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I snuggle deeper into the couch, curling a blanket around me, and sigh contently. We watch in silence, except for the sound of Grandpa munching on his chips. For the first time in over a week, I feel at ease. Besides the raging hangover, I’m in a good place.
“He doesn’t want space. He wants you.”
I should have known the peace wouldn’t last long. “He says differently.”
“He was too influenced by us. We did that to him. He thought he was doing the right thing. You need to go home and straighten him out.”
“Monroe women don’t beg.” I mimic Grandma’s phrase she used so many times during my life.
He looks at me with one eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. “No, Monroe women don’t beg. But I bet he’ll have no problem begging.”
“We’ll see,” I reply non-committedly.
“I straightened Logan out, too.”
“Doesn’t matter. Besides work business, I don’t have anything to say to him either.”
“Lick your wounds, Peach Princess, but always mend your fences. Life’s too short.”
This time when I look at my Grandpa, he’s turned serious and a bit nostalgic.
One story I’ve heard over and over again growing up is that he and Grandma had a hard time when their parents didn’t forgive them for eloping. It plagued Grandma almost to the point of depression, and he felt hopeless. She used to say she was going to be okay, that his love was enough, but he wasn’t convinced.
He once told me he didn’t regret much in his life, and never a day he was married to her. But one regret he did have was the pain their marriage caused.
“Grandpa, this is a different situation with both Nick and Logan. I can’t explain how it felt.”
“Why don’t you try?”
“You really want to know how I felt when my boyfriend dumped me and my brother berated me?”
“Have at it. Let it roll.” He spreads his arms wide, flapping his fingers to his chest in a ‘give it to me’ motion.
So many words run through my mind, but after spilling my guts to my mom last night, only one stands out. “Unwanted. I felt unwanted. Logan wouldn’t listen to me, already on the warpath. He wasn’t fazed by the thought of running the gallery alone, never once saying I was an essential part of the operations. Then when Nick hit me with wanting space and how we should slow things down, I was defeated.”
“I can’t speak for Nick, but I suspect he’s rethinking his stupidity. He listened to us old men. We’re at fault, too, but when I got a hold of Logan last night, I told him to pass along a message to Nick. I told him to tell that man we made a mistake and we were wrong. You have all your dreams right there in Miami.
“As for Logan, we know he’s an asshole. He’s a Monroe man, and it’s a characteristic we carry proudly. But be assured, he’d lay down his life for you. He appreciates and respects you more than he lets on. Once again, I think you’ll have an apology waiting when you get home.”
r /> “We’ll see.”
“Listen to your grandpa. I’m right.”
He unmutes the TV, putting an end to our conversation. We watch in silence, me snoozing on and off until my parents come home and we all spend the rest of the day together, doing nothing. Our conversations are safe, staying away from anything in Miami. My mom catches me up on all the small town gossip and upcoming Christmas festivities.
I go to bed early, knowing I have to leave at the crack of dawn to return the rental car and catch my flight. When I lay in bed, I think about how coming home was a good idea. Besides my initial breakdown, my head is clearer.
I’ll forgive Logan… eventually.
But dealing with Nick is a puzzle. Does he really want space? Does he seriously want to slow down and take a step back after all we shared? Or was Grandpa right? Was his whole spiel a charade in an attempt to keep his damn word to my overbearing family? If that’s the case, he needs to talk to Shaw about a career in acting when his football days are over. I may have agreed with him that morning in my kitchen, but I know there’s no going back for me.
Thinking about Nick has me reaching for my phone. It’s been turned off since I got here. When I power it up, there are a few missed calls, but mostly text messages.
Claire: Just so you know, I miss your artsy ass. This game sucks balls without you.
I love Claire.
Bizzy: Your brother’s here at the game with Melanie. I sent him a death glare, but Melanie looks super cute.
