Page 24 of Perfect Pact

“My grandfather drank every night, but that evening, he had more than normal and passed out on the couch. My grandmother was furious—especially since she had been asking him to change a light bulb over the sink so she could do dishes. He forgot.”

My eyes never leave Beth’s as she listens.

“She tried to wake him, but he wouldn’t budge, so she scooted over a chair and tried to do it herself. My grandmother was a little vertically challenged.”

“Short,” Beth corrects. “It’s okay. I know the feeling.” She flashes me a smile as she points to herself. “I’m only five-foot-three. I get it.”

She’s perfect.Focus!

“I’m sorry I distracted you.” She nudges my shoulder. “She was about to change the lightbulb.”

“Yeah, that. Um—she didn’t get to it because the chair had a wobbly leg from where my grandfather had tripped over it earlier in the evening when he was stumbling around the kitchen. The leg gave, and she fell.”

“Oh God!” Beth’s hand flies up to her mouth.

“She hit her head on the kitchen sink. My grandfather didn’t find her until it was too late.”

“No…” Beth shakes her head back and forth as silent tears start to fall. “Mr. Jacobs had to feel so guilty.”

“It consumed him and destroyed our family.”

She places her small palm over mine, and I fight the urge to pull her into my lap and take comfort in her kindness. I hadn’t thought about this in so long, about what it had done to our family. What it cost us all. But she isn’t ready for that. And when I take her in my arms, I want her to be willing. So, I settle for holding her hand for as long as it takes.

She doesn’t say a word. She just listens. So I continue.

“My father never forgave him, and my grandfather couldn’t live with himself. He didn’t just lose his wife that night, he lost my dad.”

“But he still let you visit?”

“Only because my mom made him. When we were around, the drinking seemed to stop, or so we thought. When I drove that four-wheeler into the pond, my mom was the one to go off then. Even though my grandfather wasn’t around, she blamed him. Told him to sober up or he wouldn’t be able to see me and Lance.”

“That had to scare the crap out of him.”

“It did, but the trust had already been broken. My parents moved us to St. Louis, and the rest is history.”

“You never came back?”

“No, we did. For a week or two during the summers. Lance stopped visiting when he got his first girlfriend, and I stopped the summer before my freshman year.”

“Why?” she asks. The answer is so simple yet so complex.

“That’s the million-dollar question. I was busy. I had friends, a girlfriend, played sports…I didn’t have the time.”

“I hope my kids never think of me like that.” The words are out of her mouth before she realizes what she says, and her eyes go wide. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I swear, Dusty. I just mean…”

“Trust me. I get it. There isn’t a day since his death that I haven’t regretted not visiting. I emailed him. I even called every now and then, but I always had an excuse when it came to visiting.”

“He used to talk about you.”

“He did?”

I don’t know why I’m so shocked. We had a great relationship when I was a kid. I adored my grandfather.

“Yep. He loved his squirt.”

“Oh my gosh. That’s a nickname for the ages.” We both chuckle.

“Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” I finish off my beer and set it on the table beside me.

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