Page 20 of Beauty and the Grease
“No. Here. This retreat.”
“I need to save my job.” He says the last part in a hush, looking over his shoulder.
“That, right there. The looking over your shoulder. The door is closed.”
“I knew that.”
“And the thousand yard stare when a sales bro describes the difference between a yacht and a superyacht. You know they’re all just boats, right?”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “I know this isn’t your scene, so thank you for sticking around.”
Not an answer. “But why areyouhere? With them? You clearly dislike it.”
“No, I don’t—well, okay, the retreat is not where I’m interested in spending time. That’s fair. But I have to. I told you already.”
“Where would you rather be?”
“Home. Out with the kids somewhere, if they’re not embarrassed by me.” He laughs softly. “This is the cost of providing for them.”
“You have to be employed, but does it have to be with them?” I keep my voice down too—you never know who might be lurking in the bushes. “They’re awful, Chase. That guy and his daughter with the softball scholarship they turned down? All I could think for ten minutes straight was whether anyone asked his daughter if she wanted to go to school in Ohio. And if she still plays softball, even for fun, does she hide it from her family?”
“You don’t even know her.”
“Look, I have a vivid imagination. You were trying to have a totally different conversation than that guy and it shows. He was dismissive of his own daughter’s talent and about you talking about your kids. I just don’t understand how…”
“How what?”
“How you put up with these people!”
“It’s myjob.”
He’s not getting it. “You think this life fits you, but it doesn’t.”
“Says the fashionista artist who runs a repair shop.”
“I dressed the part back then because I thought I had to.” To fit in. To be accepted by his family, which I never was. “I love my shop. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“It wasn’t an insult. You’re talented. But telling me I don’t fit in where I am when you’ve totally flipped your life around?” He squares his shoulders. “You don’t know me.”
My breath stalls. He’s right. Seventeen years is a long time.
But tonight with his arms around me—Idoknow Chase. I know his true self. I’ve seen glimpses of it all day. “This job will ground out the spirit you have left. Maybe you’ll be giving rotten advice about avoiding kids’ sports in a few years’ time. You’ll be that dreadful old man judging people’s personal lives and it will happen without you even realizing it.”
He scoffs. “I make a good income. My family needs it.”
“Your kids needyou.” Right away I know I’ve overstepped.
Chase’s face darkens. “You’re giving me parenting advice?”
The sting of regret hits instantly. “I’d never dream of it. What I meant was to giveyouadvice. Chase, this job is sucking your soul dry. You don’t need to impress those people in there. You’re better than this. Better than them.”
He walks a few paces to the edge of the patio, staring across the grounds to the dark lake beyond.
“You played by their rules,” I say, softer. “You did all the things they asked. Are you happy?”
He shifts, not facing me directly. “Thank you for joining me tonight. Time to turn in.” He pauses at the door. “Thanks for…everything. Good night.”
CHAPTER 10
