Page 57 of The Other Half

Chapter 44

Oakley

Most of the ride there we’re silent, I expect her to give me more of an explanation but it never comes. She seems to be deep in thought so I don’t bother her, instead I stare out the window at the countryside as we pass by. The leaves have all fallen off the trees, and the mountains are a dull brown color. I love the winter when it snows, but on a dreary day like this one winter is just depressing.

We arrive at Gran’s around dinner time, and I walk in to the smell of something delicious wafting from her kitchen. She’s always been an amazing cook so it isn’t a surprise. I look around at her house which is always like a snapshot frozen in time, she’s hardly changed anything in here since I was a young girl. Everything about her house fills me with comfort.

The furniture and decor is still very eighties, with floral wallpaper and shag carpet. There are family photos hung up on every wall of my mom and I, along with ones of my cousins, and a few of her and my grandpa. Grandpa passed away when I was only three, so I don’t remember him very well, but she always told me he was the man of her dreams, and that she hoped I’d find a love like theirs one day.

“Hi, girls,” Gran says, rushing into her doorway with open arms to give us a hug. Even though she’s in her seventies she’s still a beautiful woman, with long, silver-gray hair and smile lines. I think I look a little bit more like her than I do my mom.

She leads us into the kitchen and offers us both a plate of food. My mom declines but I gladly accept one. I haven’t eaten yet today, and it’s been so long since I had a real home cooked meal. My mom disappears into another room, I assume to unpack our things.

“You look so pretty and grown up, Oakie.” I smile at the silly nickname that she gave me when I was a baby.

“Thanks, Gran.”

“I’m very glad that you’re here,” she says in a more serious tone as she gives me a sympathetic smile. I notice her studying the bruise on my eye and it makes me self-conscious. I wonder how much my mom has divulged to her.

I don’t think my grandma and my dad ever really got along to begin with, but in the past ten years or so their animosity for each other has only grown stronger. Any time my mom would suggest visiting Gran, my dad would shut down the idea immediately, claiming that we don’t have time or we have more important things to do. I know that Gran has always silently hoped that my mom would leave him.

“I am too, I’ve missed you,” I say before taking another bite of meatloaf.

“We’re going to have a good Christmas together,” she promises. “I’m going to go see if your mom needs any help settling in.”

She walks off and leaves me to finish my dinner. I pull my phone out. There isn’t great reception here at Gran’s house, it’s sort of out in the sticks, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to text anyone unless I travel into town. It’s a lot more rural here than where we live. Although Poplar Valley is considered rural too, we still have little suburban neighborhoods with tightly packed houses. Out here the closest neighbor is probably half a mile down the road.

I mindlessly scroll through my messages from earlier. I never replied to Oliver, and I feel kind of guilty for it, but I have no clue what there is to say. He’s gone from disliking me, to liking me, to loving me, to hating me, and now he’s acting like he cares about me again. It’s extremely confusing and I don’t know if I can handle the stress of it right now on top of everything else that’s going on.

My mom walks in the room by herself, still looking more frazzled than usual but not as bad as she was earlier. Her face looks sad and wistful. “Are you okay, darling?” she asks.

I nod. I think she knows I’m pretty far from okay at this point.

“I want you to know… your dad, he’s going through a lot right now. There are things that we don’t tell you about that stress him out.”

Is she serious? She’s back to covering for him?

I don’t say anything. But she continues, “He’s nervous about what might happen at work. There’s a big lawsuit coming out against the factory.”

“A lawsuit? Why?”

“Well, some employees and former employees have come forward and accused the mill of causing their health problems.”

I haven’t heard anything about this, but there’s always been suspicion among our town that the toxic fumes the mill spews out every day could be bad for us. I’m sure if you’re inside the building it would be much worse.

“What kind of health problems?”

“Lung cancer, specifically.”

My mind immediately makes the connection, Oliver’s dad might have cancer because he worked at the mill. I feel sick, like all of the meatloaf I just ate is about to come back up. I already know how it’ll play out, the corporate executives will figure out a way to get out of this, and those families won’t get any compensation. God, I hope I’m wrong, but I just can’t imagine it going the way it should.

“I’m not telling you this because it’s an excuse for his behavior. There is no excuse for it. I just want you to know that there’s been a lot of stress on both of us leading up to this.”

I nod my head, only halfway interested in what she’s saying. Right now I’m more focused on the fact that his dad is going to die because of a factory that ended up laying him off.

“So, we’re getting a divorce.”

That snaps me back into the moment. “What? You are?”

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