Page 71 of Hold on Tight

She handed the phone to Sam.

“Grampy! We’re going to Oregon.”

It was one of those slow-unfolding-disaster moments. She reached for the phone and put her finger to her lips to shush Sam, but there was no averting this one.

“With Jake! To meet my aunt and uncle and other grandmother!”

She could hear her father’s voice, but not what he was saying, and then Sam said, “He’s here. He slept—”

She snatched the phone back, Sam protesting.

“Dad—”

“Was he about to tell me Jake slept over?”

She sucked her breath in sharply. Jake was watching the whole thing, creases deepening between his brows. She grimaced.I know.

“Mommy? Can I have the phone back? Why’d you grab it?”

“Don’t lie to me, Mira.”

“Dad, calm down.”

“I willnotcalm down. We had a conversation about this. I told you what a bad idea I thought this was. I told you all the ways I thought this could end badly for you and Sam. Are yousleepingwith him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Mommy?”

“Mira, what are youthinking? I was there last time. I watched it all play out. You got your heart broken. You got left holding the bag in the most serious of ways. You can’t trust him not to hurt you again like that.”

“Dad,stop. I’m a grown woman. I can run my own life.”

“Mira, this isn’t just your life. This is Sam’s life, too, and I can’t just stand by and let you—”

“Hey, Dad? We have to hit the road. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she told her father, and hit “End.”

“Mommy, I wanted to talk to Grampy!”

“We’ll call him back tomorrow.” She racked her brain for a distraction. “Sam, did you want to bring some of your cars with you? There are Legos at the beach house. You can get a big Ziploc out of the kitchen drawer and fill it up.”

When Sam had raced downstairs, Jake said, “That didn’t look like fun.”

“Not fun.”

“He’s not my biggest fan.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No.”

“You okay?”

“I just wish—I wish he’d give me some credit for knowing my own mind and being able to take care of myself.”

He reached out and put his arms around her. She leaned against him and let the heat and comfort of his body soak into hers. He bent his head and touched his lips to her hair, his breath warm against her scalp. She loved that he didn’t try to argue with her or say that her dad probably gave her more credit than she knew. He just let her have the moment. Once, a long time ago, he had been the easiest person in the world to talk to, and all the things that had bothered her had come unknotted. He could still do it, could still work her emotions loose.

“Hey,” he asked. “Can I ask you a favor? Can I drive down to the beach?”

“Why?”

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