“What are we doing?” She sighed.
“Making a bad situation better.”
“I feel so stupid.” Rennie wanted to cry. She wanted to go back to her dorm room and hide until school started.
“Don’t. You didn’t know.”
When they returned, Graham took over. He told the group that if they were uncomfortable with the accommodations, they could leave, but that they were all responsible because they had all agreed when Rennie read them the ad. Rennie smiled. Graham had a way of making her feel better. After she unpacked everything, she found the courage to tell her friends, “If you want to use one of the air mattresses, you’re responsible for blowing it up.” A few grumbled, but in the end, everyone did their part.
“Come on.” Graham took Rennie’s hand and pulled her behind him. He had on his wet suit, and the arms slapped his butt with each step he took. They walked toward the surf, trudging through the sand.
“You’re not going to try and teach me again, are you?” she asked when they stopped by a surfboard.
Graham laughed. “No, I lost count of how many times you’ve fallen off the board. I thought we’d go out and just sit for a bit.” He took the board from the sand and dropped it into the water. Rennie climbed on and sat cross-legged toward the front while Graham pushed them out into the water and finally slid onto the board.
They were quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts as the waves moved them around. Up and down. Up and down. For Rennie, being on the surfboard like this was almost like a carnival ride, except waves were unpredictable.
“You can’t let our friends get to you,” Graham said. She turned and faced him.
“I know. I feel bad, though.”
He shrugged and scooted closer to her. He reached for her hand, and she gave it willingly. This weekend they would be more than friends; she was sure of it. “I don’t like seeing you sad, Ren.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss deepened, and their hands tangled in each other’s hair. That was until a wave washed over them. Rennie and Graham laughed, but the tone had been set for the weekend. They were both single and could finally be together.
Rennie startled at the sound of a door slamming. Her lips tingled. A reaction from the memory? Or something else? She couldn’t be sure. She looked over her shoulder to see who headed her way, but no one was there. She sat back in the chair and continued to push herself back and forth as she watched the man out on the beach take a break from surfing.
She checked her phone, expecting a text from Theo, but there was nothing. Her parents had replied to her earlier message. They sent her a picture of them holding a koala bear and wished her a happy Thanksgiving and asked that she wish Brooklyn and Brystol one as well. They passed along the name of their travel agent and suggested Simone take the cruise they were taking in March to Europe. Rennie frowned at the idea, mostly because she would like to spend some time with them but couldn’t fault them for living their lives.
SIX
Thanksgiving dinner at the Chamberlains’ was awkward. The three of them were silent except for the clanking of the silverware when it hit a plate, the murmured requests when someone needed a dish passed to them, and Johanna’s sniffles. Each time Graham would look at his mother to confirm his suspicions that she was crying, she would look away or make an excuse to get up. On the other side of him, his father, George, stared at his plate, saying nothing. Grady had done this. He put his family through hell most days, but not showing up for Thanksgiving was a new low, even for him.
Graham fumed. He wanted to find Grady and beat the shit out of him. His brother needed some sense knocked into him. He needed help. Grady needed to wake up and see what he was doing to their parents. Enough was enough. His family had done nothing but enabled his addiction, and this was how Grady repaid everyone. His absence. Usually, Graham wouldn’t care, but their parents did, and he hated seeing his parents upset.
After dinner, when his father began watching the next sporting event on television and his mother insisted Graham do the same, he chose to help her with the dishes instead. He suggested she clear the table and put everything into containers while he finished carving the rest of the turkey, making sure to separate the meat from bone for the soup his mother would later make. Once he finished, he filled the roasting pan with hot sudsy water and moved it to the stove, where he turned the burner on low. It was a trick he learned from his grandma many years ago, the best way to remove stuck-on food. He also filled the sink and started washing the dishes his mother brought to him.
“We have a dishwasher, you know.” Johanna pointed to it.
“I know.” As much as Graham wanted to head over to the Driftwood Inn to be with his friends, he didn’t want to leave his mother so soon. He figured he would try to prolong his dish duties by handwashing everything.
“Well, at least put some gloves on.”
He held a hand up and laughed. “I think my manicure will survive the dishpan-hand look.”
His mother swatted him with a towel and went back to work. They made small talk with hushed voices. She didn’t ask any more about Grady or about Graham’s love life. Instead, she talked about a vacation she wanted to take but was having a difficult time convincing George to go on. He was worried about Grady.
“Always worried about Grady,” Johanna stressed. “At some point, do we give up?”
Graham stiffened and looked out the kitchen window. In the fifteen years since the accident, he had never heard his mother ask such a question. He removed his hands from the water and dried them with a dish towel. He turned and found his mother sitting at the small table where she and George ate most of their meals. Graham took a mug from the dish rack and filled it with coffee and took it to his mother. He pulled the vacant chair out from under the table and sat down.
“Grady needs professional help, Mom.”
“I know,” she said quietly as tears escaped her eyes. Her hands wrapped around the mug. She lifted it to her lips and took a sip. “I’ve tried talking to your father, but he’s in denial. He doesn’t see the prolonged damage. There were times when you boys were growing up, I couldn’t tell you apart. So many of the same features—your eyes, cheekbones, and the way you’d wear your hair. When I saw Grady the last time, he looked nothing like you, and I had to take a step back. My baby boy is in trouble and has been for years, and I’ve been blinded by the notion he’d get better on his own or this was his way of coping.”
“What do you mean, last time? Isn’t Grady living here?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him in weeks, Graham.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She tried to smile, but her cheeks barely lifted. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Mom, he’s my brother. I worry about him too.”
“I know, but he shouldn’t be your problem. He’s mine and your father’s.”
Graham was at a loss for words. Her thoughts differed vastly from his father’s. George wanted everyone to look the other way when it came to Grady. On the surface, George needed to believe he had the perfect life.
“I thought that with Brooklyn back, Grady would change. That her presence would bring him some closure,” Johanna stated. Graham knew this wasn’t the case. Grady was upset with Brooklyn and blamed her for Austin’s death.