Chapter 8 Grady
GRADY
I’d stayed the night on Esme’s couch after Robbie and I got back from the hospital.
After we ate frozen burritos I found in the freezer, we’d watched a little television but Robbie was tired and decided to head to bed early.
After he’d gone to his room, I’d lain awake for a while, listening to the apartment settle, thinking about Esme alone in that hospital chair beside Madison’s bed and wishing they were both home.
Texting Mara with my change of plans, I got online and rearranged my flight, then settling in for what was a fitful night.
In the morning, Robbie appeared at exactly seven-fifteen, dressed for school, backpack already on.
“Morning,” I said. “Sleep well?”
“I believe so. I feel quite rested.”
“Do you need a ride anywhere?” I asked him.
“No, thank you. I take bus 407 to school. It takes approximately twelve minutes, depending on traffic,” Robbie said, tugging his jacket from the hook over his cubby.
“What about lunch? Do you need me to pack it for you?”
“No, I eat school lunch now.” He said it as if it were a major accomplishment, which for Robbie might be true.
“What about breakfast?”
“I’ll take it with me.” Robbie grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and stuck it in his backpack. “Will you be here when I get home?”
“Yes. I’m hoping we’ll be able to get your mom and Madison this afternoon.”
“I’ll be home a little after three,” Robbie said.
After he headed down the stairs for the bus stop, I folded the blanket Esme kept on the back of the couch and fluffed the pillows.
Madison might be hungry when they got home, so I decided to whip up a batch of morning glory muffins.
They were her favorite, and I wanted them to be ready when she came home.
I knew where everything was, having spent so much time in Esme’s kitchen.
The mixing bowls were in the cabinet next to the sink and the muffin tin on the shelf above the stove.
Flour and sugar in matching glass jars on the counter.
I pulled carrots and apple from the refrigerator and found raisins and walnuts in the pantry.
In no time, I had the batch in the oven.
While they baked, I tidied up the kitchen and swept the floors.
After the muffins came out of the oven, I took Trevor for a walk, then to the grocery store to get bread, cheese and several cans of tomato soup to make for Robbie when he returned from school.
Esme texted that Madison would be released sometime that afternoon and she’d let me know the exact time once she knew it.
The key turned in the lock a few minutes after three. Robbie came in, backpack over one shoulder, and set it in his cubby.
“How was school?” I asked from the stove, where I’d already started heating the pan for a grilled cheese.
Esme had shown me how to make it her way, with the butter on the outside of the bread, medium heat so the cheese melts before the bread burns and cut diagonally. And, for all that was holy, no crusts.
“Adequate. Mr. Murphy let me skip ahead to the multivariate section in our textbook.” He pulled out a chair and sat. “During lunch, I looked up the type of surgical pins they used on Madison. Stainless steel. Impressive tensile strength.”
“Your sister would be thrilled to hear that.” I dumped a can of soup into a pan on the stove, stirring in an equal amount of water, and turned on the burner.
“I intend to tell her everything. She’ll want a full report.”
“I’m not sure she will,” I said, smiling.
Trevor lumbered to his feet and ambled over, pressing his head gently against Robbie’s leg. Robbie absently rested a hand on his head, fingers moving in slow, absentminded strokes.
“Have you heard from Mother? How’s Madison?”
“Yes, they’re both fine. Madison’s being discharged this afternoon. Your mom’s going to text me when they’re ready.” I flipped the sandwich, happy to see that the bread had not burned.
“Good. I’ll be sure to have my homework done before they get home. Thank you for remembering about the crusts.”
“My pleasure.”
When it was golden brown on both sides and the cheese had melted, I slid the sandwich onto a plate, poured the soup into a bowl, then set them in front of him at the table. I sat across from him, sensing he had something to say.
“Mother will be worrying about how to pay the medical bill.” Robbie said this matter-of-factly. “Our insurance is sub-par.”
“Let her worry about that. You’re a kid.”
He tilted his head to one side. “A different kind of kid.”
“A great kid,” I said.
He smiled. “Thanks, Grady. Not everyone sees me that way.”
“Well, those people aren’t worth hanging with, right?”
Robbie picked up half the sandwich, studied it for a second before taking a bite. “Did Mother talk to you about what we discovered? About who you really are?”
“She did. We were talking about it when she got the call from school about Madison.”
“Are you mad at me? For figuring it out?”
“Gosh, no. I was the one who gave it away. When I saw the news about my father’s death, I sort of freaked out.”
“And ran out of here.”
“That’s right. Your mom knows me better than anyone. She could tell something was wrong. It’s no surprise she had you do a little digging.”
“I find it interesting that you worked as a talent agent in Los Angeles. I would not have predicted that.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re Grady. You’re fun. Spontaneous. Curious. I can’t imagine you wearing a suit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not wearing a suit any longer.”
“Are you sad?” Robbie asked.
“You mean about my dad’s death?”
“Yes.”
“My feelings are complicated. I won’t mourn him, if that’s what you want to know. He was a terrible person. The world’s better off without him.”
Robbie nodded slowly. “My father’s terrible too. I don’t think I would be sad if he died.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m glad he’s gone but I wish he’d help Mother with money. He’s always out of a job. Did you know it’s because of me that Mother kicked him out? I was a disappointment to him. He couldn’t understand me. And he didn’t try.”
“That’s his loss, I’m sorry to say.”
“He made me feel like something was wrong with me. A lot of people do.”
The backs of my eyes stung. “There’s nothing wrong with you, buddy. Anyway, maybe it’s all of those so-called normal people who are actually wrong.”
“Was your dad mean to you?” Robbie carefully set down his sandwich before taking a sip of his soup.
He was not the dip your sandwich in the soup kind of guy.
Food must be separated. I’d learned that the first time I hung out with him and made the mistake of putting everything too close on his plate. “Or just other people?”
“He was mean to me too. But not like what he did to those women.”
“Why did he do it? I looked up the kind of assault committed by your father, and it’s widely thought that it’s about power over the victims.”
“I don’t know why he did it. But he did. And he got away with it for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you want anyone to know who you are?” Robbie asked.
“It’s hard to explain. I felt like everyone would think there was something wrong with me. Because of what he did. But I also wanted to distance myself from him. To start fresh. I felt ashamed, I guess.”
“When my father left, I sincerely hoped I would never have to see him again. So I understand.” Robbie dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and pushed away his empty plate.
“One time, before they got divorced, my dad took me to a monster truck show. He proceeded to have many beers and kept getting louder and louder. I could see the people around us wishing they’d sat somewhere else.
At one point, he went to get another beer and tripped coming back to our seats.
Landed on his face. Beer and popcorn went everywhere.
He didn’t get up for a second. I thought he might be dead, but he wasn’t.
He just had a bloody nose. He was angry, though.
At me. There was a look in his eyes—I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but it was like he hated me.
I thought he might hit me in front of all those people.
I didn’t understand why he was mad at me.
That bothers me. He’s a puzzle I can’t solve. ”
“I can’t say for sure, but he was probably mad at himself and needed someone to blame it on.”
“Regardless, I’m telling you this story to tell you I get it. I wished I wasn’t his son that day. I could feel people pitying me. Looking at me as if I were a victim. I didn’t care for that. And all I wanted to do was run away and never see him again.”
“Yep, that pretty much sums it up.”
“I was wondering something, though,” Robbie said. “Do you miss having money?”
I blinked, surprised by the question. “How do you know I had money?”
“It’s not hard to understand,” Robbie said, sounding extra patient.
“You had a big job that paid very well. Fifteen percent of whatever deals you brokered for your clients, who, from what I could see, were very successful. In addition, you were from a very wealthy family. However, now it’s clear you do not have money now or you would have helped Mother when she needed it. ”
“Your mother’s unlikely to take help.”
“It would hurt her, but she would do it if it was something for Madison or me.”
I shook my head, marveling at this kid. “You’re correct on all counts.”
“Did you know? What your father was doing?” Robbie asked.
“No. Never.”
“Did people believe you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”
“I believe you.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“There’s something I would like to ask you about.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean, go for it,” I said.
“Actually, there are two things.”
I waited.
“I applied for a summer STEM program,” he said.
I glanced up. “You did?”