Authors: Rachael Brownell
When she pushes through my front door just after eight, I’m immediately nervous. I have no idea what she’s going to say when I tell her what happened. She’s completely forgotten about the bracelet up to this point, but that may not last much longer. Grant and I decided on a story last night in case Libby ever decided to ask him about it.
“So, tell me everything,” Libby hollers from the kitchen as she grabs a water from the fridge.
“About what?”
“Seriously. You promised you’d tell me if I came over. Start talking,” she demands, plopping down on the couch next to me, taking a sip of her water. When I don’t start talking right away, she rolls her eyes at me, placing her water bottle on the table. “Fine. I’ll ask you questions then. First, how was it?”
“It was good, I-I think,” I stutter, unsure of my answer.
“It gets better. The first time is always the worst. It’s just weird. Did he use protection?”
“Of course!”
“Good. I didn’t want to have to break his arm. How do you feel about it now?” She’s watching my every move as she probes me for answers, so I’m trying not to fidget.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you guys talked about it? Are you going to do it again or was it an oops?”
I don’t want to tell her that it’s happened again since that first night. “I think we’re on the same page. Things are good.”
Raising an eyebrow suspiciously at me, Libby lets me get away with my answer. “I’m sure they are. So, what’s the deal with the bracelet then?”
Ugh! “It’s a joke. He found it when I was moving and I told him about a friend I had a long time ago who gave it to me,” I say, twisting my wrist with the bracelet tied to it, “but I couldn’t remember her name. I said that it didn’t mean much if I couldn’t even remember the name of the person who gave it to me. He was pouting because no one ever gave him one, making fun of me, so I gave it to him.”
“No offense, but that’s kind of lame. He could have at least bought you something, too,” Libby says, taking another sip of water before relaxing back into the couch.
“He could have, but it wouldn’t have meant as much. I guess you had to be there to understand,” I try to explain.
She nods her head, accepting the lie I just told her as the truth. She’s right, it is a stupid story, but it was the best we could come up with on short notice. It seems to have done the job it was intended to do, so I’m not worried about it.
After trying for an hour to get details out of me, Libby finally leaves with as little information as I could get away with giving her. I turn in for the night, exhausted from her barrage of questions. Lying in bed, I twist the bracelet around and around on my wrist, admiring the real sentiment it stands for. I never would have thought that he kept it all these years. A few worn out pieces of string, braided and tied together, stand for more than I can even begin to explain. It’s as if the story of our lives are weaved together in a pattern similar to those in the bracelet. A story that started long ago.
As I start to fall asleep, I think back on the day that I gave it to him. It was a sad day, but from that day a love has grown and blossomed. There are so many different directions in which our lives could have gone, but somehow we ended up here, together. For that, I will forever be thankful.
“Are you ready to go, Madison?” I can hear Grandma hollering for me from the porch, but I pretend not to hear her. I want a few more minutes with Joshua.
“You better get going. That’s the second time she’s called for you.”
“I’d rather stay here. I don’t want to go to the beach. When I get back you might not be here.” Pouting as I say the words, I hold back the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes.
“I’ll be here. I promise,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“Madison. We have to go. Please,” Grandma yells again.
“Go. I’ll see you soon.”
I stare at Joshua for a minute, trying to memorize his face. His hazel eyes are sparkling in the morning light as he stares at me, doing the same I imagine. The only thing I can think to say is goodbye, and I can’t bring myself to say that. I won’t.
Kissing me softly on the lips, Joshua stands and helps me up. We walk back to the house silently, hand in hand. Grandma is waiting on the porch for me. I expect her to be upset or irritated, but she’s none of those things, judging by the smile on her face.
“We have to get on the road, Madison.” Turning her attention to Joshua she says, “Your mother is waiting for you in the den.”
Following Grandma into the house, Joshua finally lets go of my hand as we reach the front door. With a wink and a wave, he slowly walks away, looking over his shoulder a few times. I hold the tears at bay until I’m in the car, safely out of sight. Staring at the house as Grandma backs out of the driveway, I spot Joshua in the window of the den. My eyes remain locked on his until I can’t see him anymore.
“He’ll be here when we get back, Madison.”
My head snaps to Grandma as her words register. “Really?”
“I wanted to tell you before we left, but I couldn’t. His mother needs to be the one to explain everything to him right now. It’s going to be a big change for the both of them. By the time we get back, they’ll be settled into their new life. I need for you to understand something, though.” She has my undivided attention, but pauses, taking a deep breath before she continues. “His name will no longer be Joshua. You can’t call him that anymore. This will be an adjustment for you, too.”
When Grandma glances in my direction, I nod my head letting her know that I understand what she’s trying to tell me. We ride in silence the rest of the way to the beach. I focus on all the things I want to show him in New Bern when I return. I’ll only have a few days before my father comes to pick me up. Joshua and I … Wait. He won’t be Joshua anymore.
“Grandma, can I ask you a question?”
“What’s on your mind, sweetie?”
“What will his name be when we get back?”
“I believe his mother decided on Grant. Grant Fisher.”
After spending another amazing weekend with me, Grant has to head home for dinner with his mom on Sunday night. The only problem is that his truck won’t start. Nervous about seeing Lucy, my palms begin to sweat the closer and closer we get to Grant’s house. Pulling in the driveway, my heart starts to race. I’m about to have a full-on panic attack when Lucy appears on the front porch, waving excitedly at us.
“You should come in and have dinner with us,” Grant suggests, pulling my hand from the steering wheel and squeezing it in support.
“What?” I’m staring at Lucy, unable to look away. Her smile looks genuine, but it can’t be. She has to hate me a little. I’ve been sleeping with her son, and I’m sure she knows it.
“My mom has been giving me shit for not inviting you over for dinner. I didn’t think you would want to come, but now that you’re here …” He lets his voice trail off as he waits for me to make a decision.
“Um.”
“Madison,” he says, pulling my attention away from his mother. “She likes you, I promise. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“But you’ve been sleeping over, and she has to know—”
“She does know,” he cuts me off. “I tell her everything. As long as we’re careful, she doesn’t care. She knows how much I love you, Madison. She’s happy for us.”
My eyes focus on Lucy again, her smile still firmly in place as she rubs her hands up and down her arms. There’s a chill in the air tonight.
Reaching over and turning the key, Grant shuts the car off and gets out. Popping his head back in the open door, he says, “If you want these back, you’ll have to let us feed you.” My keys are dangling from his finger tip. I try to snag them, but he pulls his hand out of reach and shuts the door.
I’m left with no other option than to suck it up and go inside. I watch as Grant pulls Lucy in for a hug and kisses her on the cheek when he reaches the porch. I can see that he towers over her by at least six inches as they stand next to each other, both waiting on me to get out of the car.
As soon as I reach the porch, Lucy wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. I’m not used to this kind of affection from a parent and it warms me on the inside. It’s been a long time since I was hugged by anyone other than Grant or Libby. Grandma’s been gone for a few months now, and I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling of being loved.
“I’m glad you’re staying.” The hug combined with the sincerity in Lucy’s voice almost brings me to tears.
“Me too,” I say as she pulls away, Grant snagging me by the hand and pulling me inside.
Their house is small, but cute. After a quick tour, Grant and I disappear into his room while Lucy finishes cooking dinner. His walls are covered in black and white photos of him and his mother, posters of NFL football players, mainly quarterbacks, and a signed poster from a country band that I’ve never heard of. He watches me as I walk around, running my fingers over everything, getting a glimpse into his life. When I reach his dresser, I’m shocked to find a framed photo of me that I don’t remember being taken.
“Where did you get this?” Picking up the picture, I stare at a much younger version of myself in awe.
“You’re Grandma gave it to me.”
“When?” I’m sitting in the sand, staring at the sunset, lost in thought. I wonder what I was thinking about.
“After the accident, before you woke up, I asked to see you, and she thought it was a bad idea since your father was on his way. She didn’t want to have to explain to him who I was, so she gave me that picture.”
“I don’t even remember taking it,” I confess, wishing I remembered more about the time I spent with Grandma at the beach that summer.
“She said you looked peaceful staring at the ocean, so she snapped the photo. I kept hoping that I’d get to see that look on your face again. No one knew how bad your injuries were when she gave it to me.” His voice tightens, and I hear both the concern and uncertainty he must have felt in each word he speaks.
Staring at the picture, I try to remember that moment. Things are slowly starting to come back to me, but this moment, captured by my grandma, is still hidden in the shadows. I’m getting there, remembering little by little. I’m afraid of what’s still to come. The vacation. The accident. The aftermath.
Dinner with Lucy is pleasant. I expected it to be awkward or tense, but it’s not. We have a great conversation about the upcoming playoff game this Friday. Lucy asks if I want to ride to the game together since it’s an hour away. Looking to Grant for permission, he looks happy about the idea, so I agree, setting my fears aside that I’ll be trapped in a car with her alone.
***
As I’m about to leave for class Tuesday morning, there’s a man standing outside my door. I’m startled when I open it, letting out a gasp. His hand is raised as if he was about to knock.
“I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was looking for someone.”
His face looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why. “Who?”
“Grant Fisher.” Grant? Why would they he be looking for Grant here? “I saw his truck out front and I thought he might be here. You’re his girlfriend, right?”
“Yes, but he’s not here. Who are you again?” Who is this man and what does he want with Grant? He’s creeping me out, so I take a step back into the apartment, placing the door between us, ready to shut and lock it if necessary.
“Where are my manners?” The man thrusts his hand toward me, but I don’t take it so he lets it fall back to his side and continues. “Adam Mendle. I’m a scout. I was hoping to speak with Mr. Fisher while I was in town.”
A scout? This could be good for Grant, but something about this man seems off. I don’t want to give him Grant’s information. If he really is a scout, then he should go to the school and speak with him there.
“Grant’s at school. You should go and speak with him there. I’m sure his coach would like to be present. Or his mother.”
He thanks me for my time and heads down the stairs, looking back up at me and waving as he exits the main entrance. How did he get in here? Did someone forget to lock that door?
I call Grant to let him know that I’m on my way to pick him up. I need to tell him about the scout showing up at my door. I was going to wait to tell him until we were on our way, but then I notice that the scout is following me. I’m still on the phone with Grant so I fill him in.
“Hey, so I’m gonna tell you something and I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Not the best way to keep me calm. What’s up?” He sounds carefree and happy this morning. I have a feeling that what I’m about to tell him will change that.
“This man showed up at my door this morning. He said he was a scout and he was looking for you.”
“I’ve already talked to all the scouts, I thought. Why didn’t he go to the high school?”
“That’s what I told him. Here’s the thing, and this is where you don’t freak out on me, he’s following me right now. I can see him in the car behind me.”
“Where are you?” Grant quickly asks.
“About a block from your place.”
“Do not come here, Madison. That’s not a scout.” There’s a sense of urgency in his voice that scares me.
“Grant,” I say, his name catching in my throat as I speak. “Who’s following me?”
“I want you to go to school. Go to class like you normally would. He’s going to follow you until I show up. You need to stay away from me today. I’ll figure it out and call you later.”
The man’s face flashes in my mind as I opened the door. I recognized him. He looked familiar. Not because I knew him. He resembled Grant. “Your father.”
“Yes, Madison. It’s my father. I need for you to stay away from me right now. He won’t bother you or try to talk to you again. If I know him, he’ll tail you until he realizes that I’m not going to show up. Just make sure that you don’t let on that you know he’s following you, okay?”
“I can do that. Please, Grant, be careful and call me later. I need to know your safe.”
“I will. Let me know if he disappears. As long as he’s following you, we know where he is.”
“I love you.” The need to tell him is overwhelming. The need to hear him say it back is even more so.
“I love you, too. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.” His words cause me to let out the breath I was holding, relieved to know that it’s going to be fine.
I hang up, setting my phone in the passenger seat. Taking a left at the next light, Grant’s father follows me. As I park my car, I look around as nonchalantly as possible to see if he followed me into the parking lot. I see his car parked a few rows over, facing my direction. He’s sitting inside, watching me.
Doing as Grant asked, I head to class and sit nervously in the back of the room. I text Grant to let him know I made it to school and that I was followed. He doesn’t reply instantly like I expect, so I hold onto my phone the entire class, checking it periodically to make sure I didn’t miss a message from him. Nothing. I’m starting to worry. It’s not like him to not respond, even if it does take him a minute. I’m sure he’s busy. I’m sure they’re trying to figure out what to do, but he promised me everything was going to be okay. I need for everything to be okay.
When I return to my car an hour later, his father is still watching. He’s on my tail as soon as I turn onto Main Street and head toward the high school. He won’t be allowed to park in the student lot, and I doubt he’s stupid enough to park in the visitor’s lot. For the first time all year, I’m glad Grant doesn’t go to the same school as me. At first I thought it would be nice to be able to see him all day every day. Now, I’m glad his school is across town, far away from the man that’s following me, looking for him.
Libby can tell that something is off as soon as she spots me walking into the cafeteria. I brush her off and try to get her to talk about her weekend. She falls for it after a few minutes of persisting when I ask questions about Chester and the party. I stare at her, pretending to listen intently. The entire time I’m thinking about Grant and how I can help him. The Foundation helped him and his mother once, I’m sure we can find a way to help him again. We have to. I can’t lose him now. We just found each other again.
After checking my phone for messages, I excuse myself halfway through lunch. Still nothing from Grant. My heart is starting to ache at the thought that he might be in danger right now and I can’t do anything to stop it. I need fresh air and a moment alone. As I enter the garden, I hear footsteps behind me getting closer and closer. I stop and turn quickly, ready to beat the crap out of whoever is following me. I should have known it was Libby. Who else would be coming after me?
“All right. Something is going on with you and you are going to tell me right now.”
With her hand on her hip and a no-nonsense look on her face, Libby puts her foot down on my evasive maneuvers. I appreciate the fact that she cares and her loyalty, but I can’t tell her what’s going on. It would only make the situation worse.
“It’s nothing, really. It’s just been a crappy morning and I’m kind of blah.” I avoid eye contact with her the best I can, focusing on the people passing by the window behind her.
“Didn’t you get to see Grant this morning?” Her voice softens as she approaches. It’s not until I see her face that I realize that she’s making fun of me being in a bad mood.
“Um, he had an appointment or something, with a scout I think. He wasn’t in class.” My answer is rushed, causing Libby to squint her eyes at me in disbelief of what I’m telling her.
“Did he get his truck fixed?” Now she’s starting her usual inquisition, trying to get to the bottom of what’s really going on. Thankfully, I see the signs and it’s not going to work like it normally does.
“No. It’s still at my place.” I brush her question off and take a seat on the closest bench, relaxing back into my seat and staring up at the passing clouds.
“Are you picking him up from practice today then?” she asks, taking the seat next to me.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I watch as the clouds slowly pass by, a shiver running up my spine.
“You should. Maybe that’ll get you out of your funk.” My eyes meet hers and I force a smile. Her suggestion is noted. If Grant comes over later, I’m sure I’ll be out of this funk, at least for a few minutes.
Nodding my head as the bell rings, I ask Libby about her plans for the game this Friday, successfully changing the topic. She’s surprised that I’m riding with Lucy. Megan is driving her and Chester since her car is still in the shop. When she asks if I want to sit with them, I politely decline, not interested in having a replay of the last football game. I no longer feel the need to prove to Megan that Grant and I are together. I’m pretty sure she got the message, plus I’m sure seeing me with his mother will be a slap in her face. I don’t need to rub salt in her still open wounds.
I keep a close watch on my way home for Grant’s dad, but I don’t see him following me any longer. When I call Grant to tell him, he doesn’t answer, causing me to worry. All I can think is that he promised me everything was going to be okay. My first instinct is to go to his house, but he told me not to. Instead, I head to the Foundation, hoping that Lucy might be there.