Page 57 of Something Old

“We’re not going out for dinner, Holly. It was nice, I guess, for you to bring Ryder to meet me since you were coming to town anyway to visit friends, but I’m not interested in spending time together.”

“But what about all those things I said the other day?”

“What things?”

Madeline, Grant noticed, moved further away to give them privacy. He wished she’d moved closer instead.

“You know, about how I’ve missed you.” She reached out and touched the collar of his shirt. Even Grant could tell the eye contact she was making was supposed to be . . . meaningful. “I was a fool. I admitted it—and I told you how, in a perfect world, you, me, and Ryder would be a family.” Grant noticed Holly cut her eyes to Madeline as she finished her little speech as if speaking for Madeline’s benefit. Weird.

Was his brain not holding a charge or something? Had Holly really spouted all that nonsense? When? He’d worked so hard to be polite for Ryder’s sake and to not show open hostility that he must’ve smiled and nodded without hearing half of what she’d said. And the stuff that had registered? Well, he’d just assumed she was indulging herself in a delusional stroll down rewrite-history lane.

“Holly . . . I can’t imagine what you’re trying to get at, but if it’s even remotely what I think it is, the answer is no. I loved you and wanted to live my whole life with you, but you chose to end that. You have a child with another man. Surely, you can see . . . we’re over. Thoroughly, irrevocably, over.”

He’d spoken calmly, careful to keep his tone mild—not wanting to stress out the kid, who was the only person fully innocent in the mess that had been his and Holly’s implosion. Yet, he was surprised to find his outward peacefulness wasn’t an act. He’d been worried that seeing Holly again would bring everything back, all the love, all the pain, all the angst. . . .

Instead, he felt nothing but a sort of distanced compassion, the kind you feel for someone because they’re a fellow human having a hard time, not the type you feel for someone you know well or deeply care about. Holly was a stranger to him now—and maybe always had been on some level. He’d just been blind to it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I hope you have a good life.”

Holly stared at him—absolutely silent, which was unusual for her—then her mouth twisted bitterly, and her eyes hardened. She nodded once, her face red, and turned on her heel, tugging Ryder up from the floor, where he’d been quietly playing with a fire engine driven by a Dalmatian puppy that he’d brought in with him.

Once Holly was well and gone, Madeline relocked the door and clicked off all but one of the lights. Then she turned to him with a half-smile. “She really said all that stuff to you at your dad’s, yet you didn’t twig that she was trying to say she wanted you back?”

So, Madeline hadn’t moved that far away, after all. Grant smiled and felt good about that—then tried to make light of it. He didn’t want to talk about Holly. He’d spent too much time talking about her. He was done. He didn’t need to anymore. “What can I say? I’m a bit thick.”

Madeline’s grin was so big, her eyes narrowed to merry slits. “Well, I know that.”

A moment later, she was serious again. “Are you sure you don’t want to think it through, though? I know it’s coming at you out of nowhere, but perhaps you shouldn’t toss the idea aside so quickly.”

Maybe his joke about being “thick” wasn’t a joke at all. Grant was seriously at a loss. What was Madeline getting at? His face must’ve relayed his confusion because she added, her voice softer yet, “You’ve always wanted children, and while it’s not common, people can—and do—change. You had a long history together. Maybe you could again. Maybe it would be a mistake to not even consider it just because Holly hurt your pride. Think about little Ryder. He could be your son. He even looks like you.”

Grant scrubbed his face with his hands. Was he really hearing what he thought he was hearing?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are . . . ” He trailed off, then blew out a breath. “Holly didn’t hurt my pride. She destroyed my heart. I’m not interested in her in any way whatsoever, and yes, I think about that little boy, but only because I feel sad for him. Unless Holly figures herself out, he’s going to have a complicated life. But as for being his father? He already has one.” He shook his head, astounded. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest the possibility. After everything you and I have talked about, how can you think for a minute that I’d ever go back to her?”

Madeline shrugged but looked unapologetic. “It’s good to think through all your options.”

“There are no ‘options’ that involve me getting back together with Holly. I think that’s why I didn’t grasp what she was suggesting. It didn’t compute because I would never go there, period. There’s only one woman I’m interested in these days. One day she’ll figure that out and return my feelings—or she won’t, but either way, Holly is not in my future. Mucking about at my dad’s—and talking to you all these months—has made one thing very clear to me.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

It didn’t escape Grant’s notice that Madeline acted as if she hadn’t heard his there’s-only-one-woman-I’m-interested-in comment. He answered her slightly disappointing response anyway. “That you have to let go of the past, of the things that are gone, or they’ll trap you in some sad, strange half-life that isn’t really living at all. As a wise person once said to me, ‘There is only the present moment and the future.’”

Three vertical lines appeared between Madeline’s eyebrows as they knit together. She stooped to scoop Boots up again, and the cat immediately began a loud rumble. Grant smiled. His purr really was the soothing sound Madeline always claimed it was, after all.

“That so-called ‘wise’ person you quoted sounds like a real idiot.”

Grant’s smile deepened, and he shrugged.

“I don’t know if I really thought you’d get back together with her, or if it was just a selfish worry for myself, or a kind hope for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that, well, if I was somehow in a similar position . . . If I could have Lyle and Lauren and Ronny back . . . I’d do anything for that.”

Grant gently withdrew Boots from Madeline’s arms and deposited him on the floor, which earned him a filthy look. He took Madeline’s hands. “Of course, you would—but it’s a totally different thing. Your marriage ended because your husband died. You lost your child and your sister through no choice of your own. Holly made choices—and I did too, if I’m honest—that ended us. There’s no going back.”

Madeline’s eyes were bright and shiny. “I wish there was.”