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“He’s been diagnosed with dementia. I have to take care of him, but I travel a lot for work, and I need to move him somewhere they can look after him. But it has to be a home—not just a place, does that make sense?”
Gran’s lined face was solemn. “I do understand that. I’ve had friends in the same situation. What does your dad think?”
“He’s scared. He knows he isn’t always tracking lately.” My chest hurt when I talked about what was happening to my dad.
“Of course he’s scared. And so are you.” Gran’s bright eyes held mine. “There are very nice communities, though.”
“Yes,” I agreed, trying to sound optimistic about the place Dad and I had chosen in Los Angeles. “The good ones are really expensive.”
“No problem for a movie star, though?” Her voice suggested she might know it was going to be a leap.
“This star hasn’t been much of a star for a while,” I said, feeling the pressure this situation was causing, the need to push my name back up the list of viable leading men. “But I’ll figure it out.”
“There’s a very nice place here, too,” Gran said, glancing at her screen. “I visit one of my good friends there. I’d imagine such places are less expensive here than in a place like Los Angeles, but what do I know?”
“I’m starting to think you know a lot,” I told her.
She tilted her head then, her eyes widening as her hands folded on her lap, little wrinkled fingers working together. “You have a lot on your plate. And what about my granddaughter, Tess?”
I dropped her gaze, staring down at my own hands. “I’d really like to be with Tess.” I risked a look back up at the old lined face. She was smiling.
“But …?”
“But I think my life is too complicated for her.”
“Un-complicate it.”
If only it was that simple. “I want to. I want it more than anything … but she … I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t believe me.”
“Seeing is believing, Ryan. Show her you’re serious.”
“I tried, I mean, I want to try.”
“Do or do not. There is no try.”
“Yoda? Seriously?” I laughed.
“People say we look alike,” she said, pursing her lips and lowering her chin in a little pose.
“No they don’t,” I said, grinning and relieved to feel lighter suddenly, less burdened.
“Maybe not, but Yoda was wise,” she told me. “And he knew how to deliver the sagey oracle shit with panache.” She turned her chair back to face the computer screen, where her character stood still, waiting for her to return.
I watched as she pulled the headset back on and leaned forward, her hand on the mouse and the other on the keyboard. Her Paladin ran forward, and for a while I just sat, watching the young strong version of Granny on the screen moving over endless green hilltops in a fantasy world where she could go wherever she pleased, do whatever she wanted. But watching made me feel tired—Warcraft was one quest after another. Each achievement was just a key to unlocking harder challenges. There was really no rest, no end.
In some ways, wasn’t that what my life was like now? Roaming endlessly, moving from one thing to another?
I wanted solidity and permanence. I wanted more.
I said goodnight to Granny and went up to my room, set up my laptop and opened a browser. An idea had been brewing in my mind, and the more I thought about Granny, about Warcraft, the more exhausted I felt. I wanted something else. Something real.
Chapter Sixteen
Tess
Sleep was like an old trusted friend who was on some exotic vacation texting you selfies with tropical umbrella drinks and hot dive instructors just when you needed her most.
Bitch.
