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“Yes.”
“Let me talk to him.” He held his good hand out, as though he expected Grace to hand her phone over.
“No!” What the hell had gotten into him? He didn’t usually behave like an idiot.
“Grace…”
“Dad, I’m a grown woman. Stop treating me like I’m not.”
“She’s right,” her mom said. “Stop being an idiot.”
“You’d be an idiot if you’d seen what I did. The man was half naked. Would you feel the same way if you’d walked in on Scott with a forty-year-old woman?” her dad asked.
Her mom wrinkled her nose. “Why would you ask that?”
“Think about it. This isn’t just some guy. It’s a grown man. He’s older, he’s divorced. And Grace… well, she doesn’t always make the best decisions.”
“Dad!” Fury washed over her. “If you keep talking like this you and I are going to have a problem. Will you just listen to me for a minute? Michael and I are in love.”
“He’s too old for you.”
“No, he isn’t.” She shook her head. “You are older than mom.” Sure it was only by eight years, not sixteen, but it was still there.
“And when you’re your mom’s age, he’s going to be drawing a pension. You’ll be young and beautiful still and he’ll be needing his diaper changed.” Her dad grimaced.
“Oh, now I’ve heard it all. Is that what I’ll be doing for you in ten years’ time?” her mom asked him. “Because let me tell you, keep acting like this and I’ll let you stew in your own crap.”
Her dad sighed. “It’s just not right. And let’s not forget that he’s family.”
“You’ll never think anybody is good enough for Grace,” her mom said. “He could be the King of England and you’d find something to criticize.”
“Christ.” Her dad squeezed his eyes shut. “I need to get out of here.” He reached for his keys on the counter.
“Good.” Her mom nodded. “And don’t come back until you’re thinking straight.”
Her dad stormed out of the house. It was getting to be a habit.
And then it was just her and her mom, staring at each other like they had no idea what just happened.
“Wine?” her mom asked.
“Yes please.” Grace collapsed onto a stool. “Make it a big one.”
* * *
Grace wasn’t answering her phone. Michael tried five times and every time it went straight to voicemail. He left a quick message asking her to call him back and then walked back down the stairs.
He’d head to her house. And if she wasn’t there, he’d head to her parents’. He couldn’t stand sitting around here, waiting for something to happen.
He was a man who liked to be in control.
“Everything okay?” his mom asked as he walked into the living room. She was awake and smiling at him. And he wanted to tell her it was all fine. That he hadn’t fucked up royally. That he hadn’t hurt the people he loved.
Again.
Her eyes were soft as he walked over to hug her, brushing his lips against her cheek that was still warm from her sleep.
“I should ask you that,” he said. “How are you?”
