Page 116 of Off the Mark
“Did you sleep here last night?”
I blearily opened my eyes—it took me a second to realize it was a) morning and b) I’d crashed on my grandmother’s couch. Which explained why my entire body felt like crumpled-up death—it was a foot too short for my legs.
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna wake you,” I grumbled. “It was late, and you were sound asleep.”
My grandmother clicked her tongue and placed her hand on my forehead the way she used to when I was sick. “Are you all right, dear?”
I pushed myself to sit, knocking off all the pillows in the process. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was out late last night at this event with Charlie”—my stomach pitched like I was seasick— “and when I got back to my place, it felt a little lonely. Want me to make us a pot of coffee before I go into work?”
I swung my sore legs to the floor with a wince. She sat next to me on the couch, still in her bathrobe, and fixed me with a stare. “No need. Dean’s coming by in a minute with coffee and that breakfast casserole Midge makes so well.”
“Oh yeah? That’s nice of him.”
“It’sforyou,” she said. “The whole block is talking about it.”
A chill raced down my spine. Someone probably overheard my argument with Charlie last night or saw me walking home looking like Charlie Brown post-football, and now half of South Philly was gonna think we broke up.
Faking relationships is easy.
When I’d finally fallen into a restless sleep, my dreams had been fractured and weird and full of Charlie.
“Talking about what?” I asked.
My grandmother wrapped her arms around my side. “Your new job beingofficial. My grandson, the executive director.”
It took me a moment to remember I’d shared the good news with Alice and Dean before heading to the gala. “Right,right. I got a new gig. Kind of a big deal too.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said proudly. “Oh, I can’twaitto tell everyone at church on Sunday.”
I grinned. “You mean brag.”
“Yes, I do.”
I went to stand but she stopped me with her hand. “Itisa big deal, Rowan. The whole neighborhood is talking about it because we’re so proud of you.”
I rubbed the space between my shoulder blades and felt the rigid tension there. But beneath everything that had happened after our argument, there was still the conversation I had with the Wilkinsons that felt like a legit victory. There was that sense that I was suddenly in the right place, at the right time, with the right—new—job.
“I’m happy. Beyond happy. And I think mom and dad would be too,” I said.
She beamed. “Having a career that includes major league baseball as well as directing a nonprofit is quite the accomplishment, dear. There’s no doubt they’d be as happy for you as I am. Which is saying something, because I’m over the moon.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said. “At first, I was so sure I was the absolute wrong guy—inexperienced, too much of an amateur. But now I can’t picture doing anything but this.”
She patted my knee softly. “Taking risks feels like too much of a gamble when you’ve already lost so much. But even after losing your parents, you never stopped living—though I know so much of it can be scary. It certainly has been for me sometimes. Your momandyour dad were two people who embraced change with wide-open arms. They were…” Her voice caught. “They were extraordinary together. Just like you.”
Charlie had said the same thing last night.
Her face softened as she examined the picture I’d been looking at—the honeymoon trip photo, where my parents were posed on the hood of their car with the Grand Canyon behind them.
She took it from the coffee table and smoothed the edges down. “You always did love this picture. Used to carry it around with you instead of a stuffed animal sometimes.”
My throat felt too raw, so I dropped my head to her shoulder instead.
“The summer months are hard on you too,” she murmured. “I forget that sometimes. You do such a nice job of making sure that I’m okay that I sometimes forget to do the same for you.”
“I’m missing them a lot lately,” I said simply.
“Me too. Every day.”
