Page 90 of It's Always Us

“Did you really just say that?”

I see his wrinkled mouth try to hide a smug grin, wanting to get me riled up. After our little moment passes, his serious tone takes over. “Pal, you’ve got two babies coming who need a mom and a dad.”

This stubborn, hard-ass old man is sensible.What the hellis happening to my life?“What about my job and the garage?”

“I’m thinking about selling to Slade.” He says it. Just like that. “And before you get your panties in a twist, listen.” He pulls his glasses off and sets them on his leg. “Pal, this shop isn’t meant to be the rest of your life. It was your beginning.” He pauses. “I know you love to work on cars, but you’re too good to be stuck there. I know you think you can’t work anywhere else, but you’re limiting yourself. Anyone would see your work and hire you on the spot. I’ve let you think otherwise for too long.”

I look at my grandpa. Rough and tough and hardened by life. “I don’t know if I can just give it all up and hope this will all work out.”

He nods, understanding. “You’re not her, and he’s not your dad or any of those men. That young man has been in love with you since day one. I saw it then, and he’s even more in love with you now. My eyes may be old and worn, but I see that clear as day.” He shifts in his chair. “Can you really live and do all this without him?”

This joker knows I can’t, and I kind of want to be mad at him for pointing it out and making it sound really that easy.

He blows out a breath. “You can work on cars anywhere in any fashion you want, but I think . . . the rest of your life will be pretty full of something so much better and more fulfilling.”

The tears in his eyes get to me. I’m up and reaching for him, hugging him tight.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, Grandpa.”

“I love you, too.”

I release him and move back to my spot on the couch. “I’m going with him to the awards and the game.”

“You shit. Where’s my ticket?”

I smile. “Maybe next year.”

“Ha. I might be dead by then.”

“Not your ornery ass.”

He puts his glasses back on, focusing his attention back on the TV. “Did you tell him?”

My body stiffens, and I know exactly what he’s asking. All the cereal turns into a giant rock, sinking to the bottom of my stomach. “No.”

“What you did matters.”

I inhale and push it out. “I don’t know. I’m not sure anything good will come of it.”

Grandpa hits that power button on the remote and stands. “That will bite you in the ass. I’d think long and hard about it.”

Like I haven’t for the last eight years.

“I’m going to bed. I could use you at the shop in the morning for some light stuff.”

I nod, wanting to push thoughts of what he said out of my mind, but they linger there with bright red warning lights.

I climb the stairs and peel my clothes off, knowing I have some major shopping to do. I hate shopping, but Krissy doesn’t, so she’ll make it tolerable. I shower and pull the sheet back to slide into bed, where I find a folded Liberties shirt. One I saw Mark wear.

I take my shirt off, tug his on, and then FaceTime him.

“Hey, baby.” His beautiful, handsome face fills my screen. He’s sitting in his bed in Manhattan, and I’m in mine. “Nice shirt.”

“I like it.” I lift the soft cotton material to my nose and inhale. “It smells like you.”

“How’d it go tonight?”

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