Chapter 8 Grady #2
“Yes. It’s hosted at USC this summer, focused on applied mathematics and engineering.
They only accept eight students nationally, so it’s unlikely I’ll be selected.
But my teacher encouraged me to apply, so I did.
However, I didn’t mention it to Mother. I didn’t want her to worry about the cost unless I was accepted. ”
“How much is it?”
“Fifty-eight hundred dollars.”
I nodded slowly, filing that away. There was no way Esme could come up with that money. But Gillian and Alex might offer to pay it. If Esme agreed, which was debatable. She might accept it if she knew it was for Robbie, but, still, it would hurt her pride.
Trevor let out a low sigh and flopped back down on the floor, chin on his paws, as if he knew how problematic fifty-eight hundred dollars was for Esme.
“And the other thing?” I asked.
“You and my mom.”
I braced myself. “Yeah?”
“Tyler and Annie told me not to ask you. They said to stay out of it.” He looked up. “But I would like to understand the truth. Are you in love with my mother?”
I stared at him. His expression was completely neutral, like he’d asked what time it was.
Should I lie to him? No, I couldn’t do it. Not to Robbie.“Yes. I am.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” I stopped. How did I explain this to a fourteen-year-old? “It’s complicated.”
“Is it because you don’t think you’re good enough for her? Because of your father? Or is it because you no longer have money?”
I drew in a sharp breath. Robbie was on a tear this afternoon. “Both.”
“I observed your behavior the other night when she went on the date with Mark. You were agitated. You kept looking at your watch. You asked me four times if I thought she should be home yet. You mumbled about hoping she was safe with him. Then I learned about your father and what he did. It was logical to conclude that shame about your family history is preventing you from pursuing a relationship with my mother.”
I rubbed my face with both hands.
“Which, by the way, is illogical,” Robbie said. “Thinking your father’s actions determine your worth. They don’t. You’re not him.”
“I know that. Intellectually. But emotionally it’s harder to believe.”
“I understand.” He finished his soup, set the spoon down carefully in the bowl. “Madison’s shoes are too small.”
“They are?”
“Yes, they hurt her feet. She told me two weeks ago. She hasn’t told Mother.” His voice stayed even. “She said she doesn’t want to worry her.”
My jaw clenched.
“She’s walking around in shoes that hurt her feet,” Robbie said. “I wonder if that was one of the reasons she fell from the monkey bars.”
How had I let this happen? I should have been watching more carefully. I could have bought Madison a new pair of shoes.
“And now there’s a hospital bill,” Robbie said. “My father will be useless, as usual. So Mother will have to figure out something, which she always does, but it’s hard on her. I hear her crying sometimes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I could barely speak over the lump in my throat.
“Will there be anything coming to you? In your father’s will?” Robbie asked.
“Yes. I’m supposed to go to L.A. to meet with the probate attorney. My understanding is that he left my sister and me something. However, I’m not sure how much, and I’m not certain I even want it.”
“Why?” Robbie looked at me, curiosity mixed with confusion in his expression.
“It’s blood money. He earned it from exploiting people. Hurting innocent women. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
Robbie appeared to consider this. “But what if you could use it for something good? Like helping people he hurt? Or helping my mom?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It seems simple to me. You have resources. We need resources. You love my mother.”
“Even if I had money, your mother doesn’t think of me that way,” I said. “We’re just friends.”
“You are mistaken.”
“She’s dating,” I said.
“She went on one date because she doesn’t understand your feelings for her. I can guarantee you that the doctor guy doesn’t make her light up like you do. No one does.”
I sat back in my chair. Was it possible that Esme felt the same way, or was Robbie merely wishing it to be true?
“I can’t take care of her and you kids,” I said. “Even if she wanted me, I’d be a terrible choice. She needs someone with a real job, who can provide for you guys.”
“You might, depending on your inheritance.”
“What would you do?” I asked. “If you were in my shoes? If it were your father’s money?”
Robbie smiled, clearly tickled by the idea. “He will never have money, unless he wins the lottery, which odds are strongly against. Thus, it’s difficult to picture. However, if I were to imagine that scenario, I would indeed take the money.”
“You would?”
“Yes. As much as I wish it weren’t so, money changes everything,” Robbie said. “It makes things easier. Gives a person freedom to live their life with purpose instead of merely surviving.”
I sat back, looking up at the ceiling. The kid was right. Money could change my life and possibly Esme’s too. If Robbie was right and she shared my feelings, we might have a chance.
“I don’t think money’s the root of all evil,” Robbie said. “Do you?”
“I haven’t seen a lot of evidence to the contrary.”
Robbie nodded. “An individual can be evil whether they’re poor or rich.
A person can be good whether they’re rich or poor.
We all get to decide how we want to be in the world.
Mother calls it being the hero of your own story.
You’re a good person, Grady. Everyone who knows you knows that.
Money doesn’t corrupt unless we allow it to.
Accepting your inheritance and subsequently doing good with it is the perfect antidote to your father’s misdeeds. ”
“You may have a point.” This kid was way too smart.
“I’m glad you think so.” Robbie stood and brought his plate and bowl to the sink. “Thank you for the grilled cheese. It was perfect.”
“I’m glad.”
He rinsed his dishes and set them in the rack to dry. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Always.”
“I think you should go to L.A. and hear the details of what your father left you and decide which direction you want to go. And then come back and tell my mom the truth about how you feel about her.”
Trevor thumped his tail in agreement, as if he’d reached the same conclusion.
Robbie grabbed his backpack from his cubby and headed toward his room. “I’m going to do homework. Please let me know when you’re leaving to get Madison.”
“Will do,” I said.
He paused at the door of his bedroom. “Grady?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re good enough for my mom. For all of us.” He shrugged. “And we’ll take you rich or poor, as long as you want to be part of our family.”
Then he disappeared into his room, leaving me near tears.
I washed the rest of the dishes and tidied up the counter, thinking about what Robbie had said.
Could it be true that Esme shared my feelings?
If so, what had kept her from opening up to me?
Would things be different if I were in a different place in life?
As in, financially solid, with a grown-up job instead of teaching surfing and selling boards?
Was my perpetual summer fated to end so that I could get the girl?
I pulled out my phone and texted Mara.
Grady
Flight comes in tomorrow at half past three. You still able to pick me up?
Mara
I’ll be outside baggage claim. I’m really glad you’re coming.
Grady
I have to face whatever this is. Even if I don’t want to.
Mara
XOXO
I wandered over to the sofa and turned on the television, but kept it muted, staring at the screen without really seeing it. Trevor hopped up beside me and put his head on my lap. I scratched behind his ears and waited.
A text came in from Esme.
Esme
We’re ready. She’s dressed and driving the nurses crazy asking when she can go home.
Grady
On my way. Fifteen minutes.
Esme
Can’t wait to see you. And thanks for being here for me.
Grady
Always.
Esme was standing outside the main entrance when I pulled up, one arm around Madison who was slumped against her side, clearly still on pain meds. Esme’s hair was in a messy bun and there were dark circles under her eyes. But she smiled and waved when she saw me.
I got out of the car to help them. Madison’s left arm was in a bright blue cast from fingertips to above her elbow. Her eyes were glassy, half-closed.
“Hey, Sweet Pea,” I said. “How you feeling?”
“Sad.” Her high-pitched voice was unusually subdued. “Mom says I can’t go to school tomorrow.”
“Maybe you can go back the day after tomorrow,” I said.
“I’m going to miss the field trip to the dairy farm.” Madison’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to see all the cows.”
“When you’re better, maybe we can go visit it together?” I asked, glancing up at Esme, who nodded.
“But I won’t get to go on the bus,” Madison said. “My best friend Holly will sit with someone else, and maybe she won’t like me when I get back to school.”
“Impossible,” I said. “She’s probably going to miss you very much.”
“I hope so.” Madison slipped her tiny hand into mine. “Grady, do you think I could have ice cream for dinner?”
I chuckled. “Doubtful. Your mom will want you to eat something healthy. I made your favorite muffins, though.”
“Will you carry me to the car?” Madison asked.
“You got it.” I scooped her into my arms, careful not to jostle her arm. She laid her sweet little head against my chest. “My eyes are tired.”
“Just rest. When we get home, we’ll get you settled on the couch,” I said.
I’d grabbed Madison’s booster seat from Esme’s car before I’d come. I carefully got Madison settled in, buckling the seatbelt over her lap.
“You remembered my special seat,” Madison said. “Just like a Grady does.”
“A Grady?” I asked, amused.
“A Grady is the very best of all,” Madison murmured, closing her eyes.
Esme got in the passenger seat, sinking back with a long exhale. She closed her eyes.
“You okay?” I asked as I started the engine.
“Just tired. Those hospital chairs are medieval torture devices.” She opened one eye. “Is Robbie okay?”
“Yep. I made him grilled cheese and tomato soup, as instructed.”
She reached across the console to touch my thigh, just for a second, but long enough to send sparks through my bloodstream. “Thanks so much for looking after him.”
“Grady?” Madison said as I pulled out of the hospital.
“Yeah?”
“Will you sign my cast first? Before anyone else?”
My throat tightened. This little girl wrecked me. “Sure. Soon as we get home.”
The morning was overcast, threatening rain again. Esme was quiet, resting her head against the window.
“Did you sleep at all?” I asked.
“Maybe two hours. They came in every couple hours to check on her.” She rubbed her face. “I’m going to take a shower and then pass out for a few hours before I have to open the shop.”
“Could you stay closed for today?”
“I have to finish the centerpieces.” She closed her eyes, sinking further into the seat.
“I’m here to help,” I said.
I glanced in the rearview mirror. Madison was asleep already, head tilted against the window.
A few minutes later, I drove down the alley to the parking area behind the shop. I carried Madison to the door while Esme unlocked it.
We made our way up the stairs. When we arrived at the apartment, Madison, snuggled against my chest, raised her head. “The muffins smell good. Grady muffins are the best muffins.”
“I made them just for you.” I brought her over to the couch and set her down, then knelt to take off her shoes.
“Like a Grady does,” Madison mumbled.
“I’ll get her pillow and blanket from her room,” Esme said.
“I don’t deserve muffins,” Madison said, turning onto her good side and cradling her cast. “I caused so much trouble.”
Esme appeared with the pillow. I lifted Madison slightly so she could slide it under the child’s head.
“Sweet Pea, it was an accident.” I brushed hair off Madison’s forehead. “It wasn’t like you meant to cause trouble.”
“But I cost so much money.” A lone teardrop traveled down her dewy cheek.
Esme sat heavily on the coffee table. “Baby, don’t worry about money. That’s for adults to figure out.”
“But I heard you on the phone with the lady. Ten thousand dollars is a lot.”
“That’s not your fault,” Esme said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Madison’s chin wobbled. “I just wanted to make it to the top.”
“And you did,” I said. “Sometimes things happen. But you’re going to be fine and so is your mom.”
“Can I have a muffin now?” Madison asked, sniffing.
I hustled into the kitchen and brought her back a muffin on a small plate and a glass of milk. She ate slowly, eyes already drooping again. She was asleep two minutes later, muffin half-eaten and crumbs on her chin.
“How about you, young lady?” I asked Esme as I took the plate back to the kitchen. “Can I fix you a muffin before your nap?”
Esme shook her head. “I just need to sleep.”
“Go rest. I’ll keep an eye on Madison.”
She surprised me by giving me a hug, resting her head on my chest for a moment. “Just like a Grady does.”