30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Maggie
M y knees buckled when Grady strode through the emergency room doors. Relief hit so hard darkness tinged the edges of my vision, threatening to drag me under. He swooped me into his arms and kept me from sliding to the ground. His lips skimmed the top of my head, and I sighed. How had he known I needed him?
My thoughts were so muddled. The minute I’d answered Joseph Goldtooth’s frantic phone call about finding Dad on the floor, all logic or reason had fled. On autopilot, I’d met the ambulance at the hospital, but I hadn’t been able to see my father. Instead, Dad’s closest colleague, David Rigilotto, had entered the waiting room with tears in his eyes, and I’d known, before he said a word. Dad’s condition was grave. Not once had I considered what had happened would be this bad.
“How are you here?” I clutched his shirt, my words garbled, trying to keep in my sob.
“Lila and Trent called. It’s awful. It’s so fucking awful.” He squeezed me tighter.
Inexplicably, Lila had been the first one I’d called when David delivered the news. My mother or Tyler or Emily would have been the logical choices, but I couldn’t bear to say the words aloud. David had offered, but I hadn’t known how to organize my thoughts.
This all had to be a mistake. A dozen times, I’d opened my mouth to tell David he had to be wrong. Dad couldn’t be dead. I’d seen him a few hours ago, and he’d been fine. We’d listened to Grady’s music together, marveling at his talent, at how funny life could be, how the bad things didn’t always stay bad.
I’d stared at David who reminded me of Dad in age, height, and that doctorly way he carried himself. My mouth had kept opening and closing, a fish suffocating, and no words had come out.
My father. My dad. Daddy.
The numbness spun, attaching like the stickiest web. I’d called Lila, and with panic in her voice, Lila had said she’d call everyone else. A testament to our friendship, she’d known everyone else included Grady, and Trent was the best person to get him here.
The next person to arrive was Lila, and she looked how I felt, as though she’d spent hours ugly crying. I hadn’t shed a tear. Without a word, Lila turned our two-person hug into a three-person one by embracing me and Grady. We’d stood like that for a long time before my mother arrived, who’d been out of town shopping, then Emily, then Tyler, and finally Trent. Each time I saw the reality of Dad’s death hit a family member, a piece of my heart ripped. I clung to Grady, letting his strength seep into me. He took all my pain and confusion, and he absorbed it, never telling me to be strong or trying to make the awfulness less awful.
I listened at the hospital while my mother made arrangements with one of the local funeral homes over the phone. We had to go to the funeral parlor tomorrow to form a plan. For the first time, I was a reluctant organizer. No matter how I turned my father’s death around, it made no sense. While Mom talked about the things that needed to be done, I tuned out, tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. A part of me admired Mom’s bravery, her composure, and I hated her for it too. Organizing was Mom’s way to cope in a crisis—the lawyer in her liked order and structure. I was usually like that too. This time, I wanted to avoid, avoid, avoid. But there was nowhere to hide.
I left my car in the hospital parking lot, and Grady drove us in his truck to my parents’ sweeping brick two-story house. Except my childhood home wasn’t my parents’ house anymore. From now on, it would be my mother’s house. All these little injustices hit one after another.
We sat on the couches in the warm, wood-infused open-concept living room, and everywhere I looked I saw my father. He was on the walls in photos from our childhood right up until a few weeks ago when we’d had fall family photos done. His gym bag was by the door. His messy doctor scrawl was across the whiteboard my parents used to communicate with each other. When I glanced at the recliner, I could imagine him sitting there, the outline of his body, a grin on his face.
He was writ large in the house.
Time would erase his presence.
I couldn’t bear for him to be gone. I didn’t know how to bear his absence, the erosion of his presence in this house, in our life.
Beside me, Grady squeezed my knee as though sensing my shifting mood. The night passed in a blur of conversations happening around me as my siblings and Mom came to terms with Dad’s death. A brain aneurysm. He never stood a chance.
When it got so late everyone seemed to fuse to the couches, Mom suggested we sleep there. I couldn’t stomach the thought of waking up and knowing Dad would never be in the house again.
Instead, I turned to Grady with pleading eyes, and he used his dogs as an excuse to get us out of there.
In the truck, we rode in silence for a while before he smoothed my hair, drawing my attention. “I know how hard this is. Cry. Don’t cry. But you gotta let yourself feel his absence, Maggie.” He pressed the heel of his hand to his chest. “You gotta let yourself live in the awfulness for a while, or the awfulness goes on for too long.”
Tears flooded my eyes, and I blinked them away. A few stray tears trickled down my cheeks. “How do people survive this? How do people lose a parent and keep going as if part of their world hasn’t come to an end?”
He glanced at me as he pulled into his driveway. Half turning in his seat, he wiped my tears with his thumbs and cradled my face. “I don’t think any of us survive it unscathed. We carry the wound for the rest of our lives. But the more time that passes, the less the weight feels like it’s going to crush you. Grief won’t crush you, Maggie. Okay? I won’t let it crush you.”
I stared into his deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, and his brow creased. His thumbs brushed away the tears that kept falling. “Sorry about what?”
“That I never knew, that I never understood how awful it must have been for you, all these years, without your dad.”
He swallowed and our foreheads touched. “Your dad was there the night my dad died.”
Just the mention of him made my heart constrict. “He was?”
“He was the doctor on call, and he sat with me while I waited for my turn to say goodbye. I loved your dad from that moment on. He saved me from myself more than once.” There were tears in his eyes now. “Don’t ever be sorry you didn’t know, Maggie May,” his voice was gruff. “I wish you still didn’t know.”
My throat closed up, a sob threatening to burst forth. I tried to swallow the grief, think of something else. But each time my gaze met Grady’s, I saw the two men I loved most in the world sitting side-by-side in the same hospital waiting room I’d been in today, one young, one old, having no idea how their lives would intersect in the years to come.
“He loved us so hard.” A half sob escaped me. Tears filled my eyes and blurred my view of Grady. “He knew what it was like to lose a dad.”
“He did.” His voice was thick with tears, and the moonlight caught the glint of moisture on his cheeks before he could wipe them away.
The silence stretched between us, filled with all the things we could say to each other. But I couldn’t handle any confessions, wasn’t sure I had the language to express the grief welling up, swirling around my chest, hardening into something solid and substantial, and far too heavy to accept.
“Can we go in? I don’t want to talk anymore. I don’t want to think anymore.” I rubbed my face, exhaustion settling like a cloak.
“Yeah.” He climbed out and came around to slide his arm around me as we walked to the house. “Whatever you need.” He pressed a kiss to my temple, and I leaned into his side, wrapping my arms around his middle.
While he let out his dogs, I got undressed and slipped under the covers, trying to keep my mind from straying to thoughts of Dad. Each time my brain touched on him, my stomach rolled, and my chest tightened with the weight resting on top of it.
When Grady slid into bed behind me, he tugged me flush against his chest, fitting us together like two puzzle pieces. I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay. But I was sure that would be a lie, one he’d never tell. How could anything ever be okay again?
As I drifted to sleep, he kissed my neck and secured me more firmly. For the first time in hours, the thought which had plagued me for days resurfaced. My eyes popped open.
Grady planned to leave.
His breathing evened out, and I stared into the darkness, wondering how to prevent Grady from ripping what was left of my heart into a thousand pieces.
The next day tore through the fabric of my heart as I helped to pick out a coffin, chose a date for the funeral, decided which of Dad’s many suits best exemplified him, selected family photos for the digital tribute, and gave Emily and Tyler input for the eulogy. People had been everywhere paying their respects, giving condolences, and delivering food. Each act of kindness had threatened to suck my polite mask right off my face.
Every step was excruciating, exhausting, and at the back of my mind had been the realization that I couldn’t rely on Grady. If he was considering LA without talking to me, keeping that secret told me all I needed to know. He’d clearly had time before now to talk to me about it, and he’d chosen not to.
Rather than dwell on the awfulness of my father, I’d spent most of the day wrapped in thoughts of Grady and his imminent abandonment. Separately, the two events would’ve been overwhelming, but together I couldn’t process either one. Emotional overload had hit me hard.
By the time I got home at nine that night, I couldn’t call Grady. I didn’t have anything left to give him. A bit of distance was the best idea. I could ease out of whatever was happening, and maybe that would lessen the hurt—whenever I could feel something, anything, again.
He probably felt bad for me right now. He knew what it was like to lose a parent. I didn’t want him to stay in Little Falls out of a sense of obligation. When he texted to see if I was home, I couldn’t even open his message.
At ten, I was brushing my teeth for bed when my doorbell rang. Ginger skittered across the floor, startled by the sound. I usually laughed at Ginger’s foolish behavior, but there was no room for humor tonight. I laid my hand against the front door. Grady was the only person who’d come this late at night, but I was too afraid to look.
My vehicle was in the driveway. Maybe he’d think I was asleep if I didn’t answer?
“Come on, Maggie. I can feel you on the other side of the door. I know you’re there. Let me in.”
I jumped back, startled. “You can feel me?” A frown settled between my brows as I opened the door.
“I’ve developed a Maggie sense. Well, I think that sense developed a long time ago. I’m just finally listening to whatever causes it.” He stepped past me into the house, carrying a take-out bag.
The smell of Thai food wafted in with him. There wasn’t a Thai restaurant in Little Falls. People drove to Utica. Grady had driven to Utica. “What’s that?”
“Thai from the restaurant you raved about the other night when we were talking about food and travel.” He unpacked the bag onto the kitchen table.
As the dishes came out, I read the labels in silence. He’d bought every dish I’d listed as a favorite. There was enough food to feed a small army. I would be eating it for weeks. I rubbed my face, my resolve wavering. Why did he have to be trying so hard at the wrong things? I couldn’t even articulate exactly what I needed, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t any of this.
“I figured,” he said, moving around my kitchen with ease, “you probably had a shitty day and likely didn’t eat much. Maybe you don’t want this either, I don’t know. Worth a try. We can freeze some of it.” He put the two plates and cutlery on the table and glanced at me. “Are you—are you hungry?”
“How did you know I was home?”
“Emily.” He examined me from across the small table, neither of us sitting down. “I texted her when you didn’t respond. She said you were probably in the shower or something, and you’d all had a long day.”
I hadn’t told anyone I planned to let things end with Grady. Given what else was going on, they’d probably try to talk me out of my decision. But if he intended to leave, I might as well rip off this Band-Aid while the other wound was still bleeding. At the moment, I felt so unlike myself that I couldn’t imagine feeling worse. It couldn’t get any worse.
“Did you want to talk? Or just eat? Or go to bed? If you’re tired, I can put this in the fridge for tomorrow.”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
He took a step toward me and tried to draw me into a hug. I sidestepped him and went to the cupboard to take out a glass. My hand shook while I filled it at the tap.
“It’s not easy—”
“I don’t mean about my dad,” I said, closing my eyes, but I kept my back to him. “I mean us. I just—I don’t have the emotional energy to do this right now. I’m tapped out.”
“I’m not asking for anything from you. I know how hard it is to lose your dad. I want to help. I don’t want to make things harder.”
With a sigh, I straightened my shoulders and turned to face him. “LA is pretty far away to be helpful.”
He reared back and drew a hand down his face, but not before I saw the surprise in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw the text message from your agent the other day. I know about the LA job offer.” Ginger had reappeared and was weaving herself between my legs. I scooped her up, burying my face in the cat’s fluffy fur so I didn’t have to see the indecision flash across Grady’s face. Obviously, he’d never meant for me to find out. Another rip frayed the edges of my heart. “I think you should go to LA. Take the job. It’s a great opportunity for you. There’s nothing keeping you here except a half-assed race for mayor.” I took a deep breath. “You never wanted any of this, anyway. It just kinda happened.”
“ Any of this?” His jaw clenched. “What’s that mean?”
“The mayor job. You ran to piss me off. It worked. Job well-done. And, I don’t know, whatever’s been happening with us. We were never serious. I get that. No need to spell it out now.”
“Did I say that?” He stepped toward me. “Where the hell is this coming from, Maggie? How did you come to the conclusion I don’t want to be with you?” His brown eyes blazed with hurt and anger.
I looked away. I didn’t want to see those things in his eyes. Instead, I clung to the surprise and indecision I’d read on his face a minute ago. “Were you going to take the job in LA?”
He rubbed his cheeks and sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t had enough time to think about it. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you.”
“Little Falls will never be enough for you.” What I wanted to say was I would never be enough, but I held the words close to my heart.
“I never said that. Don’t do that. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He reached for me.
I stepped to the side. If he touched me, I’d go up in flames. Let him and this feeling consume me, and my heart would be burned to a crisp when he left. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Go to LA. Take the job. It’s okay. I’m telling you it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
He shook his head, and his frustration was palpable in the room. “I don’t want to fight with you right now. You’ve got a lot going on.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“Trust me. We could be fighting right now.” Grady stole my calming move by drawing his index and thumb down the center of his chest. In any other circumstance, the motion would have made me smile. The action softened my resolve the tiniest bit to see another reminder he’d been paying attention to.
His gaze bored into me. “I’m deep breathing the shit out of my inner monologue to keep from saying all kinds of crap that’ll probably piss you off. I don’t want to fight.”
“What would we even fight about? You want to go. I’m telling you to go.”
“Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come to LA with me.”
I dragged my hair into a ponytail and twisted it into a fist before letting it fall. “I can’t do that.” Even if I could, having him ask after I’d outed him didn’t show he wanted me along but rather he was attempting to salvage something between us. I had a business, and I was the mayor of the goddamn town. I couldn’t pick up and leave on a whim. I wasn’t him.
“Why not?” He shifted closer, and the scent of wintergreen enveloped me.
“Grady, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not mad, okay? I’m just done. You don’t need to try to make me feel better. We had fun for a little while, but something better came along, and you want that. I get it.”
“I haven’t accepted the job.” He huffed out a breath. “You’re really fucking frustrating right now.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep, steadying breath. “But there’s a lot going on, and this job offer is another thing to add to the pile. That’s part of the reason I didn’t tell you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was wrong. I should have told you. I should have told you right away, clearly. I didn’t want you to get hurt by something I wasn’t even sure I wanted.”
“Tell me you don’t have any urge to leave.” I’d heard the way he talked about his travels, how much he loved being on the road, and deep down, he must know I’d hold him back. “Tell me, and be honest, that the idea of leaving doesn’t appeal to you at all.”
“I know what I want. Are you telling me you don’t want to be with me? And are you saying this because your dad died or because that’s really how you feel?”
He couldn’t even answer my question. Of course he wanted to leave. Isn’t that what Trent had told me? And it’s not like I hadn’t experienced it firsthand already.
“I think you should go,” I whispered. “I need you to go.” Numbness was sweeping over again, saving me.
“Maggie,” he pleaded. “We need to talk about this.”
“You’re going to leave. I never expected you to stay. I’m trying to make it easier on both of us. I can’t do more hard things right now. Please, just go.”
His gaze was hot on me for a few moments, and silence sat between them. “I’ll go,” he murmured. “It’s been a long couple of days for you. I get it. I don’t want to make things worse. But I don’t agree with whatever version of us you’ve got in your head.”
“The real version is in my head, finally. I might have said I’d travel the world, but the truth is that Little Falls has my heart. This is where I belong. I’m never going to leave, and you’re never going to stay.”
He hung his head, and his hands went white from pressing into the granite countertop. He sighed and pushed away from the island. When his fingers brushed my jaw, the contact startled me, but then he pressed his lips to my temple, and I leaned toward him like a tree bent by the wind. I wanted to bend and bend and bend and never have to worry about standing upright alone again. But I didn’t know how to trust that he’d be there to hold me up.
In my ear, Grady whispered, “You’re my heart. You’re where I belong. I’m not giving up on you. But I’ll give you the space you want.”
Then he grabbed his coat and walked out the door. I followed him, torn between throwing open the door and begging him to come back and flicking the lock in place, guarding my tattered heart. I didn’t know what to believe, and I didn’t have the mental energy to figure it out. With a decisiveness I didn’t feel, I rotated the deadbolt. The familiar weight of loss stretched across my chest as the lock tumbled into place.