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“No. I agreed to not hate you for one night. So, tell me, what decision did I make?”
Fine. She wanted to play this out. If I was the irresponsible one, then she was the self-absorbed one. “You chose your work instead of our friendship. But I’m over it, Sweeney. So don’t sweat it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She straightened herself up from the couch.
I rubbed my forehead, truly not wanting to get into this. But now that I started it, I had to finish. “Remember my baseball game? You promised you would come, but you stood me up—again. I didn’t know which assignment took priority this time, but it didn’t matter. I was done with you choosing your work over me.”
Her eyes bulged and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stayed like that for a few seconds until she fell forward, laughing. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
I shook my head, confused. “What?”
“You think I didn’t come to your game because I was working on an assignment?”
“Yeah. Just like the last time. That art project you’re so fond of.”
She shook her head. “You selfish, self-centered bastard.”
“Now wait a minute—”
“No, you wait. You never asked me why I didn’t come—”
“I didn’t have to.”
“You never allowed me to explain.”
“I didn’t want to hear it,” I mumbled. When she didn’t continue, I looked up. Tears filled her eyes and her face scrunched up as though she were in pain.
“What is it?”
“Forget it. It doesn’t even matter anymore.” She folded her arms and rocked on the couch.
“Grace,” I whispered.
Her head snapped up and her eyes searched mine. I realized I’d called her by her first name for the first time since that day. “Tell me what happened.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears and one finally escaped, but she shook her head while she wiped it away.
“Please,” I whispered. “I feel like there’s more to this story.”
A wry smile played on her lips, but she didn’t seem amused. I leaned forward and placed my hand on top of hers and rubbed my thumb along her soft skin.
She bit her lip and looked up, trying to stop the other tears from falling. “That night, my mom—” her voice cracked and I squeezed her hand. “I found her in the kitchen. She had passed out. I couldn’t wake her, so I called the ambulance.”
For a second, fear gripped my heart, but scattered as I reassured myself that Grace’s mother was fine. I’d seen her at graduation. “Go on. What happened next?”
“I rode in the ambulance with her. She was so pale and I was terrified as the paramedics put an oxygen mask on her and tried to wake her up. She didn’t open her eyes until we reached the hospital. I was so scared.”
“Of course you were.” Noticing she fought back tears as her face scrunched up, I tried to reassure her. “But she’s okay now.”
“That’s just it,” she said, a tear escaping, but she wiped it with her palm. “That night, they told me my mother’s kidneys aren't functioning properly. She requires special medication and will one day need a transplant. I was old enough to know we didn’t have the money for a transplant.” She dropped her head and I tried to pull her into my arms. She pushed me back and glared at me. “When I tried to tell you about it the next day, all I got was some nonsense about a baseball game. I couldn’t believe you were upset about me missing a game when I thought I would lose my mother.”
I knew what losing a mother and a father felt like, but I didn’t want to dismiss her pain. She was just a child when she found out and she was all alone. I had my brothers. She was supposed to have me, but my head was too far up my ass to see anything but my own problems.
“I’m so sorry, Grace.”
I leaned forward to gather her into my arms. I wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, the words I should have said years ago. But she put her hands up and sniffed. “I’m fine. My mother will be fine, and I don’t need you to comfort me anymore, Luke.”
She was right. That time had passed and I’d missed it.
