The Truth About That Summer

twelve

Now blinking herself awake, Grams yawns and snuggles into her throw blanket. Sitting beside her, I rest my head on her shoulder, mind buzzing between foggy memories and obnoxious new feelings fluttering around my belly. Maybe not so new. Reawakened?

"Thank you for dinner, Dylan." Grams cheek is soft against the top of my head. "And for letting Luke and Finn stay."

I stiffen but decide to hold my tongue. "Sure, Grams."

"Let's go to sleep." She says, more a command than a request. I oblige, helping her to her feet and guiding her up the stairs to her bedroom.

After tucking her into bed and leaving a glass of water on her bedside table to down her pills, I make my way down the hall to my room. Except my feet keep going, stopping just outside the last door in the hall.

I rest my hand against the surface, feeling a hole tearing through my chest as I do. I lean my forehead against the faded baseball posters taped to the old wood. My hand finds the knob but can't push the door open and after a moment, I realize I'm nearly panting, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Not today, I tell myself, swiftly pivoting down the hall and throwing myself into my own room, just barely making it onto my mattress. Some day, but not today.

I repeat the promise to myself again and again, determined not to be so cowardly as to avoid a stupid bedroom all summer. Shoving my face in my pillow, I dry my tears against the childish cartoon pillowcase and slow my breathing.

No longer so close to losing it, I rummage through my duffel bag until I feel the familiar, compact device in my hand. Powering my cell on, I'm greeted by a flood of vibrations. Too many considering it's only been a couple of days.

Mom. Dad. Hunter. Rolling onto my back, I glare at the ceiling, annoyed at the last caller especially.

I knew I'd have to face them all sooner or later. As I've taken the complimentary few days to "get settled," it's about time that I start making some return calls.

I listen to Hunter's message first, chuckling to myself at his desperate pleas for me to take him back. The apologies always sound the same.

So much for being "done for good this time."

Shaking my head, I toss my phone under my bed and turn my light out.

Not today. Some day, but not today.

I wake to the smell of bacon and follow my growling stomach to it's source, hair still a mess around my head, PJ's twisted haphazardly around my body.

"Grams?" I grumble, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Finding her in a lavender nightgown and matching slippers, I settle at the table, where a mug of green tea is already awaiting me. "What did I say? I'm supposed to be helping you!"

"It's Friday," Grams shrugs, smiling over her shoulder. "I like bacon on Fridays - you didn't know that."

I nod, making a mental note. "Now I do."

"Now you do," She confirms, placing a steaming dish in front of me, loaded with scrambled eggs and thick cut bacon. My stomach rumbles in response and I dig in.

"I can't promise it'll be as good as yours," I tell her between bites, "But I will remember for next week."

Grams nods, sipping her tea and nibbling slowly at her own bacon. Pretending to read the news, she glances at me carefully.

"Any plans yet for the weekend?"

Sighing, I glare at the clock, realizing that Grams enticed me out of bed earlier than normal. No doubt so that I wouldn't be able to escape this exact conversation.

"Nope," I answer honestly, standing and stretching my arms above my head. Grabbing my plate, already empty due to a distaste for green beans, I make quick work of washing my plate and leaving it to dry.

Early for work or not, I'm not having this conversation today. Not with how my head is pounding from last nights cry-session.

"You promised." Grams says sternly, putting the newspaper down abruptly.

I purse my lips at the stubborn woman, crossing my arms over my chest in an effort to appear confident. Grams own stare is unwavering and finally I cave, little Dylan still somewhere deep inside me and ultimately too nervous to defy my Grams.

"I'll figure it out." I mutter reluctantly, trudging back up the stairs to get ready for work.

Just one more day of just Annie and me in the toddler room. Thank God.

"Why don't you call one of the girls?" Grams shouts after me. I flinch midstep but continue onwards, pretending not to hear her. "Brynn? Maya?"

Again I wince but hold back my comments, instead settling for an eye roll behind Grams back.

"You could always ask Luke!"

Finally, I lose it. "I can handle my own social calendar! Thank you!" I close my bedroom door a bit too roughly and immediately quiet, waiting for the scolding I'm sure will follow.

Instead, all that I hear is the sound of Grams chuckling to herself.

Grams makes me laugh... things are picking up loves! Thanks for reading ❤️