Page 99 of Delay of Game
I nodded. “A change in behavior?”
“At the very least.” He stood up, water dripping off him as he stepped out of the tub. “Personally, I wouldn’t talk to her until you figure your shit out. You’ve jerked her around enough.”
I handed him a towel and saw myself out, navigating back through the gym to the parking garage. Mom sent a picture from the children’s museum, letting me know they’d be back after dinner. I swiped to my texts, reading through the list of ‘manifestos’, as Astrid had called them. My body hurt just thinking about her, but Ethan was right. My apology didn’t mean shit without action behind it.
THIRTY-FIVE
GRACIE
A late nightof cleaning left my body exhausted and my eyes bloodshot. I hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep before my alarm went off and I’d groggily driven to the airport to pick up my parents. Now, I struggled to stay away while my parents inspected the house.
“Well, kiddo.” Dad walked back into the living room, hands in his pockets. “What the hell am I supposed to do for the next ten days?”
I smiled, standing up. “Does it look okay?”
“It looks amazing. How did you pull all this off?” He patted my back. “No offense, but this place was a bit worn down last time I saw it.”
“I had some help.” I bit back a wince, the soft ache of longing in my chest bubbling to the surface at the thought of Rob.
“It looks great, sweetie.” Mom glided in on a cloud of perfume in warmth, pulling me into an all-encompassing hug that made me feel like a kid again. “I am amazed.”
She pulled away, and my parents shared a relieved look.
“She was just telling me about her help,” Dad said.
“Help?” Mom reared on me. “You didn’t pay anyone, right? Because that can come out of the escrow. I don’t want you using your money?—”
“Just a friend, Mom,” I interrupted her before she launched into a diatribe about my finances. An unnecessary one, considering I had recently been apartment shopping. “He didn’t charge me anything.”
“A friend?” she drawled, eyebrows raised. “What kind of friend?”
The kind of friend who didn’t want to date me. The kind of friend who wasn’t around anymore.
“His mom is friends with Aunt Mercy. He did me a favor.” I bit my lip, stopping myself from saying anything else revealing. Besides an email from the Norwalk Breakers PR department sending over three tickets for the game next week, I hadn’t heard from Rob. My chest hadn’t unclenched since that night outside the Crown & Copper.
Mom’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Leave her be,” Dad warned under his breath.
“Well, that’s still nice of him,” Mom said.
Dad cleared his throat. “I’ll text the realtor, see if they can come by Monday to take pictures. We should be able to clear out the rest of Aunt Mercy’s stuff by then.”
“And speaking of Aunt Mercy, do you think she’ll be up for a visit?” My mom’s pine green eyes turned glassy. “I’d really love to see her.”
I nodded. They hadn’t even unpacked, but visiting Aunt Mercy would keep my mind off of Rob. And I’d take just about any distraction.
“Sure.” I forced a smile. “I’ll grab my keys.”
I drove the long way to the memory care facility, avoiding Rob’s house and stopping by June’s diner to pick up lunch. Dad, a true New England Yankee, wrinkled his nose at Southernfare, upset that meat and three restaurants considered mac and cheese a vegetable along with deep fried everything else. He consoled himself with a double serving of baked chicken while Mom ordered enough food to feed us three times over.
We pulled into Aunt Mercy’s just past noon. Early in the day, but I still crossed my fingers and made a quiet wish that she was having a lucid day.
“This is nice.” Dad whistled under his breath as he craned his neck to look up at the building.
“They’ve got a garden out back and the staff are great. She’s been really happy here.” I emphasized the last point, glancing at Mom through the rearview mirror.
Her shoulders bunched and her mouth turned into a thin line. Nervous energy radiated off her body and I could practically hear her internal monologue asking whether she’d made the right choice to move Aunt Mercy into the facility. The same one that’d run on a loop in my head the first few weeks after she’d moved.
