Page 13 of Not a Word

“Aren’t you at work?”

“Your dad called. There’s been some kind of trouble with your grandfather.”

A pause. Then, “What kind of trouble?”

She didn’t hear the skateboard wheels now. He must have stopped.

“It’s not something I want to get into on the phone so—”

“Are you there?”

“Where?”

“At Grampa’s?”

“No. I—but your father called and—”

“Dad’s there?”

“He was. He—”

“Tell me what happened.”

Diana was starting to feel she couldn’t hold the truth back. “Gage, I’m so sorry, but your grandfather passed.”

Nothing.

“Gage?”

Nothing.

“You hear what I said? He’s passed away.”

She was already regretting telling him this way. She wanted to be able to look into his eyes, to take him into her arms if he started to cry. He liked to think he was an adult, that he didn’t need to be treated like a kid anymore, but he was still fourteen, and he hadn’t lost anyone this important to him yet. She tried to picture him now, his face cracking, eyes welling up with tears.

“Gage?”

“I’m here.”

“You okay?”

“Seriously?”

“I know, I know, stupid question. Where are you?”

“Just . . . around. I’ll be home soon.”

“Are you su—”

“Where’s Grandma?”

“Dad’s gone to get her.”

“Grandma didn’t find him?”

“No, she wasn’t—”

“How did— I mean, how did anybody—”