up to it, I’m sure she’ll return to that.”
“See? I knew she was pretty,” Mom says.
“Well, what does that matter? You can date her while she’s here. Live a little.”
“I did that once,” I say, meaning, when I moved to Portland with ridiculous dreams. “Didn’t turn out as planned.”
“Nobody says you have to have a plan,” Dad says. “Besides, whether you planned it or not, you got Piglet out of it. I’d say that’s worth it.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“Your father is right. You’re too serious and responsible, these days. You know what they say. All work and no play.”
“Makes Grady a responsible man?”
“I’m not going to win this, am I?”
“Probably not, Mom. I love you for looking out for me, though.”
“I love you, too, Grady. I only wish—” She pauses, closing her eyes for a minute. “I only wish you’d be open to a second chance at love.”
An hour later, a vehicle approaches. When Lou and Juliet left earlier, it was in Lou’s beater, but that’s not the noise I hear coming down the road.
Her car rattles like it’s about to fall apart.
When I step out the front door, I see the two women pulling into the Jackson house driveway in a shiny new Rivian truck.
Expensive trucks are common enough around here. Electric ones are not.
I walk over as Juliet gets out of the passenger side.
“Good timing, big guy,” she says. “We could use some help hauling in all these bags.”
“You only love me for my muscles.”
“It’s definitely not your personality,” she teases as I pass behind the bright blue truck to the driver’s side. Lou opens the door, her face beaming with childlike delight.
“This is an awful nice ride, Miss Lou,” I say.
“I got my money back this morning and felt like having some retail therapy,” she says. “It’s a bit much, huh?”
“Scoot over, let me see.” Though she looks surprised, she shimmies across the seat awkwardly with long legs, allowing me access to jump in. Over my shoulder, I see the back seat full of shopping bags. “You take therapy seriously, I see.”
“Easier than trying to get all my stuff from…”
“I agree,” I say before she can finish. “You shouldn’t see him ever again.”
She blinks at me a few times. A little starry eyed.
I don’t hate it. Not fucking at all.
“What do you think of her?” She speaks after a few beats. “It’s not the most practical truck. But I wanted the option to haul things, while also being efficient for trips to and from the airport.”
“How are you going to charge it?” I ask, ignoring the quickening of my heartrate.
“The dealership has a contractor coming out tomorrow to install one.”
“Here at Irma’s?”
Thump, thump, thump. It pounds so strongly I’d be shocked if she couldn’t see it under my tee.
She nods.
“You sticking around, Lou?”
Another nod.
“I like how I feel here,” she says.
“How’s that?”
“Rooted. Grounded. Like I’m wrapped in a blanket,” she says. “Does that sound dumb?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jules says, reaching in the back seat to grab a few more bags. “Tell her, Grady. I don’t think she believes me.”
Lou smiles, shaking her head a little. Those long, dark locks of hers sway across her cheeks.
“It doesn’t sound dumb,” I say, slowly reaching up to wind a strand around my finger. It sounds like you found home, is what I intend to say. But my parents’ words replay in my head. Live a little. “Will you go somewhere with me?”
“Now?”
“No,” I say. “Tomorrow night.”
“Just the two of us?”
“If you’re comfortable with that,” I say. “If you’re not, that’s okay. I understand.”
“I am,” she says. “I just wanted clarity.”
“I’m asking you on a date, Lou.”
“Get it, girl,” Juliet says to her, back again for another load. “Show her some fun or I’ll fucking kill you, Grady.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, fuck off with that ma’am shit,” she says, walking away.
“I’d like a little fun,” Lou says, her smile as bright as the sun.
“I promise to deliver,” I tell her, slowly leaning forward and kissing the tip of her nose. “Let’s get this stuff inside before Juliet loses her shit on us.”