I lead her outside to my car, and she keeps a noticeable amount of distance between us. I help her in, round the hood to get into the driver’s seat, and we sit in silence. The drone of cars passing by and others walking to their cars stay on the outside while we sit in this disconcerting silence.
“Teeny—”
“You said you’d be here.”
“I know.”
“This was really important to me.”
“I know.” She turns, facing the front of the car, avoiding my eyes. “I really am sorry.”
She doesn’t answer me but silently nods. “How was your trip?”
I spare her the gritty details. “It was fine.”
“And your dad? How’s he doing?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s good.”
She finally looks at me and smiles. “I’m not mad at you.” I smile weakly, and she laughs. “Okay, maybe a little. But you could’ve called if you were going to be late.”
“I know. I left my phone at home. And I didn’t realize what time it was.”
“You weren’t at home?”
I shake my head. “I went for a drive.” I morosely tell her my vague explanation of my whereabouts, and something twinges in my chest. It tugs and coils, and I want to tell her about it. How when I feel this ache inside me, I don’t know how to put it into words. But if I could, it would be for her. I only ever want to be able to explain it to her. How I’m constantly drifting and floating when all I want to do is sit and be calm.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. I reach for her hand, placing a soft kiss into her palm. “You want to just go home?”
“Yes and no,” she tells me, a shy smile teasing her lips. “Can we maybe go to your house? Is your mom home?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay.”
“Okay.”
I start the car and drive in silence. Teeny plays with my radio, keeping the volume at a low hum, and I hold her hand in mine. I steal glances in her direction, finding no resentment or anger, but my girlfriend. The same girlfriend I love and who would stand by me, never dismissing me out of spite.
I pull into my driveway to see all the lights are off. Next door, Teeny’s driveway sits empty.
“My parents drove my grandparents back home,” she tells me.
“Is that who that was? At your show?”
She nods. “My grandma grew up in Korea. She loved to draw and paint, but it was a struggle for her. Especially after the war. She couldn’t afford oil paints or anything fancy, so she’d use twigs she’d find outside. She would burn the tips and use the charcoal ends to draw.” She pauses, smiling fondly. “So, she’s always been really supportive of my artwork. When I was five, she was the one who convinced my mom to send me to art school after she let me play with a bunch of her watercolors. Said I had a natural talent for it.
“I was so excited for you to meet her today. When you didn’t show up, I told her that you were still up in Sacramento with your dad. That he needed you and you couldn’t make it. And she said, ‘Good boy. He put family first.’ So, I didn’t want to introduce you when you showed up late. I didn’t want to tell her that you just…didn’t show up on time.”
We’ve been sitting in my car, the engine turned off and the radio all the way down, and my heart sinks to my stomach when Teeny tells me this. This was so much more than just me being late for her show. She expected me to be there.
“I really am sorry, Teen.”
“I know.” She cups my jaw, and her soft eyes make the guilt in my gut brew to a thickness that’s hard to digest. “And I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. I just want you to know how important this was to me.”
“I knew. I promise I knew. I was just dealing with…some things.”
“I know, Everett. I know you think I don’t notice, but I do. And whatever you’re dealing with, I wish you’d tell me.”
