Twenty-Six Geny
Grace is sitting on the couch, staring at her phone when I get home. She jumps when she sees me and puts her phone down beside her. More conversations with the man she’s hiding from me.
“You’re home early,” she says. “How was work?”
I set my stuff down beside the door so I can get out of my coat. It’s only then I realize my shoes are covered in sand. I kick them off and scoot them under the entryway table with my foot.
“It was fine. How was your day?”
“Fine.”
I nod. She’s watching me, and I wonder what she sees. My mood switches between self-righteous annoyance and the urge to gloss over our earlier argument to make things more pleasant.
“Hey,” Grace says. She shifts to face me fully and pulls her foot beneath her to sit on. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I was talking to Murphy, and we were thinking it’d be nice for all of us to get together like old times.”
“Oh—” I stumble, not sure how to respond. Not sure if I am interested in doing that. She looks at me, patiently waiting for me to work through it.
“Sure,” I say, finally. “That would be nice. When?”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I know it’s short notice—”
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “We can get Wyatt’s parents to come by and keep an eye on Carter.”
I decide that we need this. Something that feels a bit like old times. Like the playlist in the car. It’ll be good for me and Grace, and I think maybe for me and Wyatt too. A night with friends to remember that things can be fun and not just a struggle.
All the nasty feelings from earlier disappear and I’m left feeling excited. Hopeful.
“Great.” Grace smiles. “I think we’re getting together at Murphy’s house. Are he and Wyatt still close?”
“Sort of,” I say. “They still talk and have a beer from time to time, but it’s not like it was back then. With jobs and families and whatnot.”
“Right,” she says.
Our conversation falls off again. I walk around to grab the remote and turn the TV on for some noise.
Then I excuse myself to go upstairs and get cleaned up.
I send Wyatt a text to give him a heads-up about the plans tonight and ask him to see if his parents will come by to stay with the boys.
Jack is old enough to watch Carter. He reminds me of this every time his grandparents come over to babysit.
But I’m not quite comfortable with it yet. Maybe in another year or two.
Wyatt texts back and his response is short. He’s still upset with me.
They said they could come by at six.
I like the message and jump into the shower. Tonight will be fun. I’m determined for it to be. I will be fun. I’ll remind Wyatt that we do have chemistry and we aren’t just a marriage of convenience. I’ll remind myself.
But how can I ever expect to stand out next to Grace? She’s always been the fun one. She’s more outgoing and she attracts people. She’s a flame to moths. I’ve always faded into the background next to her. I remind myself though, Wyatt did see me. He was with her and he still saw me.
He didn’t pick me.
Not until Grace was gone and I was pregnant.
By the end of my shower I’ve worked myself into a panic again.
The mental tug-of-war putting me on edge and I can’t seem to find my way out of it.
I towel myself off and wipe the steam from the mirror with my hand.
I hardly recognize my reflection. My eyes are bloodshot and heavy bags hang below them. This is all wearing on me.
Back downstairs, Grace is buried in her phone again.
“Talking to anyone interesting?” I try to keep the question playful, but I think I miss the mark.
“Huh? Oh. No. Just checking work emails.”
“Mm. Well, Wyatt’s parents can be here at six to watch the kids if that works?”
She perks up. “Yeah. That’s perfect. I’ll text Murphy.”
Later, Grace volunteers to help the boys with their homework while I make dinner and Wyatt gets showered and dressed for the evening out. I watch her from the other side of the kitchen, trying to wrap my head around the image. One day she’s dead, the next she’s helping my kids with schoolwork.
She’s better with them than I would have thought.
She didn’t care much for kids when we were younger.
I was the one who babysat and worked with the youth groups in church.
But you’d never know that now. The way she can interact with both Carter and Jack even though they’re so different in age and demeanor.
The doorbell rings and Carter jumps up to run to the door. I turn the burner off on the stove and follow behind him.
“Grandpa!” Carter shouts and jumps into Frank’s arms.
Tina stands beside him with her hands on her hips. “What about Grandma? Grandpa isn’t the one who brought cookies for after dinner.”
Carter instantly wiggles out of Frank’s arms and launches himself at Tina.
“Oh that’s cheating. I thought you were above bribery,” Frank says.
Tina carries Carter inside. “I’m not.”
I smile and mumble a hello, which no one returns. I try to bite back annoyance that they brought cookies for the kids without asking me first. They know I try to limit the sugar the kids have, but they’ve never cared.
The unwelcome thought of how they’d treat Grace as a daughter-in-law breaks into my mind before I can stop it. The thought only grows when Grace comes out of the kitchen and Tina wraps her into a hug.
“Oh, hi, hunny. How are you?” Tina holds Grace by the shoulders and beams at her.
“I’m good. As good as I can be in the circumstances.”
“Of course. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She hugs her again. “I’m so sorry you lost him before you came back. And for everything going on now.” Tina releases her and pins her with a sympathetic look.
“Yeah, it’s awful. I hate hearing these kinds of things about him. People gossiping that knew him.”
“People are just scared. It’s a scary accusation, and now he isn’t here to defend himself. But the truth will come out. Don’t you worry. It always comes out eventually.”
I swallow hard. “We should start heading out now,” I say.
Tina spins as though she’s just realized I’m here.
“Well, where’s Wyatt? Is he even ready yet?”
Wyatt comes down the stairs. “I’m here. I’m coming. Sorry.”
We both hug the boys and say our goodbyes before shuffling outside. The wind bites right through me, and I pull my coat tighter.
“I can drive us,” I say. There will be the most room in the SUV rather than Wyatt’s truck or Grace’s Trans Am.
“I’m going to drive separate,” Grace says. “I’ll meet you guys over there.”
She jogs off to her car before I can argue. That’s fine. It’s fine. Wyatt and I can have a little time alone on the ride over there. I can attempt to warm him over before we’re in a crowd since he’s still being cold toward me after our argument.