Page 79 of The Lonely Hearts Book Club

“Is that him?” Wayne asked. “Chains? Bricks? He doesn’t sound so good.”

I couldn’t help laughing. Wayne might not have caught the Poe reference, but I did.

“Don’t worry. He’s going to live.” I locked eyes with my grandfather’s. They were like a reflection of my mom’s—the same gray color, the same steely flash of determination—but without a fraction of her warmth. “If I accomplish nothing else while I’m here, I can at least do that much.”

Wayne had no way of knowing what I was talking about, but he knew enough about my situation to accept my words at face value. I felt like an ass for leaving him hanging, but he was used to it by now. Unsurprisingly, the past few years had been pretty touch and go in terms of employment. When my mom had first gotten sick, I’d gone down to part-time hours so I could move in with her and take on as much of her care as possible; toward the end, I’d been on full family leave. It was only recently that I’d started to get back in the swing of things.

And then…this. A late-night call from the hospital. The burden of a promise I’d made my mom weighing heavily on my shoulders. A group of unexpectedly friendly strangers offering to share that burden with me.

“Well?” my grandfather said as I hung up the phone and tucked it back in my pocket. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

“That depends. Are you going to apologize for what you said yesterday?”

He set his jaw. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Hannah was my daughter long before she became your mother.”

Since he’d already carved out a hollow in my chest, his words didn’t have nearly the impact he’d hoped.

“Yes, and we both know how well you used the time you had together.” I felt proud of the way my voice didn’t waver. “But I wasn’t talking about an apology for me. I meant forthem.”

He couldn’t pretend to misunderstand me. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

I kept my mouth shut.

“Dammit, Greg. You’ve been here long enough by now. You’ve seen them. You know I’m right.”

It was true. I did. But the difference between me and my grandfather was that I’d never use that knowledge to hurt anyone.

He drew an irritated breath and kept going. “I stand by all of it, you hear? Every single word. Maisey is suffering from the same growing pains every mother feels at that age, only she’s so bored and lonely over there that she can’t see a way out of it. Mateo is shuffling through careers he doesn’t give two licks about, and all because he doesn’t want to give his mother the satisfaction of seeing him follow in her footsteps. And Sloane…”

I didn’t move, not even to breathe. From the way my grandfather’s voice started to vibrate, I could tell we’d reached the real heart of the matter—and the real matter of the heart.

“She’s only marrying that man because he’s offering her the easy way out. He has money and a roof over his head and a built-in family she doesn’t have to work to earn.”

All of those sounded like perfectly reasonable—if dry—reasons to marry someone, but it was obvious my grandfather felt differently.

“She doesn’t know what she’s worth. She doesn’t think she can do anything better with her life.” He threw his copy ofThe Joy Luck Clubacross the room. It hit the opposite wall with a thud. “But she can, by God. She can and shewill.”

To my surprise, my grandfather suddenly started crumpling into a heap. Leaping up from the bed, I had my arms around him before either of us knew what was happening. The fact that he didn’t fight me was bad enough—that he actually let out a sound almost like a sob as I held him was even worse. He felt much more fragile than his size seemed to indicate, as though his body was just a projection to distract from the real man inside.

I was debating between calling Mateo and 911 when he took the decision out of my hands.

“Did she really ask you to come here?” he asked, and in so quiet a voice I almost had to put my ear to his lips to hear him. “It was her idea?”

“Yes,” I said, my own voice low and tight. I didn’t have to ask him to explain. I knew very well that we weren’t talking about Sloane anymore. “It’s the only reason I came, and the only reason I’m still here now. If it had been left up to me, I’d have buried you alongside her.”

I expected a series of follow-up questions, but he merely nodded and closed his eyes, his whole body sagging into the couch.

“Do you need anything?” I asked as I continued examining his face, looking for any of the signs Mateo had warned me about. I didn’t see anything to alarm me. His lips were just as pink as they usually were, and although he looked pale, his skin wasn’t clammy or cold. “Something to drink, maybe, or—”

“I’m fine.”

That was all he said—just two words, two syllables—but it was enough to lay my fears to temporary rest. He was fine. I was fine. We weren’t good and we weren’t whole, but we were getting by.

For now.

***

A few days later, I paced the length of my grandfather’s kitchen, my long steps eating up the linoleum and spitting it back out again.