Chapter 7
GRAYSON
AGE SIXTEEN
“You’ll be okay for a few days, won’t you?”
I glanced up from the counter where I was shoveling cereal into my mouth. My dad stood in the doorway, dressed in a smart suit, his hand resting on the handle of a small black suitcase.
My eyes widened as I dropped my spoon back into the bowl with a clatter. “Where are you going?” I’d only arrived in the US a month ago, and my dad was already leaving me to my own devices? Without any notice?
He grimaced. “Sorry, Gray. We’re in the middle of a time-sensitive deal, and the boss wants my negotiation skills. I’ve got to fly to Chicago in—” He glanced at his watch. “—two hours. I’ll be back on Thursday.”
Okay. Not a few days, then. Try six days.
“Evie will be in to clean, the meal delivery service is scheduled, and I’ve got a surprise for you.
” Releasing his suitcase, he dug around in the pockets of his suit trousers—no, pants…
Gotta remember you’re not in England anymore, Grayson—and stepped over to me, dropping something to the counter in front of my bowl.
I stared down at the shiny key resting on the marble surface, my eyes widening. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. Could it?
My gaze flicked back up to my dad’s. He was grinning at me.
“You’ve been practicing in my car for long enough.
I thought you should have your own to learn in.
When I’m not here, Mr. Johnson from next door has offered to be your adult supervisor if you want to take your new wheels out for a spin.
You know, he’s retired, and I think he’d like something to do now his grandson is at college out of state. ”
He bought me a car? “You really got me a car?”
“You deserve it. I’m sure you don’t want to be relying on your old man to take you places.”
“I— Thank you. That’s just…yeah. I don’t know what to say. Thanks.”
Squeezing my shoulder, he smiled at me. “Think of it as a belated sixteenth birthday present.”
There was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t go away. I knew money didn’t buy happiness and all that shit, and yeah, it didn’t make up for him leaving me, but he’d bought me a car. My own car. I swallowed. “Dad. You got me a PlayStation for my birthday.”
“A ‘welcome to the USA’ gift, then. And a way to make an old man happy.”
An old man…right. Mr. Johnson. “You want me to be his substitute grandson or something?”
My dad rolled his eyes. “Hardly. I might’ve told him you’d mow his lawn in return for him taking you out. Sweep the leaves away from his driveway. That kind of thing.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
He nodded, ruffling my hair. I swiped his hand away, making him laugh, although his smile dropped quickly.
“Seriously. I wanted to do this for you. I’m your dad, and I have the money, so why not?
And I want to make it clear that I’m not expecting Mr. Johnson to take over my duties as a parent or anything like that.
I don’t want to leave you alone while I go away for work, but I trust you.
You’re sensible, and I know you can handle your own shit. ”
Biting down on my lip, I gave a jerky nod in reply, and he sighed.
“Ever since the divorce… I know the past four years haven’t been easy for any of us, especially with me being on a different continent to you and your mother, but you’ve dealt with it admirably.
You’re growing into a strong, independent man—one I can be proud of.
You’re more than capable of handling some time on your own. ”
“Yeah.” I twisted my fingers together. It wasn’t like he was wrong, but the news that he was leaving me alone had blindsided me in a way.
It seemed so soon after I’d moved here. Everything was so different from England, and school hadn’t even started, so the only people I knew here were my dad, our cleaner Evie, and a couple of the neighbors.
Stop fucking whining, Grayson. You can deal with Dad being away.
You’re sixteen. You’re not a little kid anymore.
You chose to move to the States, knowing he’d be just as busy with work and his own life as he always was in England, even when he was married to Mum.
You knew what you were getting yourself into.
I cleared my throat and tried again, meeting my dad’s concerned gaze. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. No problem. I can handle it.”
His concern instantly melted away, and he smiled. “I know you will.” Quickly glancing at his watch, he jerked his thumb toward the door that led to the garage. “Want to check out your new ride before I leave?”
I swiped the key from the counter and hopped off my stool. “Yeah. Show me.”
Parked in my dad’s driveway after an hour of driving around the suburbs, I exited the SUV, slamming the driver’s side door closed behind me. Rounding the car to the passenger side, I opened the door for Mr. Johnson.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re a natural.” He beamed at me as he slowly climbed out, allowing me to support him with a hand on his arm. When I’d closed the passenger door behind him and locked the car, I walked him across to his own driveway.
“Thanks again for taking me out. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” He paused in front of his garage. “If you’re not too busy to help an old man out, I have a couple of boxes of Ryan’s that he asked me to get rid of.”
I’d never met Ryan, Mr. Johnson’s grandson, but Mr. Johnson talked about him so much that I almost felt as if I knew him. He’d just finished his first year of an engineering degree at Northeastern University, and he played ice hockey for their college team, the Northeastern Huskies.
“Yeah, I can help with that. For now, I can put them in the boot—uh, the trunk of my car—and I’ll get rid of them for you.”
“Thank you, Grayson.” He fished out the garage remote and pressed the button.
We both watched as the door rolled up, revealing a mostly bare interior with several cardboard boxes stacked against the wall.
Some had “keep” written on them in black marker pen, and the others were blank.
Following my gaze, Mr. Johnson nodded. “Those are the boxes. Anything unlabeled can go. If anything catches your eye, help yourself.”
I crouched down in front of the nearest box, lifting the flap. Something inside glinted, immediately catching my eye, and I carefully drew it out.
Footsteps sounded as Mr. Johnson drew closer to me, peering down at the item in my hands.
“Ah. One of Ryan’s old skates. Still in good condition,” he mused. “Do you like playing hockey, Grayson?”
“Uh. I’ve never tried.” I turned the bright blue skate over in my hands. Would it… It looked like it might be my size.
Mr. Johnson gasped. “Never tried?”
Shaking my head, I glanced up at him. “No. I’ve been ice skating before, but I’ve never played hockey. Not ice hockey, anyway. I never had a chance to try. There were no facilities near me, so…” I trailed off with a shrug.
“In that case… If those skates fit you, they’re all yours. And I’ll speak to Ryan, see who we need to contact to get you on the ice. Your high school has a team, so why not see if you like it?”
When I laced up those boots and stepped onto the ice with a hockey stick clasped in my gloved hands, I felt at home in the USA for the first time. On the ice, everything else went quiet. It was just me, the stick, and the puck. And somehow, I had a natural talent for it.
All the times that my dad left me alone for work became easier to bear because I had this.
Hockey. And I had a team with the same goal as me—to do our best and get the win out there on the ice, with the crowd cheering us on.
I could throw myself into it, pushing my body to the limit and exhausting my mind as well as my muscles.
It was easier to ignore the loneliness when you had a sport to fill your time. Easier to convince your mind that everything was okay, that you weren’t missing out on anything.
I thought I was doing fine. I’d managed to paper over the cracks. My life was good. I had hockey, a team that depended on me, people who wanted to be with me, and even those who wanted to be me.
Then there was a party at the lake, and every-fucking-thing fell apart.