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“Not that kind of trust. I mean that I think he doesn’t trust me with his heart. He’s afraid I’ll break it.”
“Or he’s afraid he’ll break yours and the two of you will never be the same. Grady would rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. He’s said that to me a million times over.”
“What does that mean?”
“If I were a betting man—and we both know that I am—I’d be willing to bet that he’s afraid that you two will get tired of one another and break up, and then he’ll lose his best friend too.” He lays his palm on his chest. “And I don’t mean me.” He hauls in another breath. “I’ve never seen Grady as happy as he’s been these past couple of weeks, since that night we all rode around together. He’s like a different person. He had his shit together before, but now…now he seems like he’s whole. He’s who he’s supposed to be when he’s with you.”
“It’s quite the opposite, Junior,” I admit softly. “I’m who I’m supposed to be when I’m with Grady, not the other way around.”
“He’s going to want to put a baby in you,” he says, his voice childish, reminding me of when we were teens.
“Nothing would make me happier,” I confess.
“Oh, Evie,” he says,
and he walks toward me, his arms outstretched. He has grease on his hands though, so I dodge him and run around him.
“Don’t you put your paws on me, Junior!” I cry as I duck around him. He chases after me.
“Come on, Evie,” he says. “I just want a little hug.” He runs after me down the drive, and I stop short when I see a blue sedan sitting there.
“Junior,” I say, “whose car is this?”
He grimaces. “Kerry-Anne Williams’s,” he replies. It sounds like he’s saying somebody just pooped. Or something.
I spin around. “Why is Kerry-Anne Williams here?”
“Barbara-Claire had one of those daycare mom meetings. So they could plan the snacks and the field trips this month and all that shit.”
I point to the ground beneath my feet. “So Kerry-Anne Williams is here right now.”
“Unfortunately,” he grumbles. “Why do you think I’m out here?”
“Junior, tell me the truth: did Grady and Kerry-Anne ever date?”
He pretends to shiver. “God, no. Grady hates the ground she walks on. Always has.”
“Why does he dislike her so much?”
He stares at nothing, like he’s thinking out loud. “Honestly, I think he hated her guts because she used to talk shit about you. He didn’t like for anybody to be mean to you. Hated it. And hated her because of it.”
“But after I moved away, surely she stopped all that.”
He shakes his head. “Not really. She had a big crush on Grady. Always has.” He jabs a finger toward me. “I think she always knew how much he loved you. Loves you,” he corrects at the last moment.
“I’m going to go inside and talk to Barbara-Claire,” I suddenly say.
Junior straightens his spine. “You really think that’s a good idea?”
“Never had a better one,” I mutter as I walk past him and to the garage door, where I let myself in.
I find Barbara-Claire in the kitchen, cleaning up left-over food. Kerry-Anne is behind her at the sink, washing a few dishes. “Well, hey you,” Barbara-Claire says. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d say hello.” I pluck a carrot stick off a platter and bite off a chunk, chewing and crunching loudly.
“Hey, Evie,” Kerry-Anne says warily.
“Hey,” I reply around a mouthful of carrot.
