Page 193 of Never Let You Go

“Come on, Uncle George, bottoms up,” Justin says. I jerk my head at him. Ironically enough for a bar owner, Justin is usually the last person to encourage any drinking. His eyes are fixed on George.

George, who needs liquid courage to say something. Something that involves us, since we’re seated together.

What is Barbara up to? Should I be worried?

“What’s going on?” Christopher groans under his breath to Justin. I’m nudged against him, that’s how I hear.

“No fucking idea,” Justin mutters back.

“Oh for Chrissakes!” Barbara says. She downs her bourbon and slams the empty glass down. “Uncle George is Jerry. Your grandfather,” she says to me. “There.”

My jaw slackens. Christopher’s arm tightens around my shoulders as he pushes the glass of bourbon my way.

George clears his throat. “Thank you for the nudge, Barbara.” His voice is still soft, a contrast to Barbara’s nervous outburst.

Her statement wasn’t exactly full of tact, definitely not a nudge, but at least it’s out.

George lifts his clear blue eyes to me, and quickly they mist over. “I am your mother’s father.” With a trembling hand, he pulls out a worn leather wallet from his back pocket, shifts through the compartments, and produces a plastic sleeve protecting the photo of a baby.

“Rita sent me this. And then, nothing.” His voice breaks, and Barbara reaches out to pat his forearm.

I turn the photo in my fingers. It’s a baby. It could be any baby. I know it’s my mother, but strangely, I don’t feel like this is my drama to contend with. It’s his, and I can help him get through this.

I hand him the photo back.

“She passed,” he says it as a statement of fact. A regret. Barbara twitches in her chair.

“A long time ago,” I say. I feel his guilt, his regrets, and they’re weighing him down. Where’s the fun man I heard in the background of phone conversations with Barbara?

Christopher’s hand traces soothing circles on my back. “You don’t have to do this now,” he says for my benefit, but loud enough that everyone can hear.

This, his support, his understanding, is all I need in life. Nothing can affect me with him in my life. “It’s fine,” I tell him.

I have everything I want and need.

A man who understands me. Friends. A real family, one forged in love.

George should have the same. And Barbara.

“We can’t fix the past, but we can design our future.” I raise my glass toward Jerry slash Uncle George slash Not Ready To Call Him Grandpa Yet.

“Holy fucking shit, Bambi! That was profound.” Kiara plops onto an empty seat and takes my glass from me. “Why the gloomy faces?” she asks, suddenly tuning into the atmosphere around the table. “You guys should try my whoopie pies!”

Justin jumps in. “Uncle George here, turns out to be Alex’s grandfather.”

“That’s cool,” Kiara says, unfazed. “So you guys are cousins. Nice. Now can we all put some smiles on our faces and have some fun like the big happy family we are?”

And just like that, the evening lightens up.

fifty-nine

Alexandra

Three months later

"Pancakes! Ready to go?” Christopher pulls my back to his front and kisses my nape. Shivers of pleasure roll through me, and I drop my head against his strong shoulder. I’d rather stay at home this afternoon. Be lazy. Sneak in a quicky while Skye has a playdate.

But it’s a beautiful fall day, and Christopher is excited to show me all that Vermont has to offer during this glorious season. We’ve been on hayrides and gone apple picking, taken bike tours and had cider tastings. Today, he wants to go for a picnic.

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