Page 73 of Incandescent


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We raked the piles of leaves onto the tarp, then opened the gate and lugged them toward the curb, where they’d be collected by the city. If we were lucky, a storm wouldn’t blow through with gusts big enough to scatter them back into our yard. Sometimes it was a never-ending battle with the Northeast Ohio weather. “One more load from the front lawn, and then I’ll take you driving.”

“Can we do it tomorrow instead?” he whined. “Jeremy never gets Saturdays off, and he was gonna come over.”

I gave him a stern look for forgetting to tell me. “Now that you’ve got your temporary license, I need to start teaching you the basics before the winter season moves in and you’ve got snow to contend with. We’ll practice tomorrow too, as much as we can on the weekends.”

I spotted the tic in his jaw and wondered if this had more to do with avoiding the driving thing altogether. But I certainly didn’t want to deal with a crabby teenager for the remainder of the day. “It won’t take us long. Invite Jeremy over for pizza, and then you can hang out for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” His expression brightened as he pulled out his phone, no doubt to fire off a text. “In my room?”

“As long as you leave the door open,” I replied out of habit, and he rolled his eyes, but I saw that tic in his jaw again. I’d admit I wavered a moment, wondering if the rule Rebecca and I had established long ago should be lifted or maybe adjusted. I knew I was probably doing this all wrong, so relying on some of the structure we’d set up when we became parents always helped me relax a bit if I was feeling overwhelmed. I’d definitely think on it more. But my parents had a similar rule for me when I was a teen, which made it awfully hard to fool around or sneak alcohol or whatever else I got up to with my friends. Grant, however, was way different than I was, or maybe he was just getting a late start, given everything we’d been through the past couple of years.

It took us practically all afternoon, but we got the last of the leaves to the curb just in time for a downpour.

“Looks like we can’t go driving,” Grant said almost gleefully as we jogged back inside so we didn’t get too wet.

“Nice try. We’re only gonna practice in a parking lot, and it’s good to learn the basics in this kind of weather since you’ll be driving through it your entire life.” I looked out the window toward the clouds. “Besides, it’ll probably die down soon.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

“And then we’ll pick Jeremy up on the way home.”

He bit his lip, thinking on the idea. Jeremy had his license, but he came from a blended family with lots of kids, so he and his stepsiblings were on a schedule with the two vehicles in their family. He only got access to one a couple of times a week.

“I can drive him home too,” I added.

He pulled out his phone and began texting.

“Plans all set?” I asked as his smile returned.

“Yep, let me jump in the shower.” He pulled his clammy shirt away from his neck. “Unless you wanna go first?”

“Go for it. I have some bills to pay online.”

After we fed Ruby—who was as tuckered out as I’d predicted, barely finishing her bowl of food before lying back down—we got on the road. Grant practiced pulling in and out of an empty parking space while getting used to the brake and gas pedals. I would need a stiff drink when it came time to get on the road with him, but this I could handle.

Once he’d had enough, we traded places, and I drove to Jeremy’s house. I waved to his mom, who was standing at the front door, corralling one of his younger stepsisters as Jeremy slid into the back seat.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, and I smiled in the rearview mirror.

Grant and Jeremy talked gamer language the whole way home, so I was able to tune them out, though it was sweet how much they seemed to connect on that level. Once inside, they retreated to the living room with their laptops instead of his room, sitting side by side on the couch so they could peer at each other’s screen and strategize, apparently.

I put in a load of laundry, and once the pizza delivery came, we ate around our new kitchen island. I’d ordered dark-stained wooden stools, and when they were delivered yesterday, Grant agreed they matched pretty well.

“It looks awesome in here,” Jeremy said, glancing around the room.

“Right? Marc did a great job,” Grant said, then looked at me. “You should’ve invited him over.”

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