Chapter 6
Danny
Everything in me is buzzing with nervous energy as we finally make our way into residential Williamsburg.
Gracie sits up higher in her seat, peering out the passenger side window at the passing brownstones. “This is a pretty fancy neighborhood you’ve got here, Thompson.”
I inwardly groan. What will it take for this grumpy, precious woman to call me by my Gracie-given name again?
“Oh yeah, well. Gotta spend the money on something, you know?”
I immediately cringe. What I’m not saying is that I have no one in my life to spend the money on.
I try to spoil my mom, but she only wants streaming subscriptions and airline tickets to see me play.
My sister, Tessa, is more agreeable to receiving gifts.
Like any twenty-something who goes through frequent heartbreak, she loves to partake in therapy, both psychological and retail.
She lets me buy her things when we go shopping together, but those afternoons are more about the company than the cost—which is negligible in the grand scheme of things.
To Gracie, it might seem like I have everything, but I have little-to-nothing of what I really want. Might as well live somewhere nice.
“I know you took the train to the stadium, but do you have a rental car? Where are you staying?” A horrendous thought occurs to me, and my stomach bottoms out.
In my delusional state, I never considered the possibility that she…
“Are you here with someone?” I blurt, before glancing at her ring finger and finding it blissfully empty.
My limbs feel looser as I sigh in relief.
Gracie throws me a look of pity, seeing right through my line of questioning.
“No rental car. The subway was the only option that would get me there on time. I was in a hurry to leave Ohio, and booking ahead slipped my mind. I’ll just grab a nearby hotel for the night before I fly back home tomorrow evening.
You can drop me off at the closest subway station by your house after we’re done here, and I’ll wait there for the next… what?”
I narrow my eyes at her scrunched up face and turn the radio off entirely.
“Gracie. I know it’s been years since we last saw each other, but some things never change.
Leaving you at a subway station isn’t an option.
” I blow out a frustrated breath, barreling through.
“Plus, if you don’t have a hotel yet, you can stay with me for the night.
Hotels in the city are expensive, especially this time of year.
New York is very popular in the winter. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them, but there’s these, like, famous dancers—the Rockettes, and of course the Rockefeller tree, and tons of tourists come… ”
Gracie cuts me with a doozy of a look. I sigh with fondness and familiarity. I’ve missed all her looks.
“Believe it or not, I have indeed heard of the Rockettes,” she tells me dryly. “And I have enough money for a hotel, Dan.”
And we’re back to Dan. Call me the opposite of Neil Armstrong, because I’m taking neither steps nor leaps.
“Of course you do, but you’ll probably have a hard time finding one that’s available right now.”
She worries her bottom lip. “Maybe. We haven’t hung out in forever, though… You don’t think it’ll be weird?”
The ten years of silence sits between us like a concrete wall. I decide to bulldoze right through it. Back then, I didn’t want to derail her from vet school. Now, it’s different. She’s here, and I can’t miss my opportunity.
“No. It’s definitely, totally, one hundred percent normal to hang out after ten years,” I say, wishing I could call Dr. Biddle to confirm. “If that’s not a good enough reason, stay with me because I want you to. I have so much space. You probably won’t even see me.”
It’s a miracle I refrain from gagging on all these lies spewing out of my mouth. Of course Gracie will see me. She knows that. I know that. Ms. Marsha, my neighbor three houses down, knows that. But desperate times call for desperate persuasive tactics to convince her to stay.
“Plus, Mom is coming by for brunch tomorrow, and she would absolutely love to see you.” My mom was in Gracie’s very small “safe space” circle growing up.
“You can ask her the favorite television movie question you asked me directly. You’ll get to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Doesn’t that sound exciting? To hear directly from the horse’s mouth? You know, with the horse being my mother.”
Wishing I hadn’t said the word “horse” multiple times, I sigh and stare straight out the windshield. It’s a low blow, using my mom as a pawn to convince her to stay, but what is a flawed man who just ran into the love of his life to do?
She slowly exhales. “Exhilarating.”
I pause. “So?”
“I would love to see Janie,” she muses, “and we do have a lot to catch up on. I’m also kind of hungry.”
Of course she is. I’m pretty sure she invented the word hangry.
I, on the other hand, have been so distracted by Gracie I’ve lost all hunger cues.
But I won’t risk turning around for food.
I’m afraid she’ll exit this car to get a sandwich and never come back.
Not that I want to trap her. Except…I do want to trap her. Forever.
Inwardly, I choose to move past that concerning thought.
We don’t really have time to go back out, anyway. It’s getting late and traffic is worsening by the New York minute. It doesn’t help that I’m driving this car like I’m bringing up the rear of a funeral procession.
When we finally pull into my heated garage, I turn off the ignition and face Gracie, who is still fiddling with her seat controls.
“Do you want me to order burgers and milkshakes for us? The delivery folks are usually pretty speedy to this neighborhood.”
Gracie must be starving, because she easily agrees. “That’d honestly be great.”
Finally, a win. I should’ve started with food in the first place. A rookie mistake I won’t make twice. I unlock my phone and open the delivery app.
Gracie starts telling me her order. “I’ll have a burger, hold the—”
“—pickles, add extra caramelized onions, substitute shredded lettuce for leaves of lettuce. And I got sides of BBQ sauce and mustard so you can mix them on top of the patty, like a psychopath.”
She blinks slowly.
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you really think I’d forget your hyper-specific burger order?” After eating at our hometown diner with her so many times, I couldn’t forget her order if I tried. It’s like the Fifty States That Rhyme song. Useless, except in very specific situations.
Her eyes widen with surprise. “No, I’m just… Wow. You have a great memory.”
“I remember everything when it comes to us, Gracie.”
As her jaw ever-so-slightly drops, I realize I might’ve overshared. But it’s true. I remember all of it, all of us. The something, the everything, the nothing. The good and the bad.
It’s nearly impossible for me to forget the bad.