Heavy Shit
My eyes are glued on the back of Steven’s head as he jogs away, my pulse picking up speed once he’s out of sight. On a deep inhale, I move my focus to the water droplets rolling down the window, letting the sound of the rain beating down on his truck calm me.
“He’s crazy about you, you know.” My glare slides to Mrs. Duncan as she turns to peer at me over the front seat, the leather making a squeaking sound as she readjusts herself.
Steven’s grandmother has his eyes—or, rather, he has hers. Those same prominent chocolate eyes that demand your attention. Her hair isn’t nearly as dark as his, but given that she still has some color to it, I’m guessing it once was. Even at her age, her beauty shines through. She obviously still takes pride in looking her best. Her short hair perfectly curled, her blouse freshly pressed, and pearls around her neck. I can only imagine the kind of knockout she must have been in her hay day.
My cheeks heat as I smile and shake my head. Steven and I have already explained to his grandmother several times I’m not Cat, but from what I gather, she isn’t completely mentally sound. I’ll admit, seeing the way Steven is with his grandmother has only added to his sex appeal. She doesn’t seem to be all that easy to handle, but he hasn’t shown even the slightest amount of annoyance toward her.
Now, though, he’s gone inside Walgreens to pick up her medication, leaving me to deal with her on my own.
“Oh no, Mrs. Duncan, I’m not—”
“I’ve already told you, call me Darla,” she scolds. “And I know exactly who you are.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “I’m not as absentminded as my grandson seems to think. I only let him go on believing it so he’ll take care of all my errands for me.”
Laughing, I shake my head. Okay, I think I might love this woman. “But I’m not his girlfriend.”
“You should be,” she says, matter of fact.
My chest burns from the lack of air, and I wonder what he told her about us. Does she know about our one night together?
Clearing my throat, I shake my head again. “He’s dating my best friend. They’re actually pretty perfect for each other.”
“No, no…” She waves her hand and sighs. “I know it may seem that way on paper, but just because two people are alike, or their relationship goes smoothly, doesn’t mean they are right for each other. I’ve never been able to make my grandson understand love is meant to be messy and complicated. If you don’t have to fight for it, how can you ever be sure it’s really what you want?”
She has a point. That makes total sense—even to me.
“My grandson hasn’t told you what happened to his parents, has he?”
My gut twists with worry, afraid she’s about to drop some heavy shit on me—personal information I probably shouldn’t be hearing. “No, but—”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Darla says, cutting me off before I can protest. “They’ve been lost to us for nearly twenty-five years, and he still can’t talk about it.” My breath stills as I process what she said. Lost. If Steven’s parents died twenty-five years ago, that means he was still a young boy. Far too young to be without his parents. It also explains why I’d never seen any recent pictures of them in his house.
Though Darla’s eyes never leave me, there’s a vacancy about them, as if her memories are playing out in front of her. “Steven’s father—my son—was a passionate man. Most artists are, and Eddy was a brilliant musician. I think his thirst for life was part of the reason Candice fell in love with him, but it was also the source of their problems. My son and daughter-in-law argued a lot, but it wasn’t because of a lack of love. They cared deeply for each other, which is something I can’t seem to make Steven understand. He only remembers the bad moments, the screaming matches followed by the silence.” She pauses, taking a deep breath as she digs a tissue from her pocket, then gives me a sad smile before blotting the tip of her nose with it.
“I believe their relationship distorted his view of love, what it should and shouldn’t be. You see, the night his father died, Eddy and Candice had been fighting. Who’s to say what it was even about. Probably something to do with a gig she didn’t want him to take. Eddy was gone a lot, and Candice was admittedly jealous of his music. Either way, he’d broken one of my cardinal rules that night and left the house angry. When he finally came to his senses and stopped at a store to get Candice some apology flowers, he walked in on a robbery in progress and was killed.”
I gasp, and tears prick my eyes.
“Candice didn’t handle Eddy’s death well. She blamed herself and turned to booze and antidepressants to cope with her pain. That’s what ultimately ended her life as well, forcing Steven to grow up too quickly.”
My eyes blink rapidly in an effort to dry my tears before they fall, and my stomach sours with thoughts of Steven as a little boy having just lost both his parents.
“My point in telling you all of this, dear girl, is so you’ll understand why I think Cat is so wrong for my Steven. He’s always been searching for an easy love, but that doesn’t exist. The moment he told me about you, I knew you were the one, and I think he did too. I’m not entirely sure how he ended up with Cat, but she’s not the one who lights a fire in him. She’s not the one he wanted to fight for. The two of you belong together.”
I’m still staring at her, speechless with my mouth agape, when Steven opens the driver’s side door and hops inside. Darla winks before turning back around in her seat, and I feel my face heat as Steven looks back at me.
He raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay in here?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to smile as I slowly nod.
“Wonderful,” Darla says. “Your love and I were having a little girl talk.”
Steven sighs, then mouths an apology before turning around to start the truck, and I’m still frozen, Darla’s words echoing in my head.
Fuck.
My grandmother is settled in her chair, a blanket over her lap and the television remote on the arm. Bending down, I give her a quick kiss on the head. She’ll be eighty in a couple months, and lately, her aging has been painfully obvious. She’s frail and forgetful, and I worry about her all the time. I know it wasn’t easy for her taking care of me when I was younger, but now it would seem the tables have turned. Sometimes watching out for her is like having a second job, and thinking that way makes me feel like shit.
Gram has been my parent, my grandparent, and my best friend since I was a young boy. I owe her more than I could ever repay her, not that she would ever try to collect.
After my father died, I had to accept my life would never be the same. But once my mother died, I felt completely misplaced. Everything I’d known was gone—my parents, my home, and even my school. That first night I came here to live with my grandparents, I was desperate to have some stability back in my life. As if knowing exactly what I needed, my grandmother had my room waiting and set up exactly as it had been at my parents’. She’s continued to take care of me in the same manner all these years—always giving me exactly what I need without me even having to ask.
“Okay, Gram, you’re all set up. I should probably get Lori home.”
She grabs my hand and squeezes it as I stand to meet her gaze.
“She’s so beautiful. A real keeper, that one. Don’t you let her slip away.”
I roll my eyes and sigh, but don’t bother to correct her. There’s no point, she knows Lori’s not Cat. She’s met Cat and didn’t like her. At this point I think she’s merely messing with me. Besides, she isn’t totally wrong. Lori is certainly beautiful. Her inner beauty was really shining today, she’s been great with Gram. And if she’d ever let anyone catch her, Lori would be a keeper, but I’ve already lost my chance.
“Sure, Gram.” I smirk. “And you promise me you won’t go traveling around town alone again. You know that’s not safe.”
She waves me off. “You nearly forgot about me last month, and I figured it would be easier for me to come to you. Besides, I’m perfectly capable of getting from one side of town to the other.”
I shake my head then bend down to give her another quick kiss before hurrying out the door and back to the truck. Lori gives me a quick tight smile as I climb inside but remains quiet as I begin to drive. I feel the need to fill the silence, but I’m not sure what to say.
When we come to a stoplight, I look at Lori. She’s fidgeting with the hair-tie on her wrist and staring out the window.
“I’m sorry about today. I know my grandmother can be a little much.”
Her head turns toward me, her eyes soft as they land on me and she shakes her head. “Darla is great, I think I might have a new best friend. Don’t tell Cat.” She lets out a nervous laugh.
My eyes narrow as I study Lori, her guard is down, and it oddly makes me feel like I should put my own up. “She told you about my parents, didn’t she?”
She gives me a sheepish grin as someone honks their horn behind us, alerting me the light is green again. I sigh and turn my attention back to the road as I put my foot on the gas.
“Please don’t mention this to Cat.”
“The two of you have been dating for months, and you haven’t told her?”
“She knows my parents died when I was young and I was raised by my grandmother, but she doesn’t know the details. It isn’t something I care to talk about.”
“I won’t tell her. But you’re going to tell her soon, right? I hate keeping stuff from her, we tell each other everything.”
I glance over at her through the corner of my eye. “Not everything.” Her cheeks go red causing me to instantly regret my comment. “It isn’t something that comes up easily in conversation. How does that even go? ‘By the way, my dad was killed when I was a kid then my mom lost her mind and died from an accidental overdose.’” She presses her lips into a flat line as I cut my eyes over to her, and I let out a relenting sigh. “I’ll tell her eventually, okay? I’m just not ready.”
We come to a stop again, and she nods as my gaze lands back on her.
“It explains a lot about you,” she says, relaxing back into her seat as she crosses her arms.
The light turns green as I scoff, pulling my attention back to the road. “Oh yeah, like what?”
“Like why you were so concerned about Lizzy when Xander died. I imagine a lot of people in your line of work are almost immune to that kind of stuff, but you stayed with Lizzy and looked out for her. She reminded you of your momma, didn’t she?”
The muscles in my shoulders tense up, but I don’t answer her or even look her way, there’s no need.
“And…what happened to your dad…it’s why you decided to become a cop, right?”
I nod this time, but still can’t bring myself to look at her. “Partly, yes.” My chest tightens, and I take in a deep breath to fill my lungs with air before blowing it back out. My parents aren’t my favorite topic. You might say I avoid it because I’ve never really dealt with it. But Lori almost opened up to me today, and if I want her to trust me, I need to be willing to do the same with her. “I knew from an early age I wanted to do something to serve others when I grew up. Like most little boys, I was drawn to the idea of being a fireman, policeman, or doctor. But my mother was a mess when she got the news about my father. She was so lost in her grief, it was like she forgot about me. And there was a policeman, Officer McBride, who looked after me. He made sure I had something to eat and contacted my grandparents. Even after that night, he continued to check in on me because he knew my mother wasn’t herself. Then when she…” I pause, clicking my tongue before clearing my throat because I can’t say the words out loud. “He was the one who responded to my call. So, I guess you could say he inspired me. I wanted to be able to pay it forward one day—to help someone the same way Officer McBride helped me.”
My confession is met with silence, and I’m too nervous to look over at Lori—too terrified of what I might see in her eyes if I do. Instead, as Smashing Pumpkins’ “Cherub Rock” begins playing on the radio, I turn it up hoping to end the conversation, but Lori only turns it right back down.
“For a story to have a happily ever after, the characters must go through and overcome something bad. Otherwise, it’s a flat storyline no one wants to read. It’s those scenes that are hard to read that give a story depth. I think the same can be said for people. It’s the emotional traumas in our lives that make our stories interesting. Each scar they leave behind is a building block for our character.”
As my eyes slide over in her direction, she meets my gaze. Lori and I shared this deep moment, and I can’t help smiling at her. She didn’t hide behind some sarcastic comment or shut down altogether. She’s finally letting me in.
She groans, rolling her eyes as her cheeks flush. “Oh, stop grinning at me like an idiot before you blind someone with that smile of yours.”
I laugh, but it quickly fades once I realize my time with her is coming to an end. Today has been great, even though we spent most of it running errands with Gram. I finally feel like I’m getting to know her, and I’m not ready to give that up.
“How badly do you want to go home? I’d like to show you something, if you’re up for it.”
My eyes move back to the road as her cheeks begin to color and she clears her throat. “Well, I don’t know. What is it you want to show me? I mean, I haven’t showered and I’m still wearing my clothes from last night. I must look awful.”
Sniggering, I shake my head and turn my gaze back to her. Her hair is a moppy mess on her head, and she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup. She looks beautiful, and I want to tell her that so badly, but I know I shouldn’t. “Don’t worry. Doesn’t matter where we’re going.”
She pouts and moans, but I can see the amusement in her eyes. “Fine.”