Page 132 of Tell Me It’s Right

“Sometimes grown-ups mess up too.”

“Ow! Freezy-head.” He smacks his hand against his forehead, his spoon sticking out of his mouth.

I chuckle and pull it out. “Yeah, doofus, you can’t eat it all at once.”

Undeterred, after a few seconds, he resumes shoveling it in his mouth.

I lean back against the bench and look out at the waves. The beach is quiet with only a few people lying out on towels. There’s a girl a few yards away on her front with her book propped in the sand.

My stomach twists at the sight, and I check my watch. Gracie and I are supposed to FaceTime in an hour. She’s only been gone a week, but her absence is already glaringly obvious.

It was obvious when I swung by Milano’s and had to correct the barista that I was ordering only one coffee. It was obvious when I opened the shop and the front desk was empty and there was no bike out front. It was obvious every time I looked up from work, expecting to see her smile or a flash of her hair.

I’m trying to give her space to grow into this new phase of her life, but all I want to do is jump in the car and drive out there so I can see her face light up about how amazing her new job is in person.

At least I know she hasn’t been alone all week. Her parents went up to visit her one day, and she was telling me about her plans to get lunch with her friend Carson this weekend. And I’m sure Leo’s itching to get back up there too.

Still no word from Christine though, so it’s looking like I won’t even be able to make our call. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.

Casey and I head back into the arcade once we’ve finished our water ice. We do a lap and try every game he can reach—most of them are too big for him—then he starts pointing outwhich ones he wants me to do to win more tickets. I dutifully play the basketball, Whac-A-Mole, and Skee-Ball machines until he’s able to afford the ugliest stuffed sea lion I’ve ever seen. Its eyes are tiny, and the stringy white whiskers are…something else. But Casey jumps up and down with excitement as the worker behind the counter hands it over, then clutches it to his chest like it’s now his most prized possession.

By the time Christine texts me, it’s dark outside, and she comes to meet us at the arcade to pick Casey up.

“Thank you again, truly.” She sighs as she helps Casey into his car seat, his eyes already half-closed. I’m pretty sure he passes out before she closes the door behind him, that sea lion tucked tightly beneath his chin.

“It was no problem.” I turn for my truck, but she stops me.

“Liam…”

I tuck my hands in my pockets and wait.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again, about how the whole thing with Hailey and True Sweets went down.”

I wave her off. “Don’t worry about it?—”

“No, no, I do. Especially after what Asher told me. I tried to talk them out of moving forward with her after that meeting, but as you can probably imagine, my vote didn’t get too far.”

I shake my head, not sure I heard her right. What could Asher possibly have told her? “Asher?”

Her eyes flick between mine, and her brow furrows. “He said…well, he said she was pretty abusive.”

I rock back on my heels. Inevertalked to Asher about Hailey.

She gives me a small smile. “I think he’s more observant than people give him credit for.”

I glance at Casey through the window. His head is lolled back and mouth wide open as he sleeps.

Christine sighs. “Look, Liam, I know you don’t like me, so my opinion won’t count for much, but?—”

My eyes snap back to her. “That’s not true.”

She raises a single eyebrow.

“Okay, so itwastrue. I didn’t like you at first. But I didn’t know you. And it had a lot more to do with my dad than you.”

She smirks. “My point is, my mom had me when she was a teenager, and my dad left before my first birthday. My grandparents on both sides have pretended I don’t exist all my life. And when I left home at sixteen, my mom didn’t even try to stop me. So shitty families? I get it.”

I stare at her for a second, the image I’d had of her all this time crumbling. Her sunny disposition, always smiling, always jumping in to help—always trying a little too hard, if you asked me. The clothes and the parties and the way she never seemed to have a care in the world. I guess I assumed she’d always been that way.

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