Page 9 of Truck Me
The silence I so desperately want to hang onto only lasts for about two minutes before Mrs. Engle starts. “Heard Charlotte Weber is back in town. Everyone says she came to help with her dad. That poor, poor family. It’s got to be so hard dealing with dementia. Such a horrible disease. And after the way they lost Carol. She was so young. I can’t imagine losing a child and having to raise a grandbaby with no clue who the father is. I mean, Carol keeping that secret was bad enough. Then she had to go and die like that. So unexpected.”
“I’m sure Carol had her reasons. Besides, Rayne is a great kid.” I add that last part, hoping to redirect this conversation.
“Oh, yes. Rayne is just darling. And a blessing to that family. I don’t know how Lois is handling it all. She has enough to worry about with Jim. She doesn’t need Charlotte’s problems too, on top of everything else. I would just die if one of my kids embarrassed me like that. Not that it was Charlotte’s fault, but still. I can’t believe—”
“This should hold you for a few more months.” I cut her off. I have no clue what happened to Charlotte, and I don’t care. It’s not my business. Besides, the less I know about her, the better.
“Oh, well. Thank you, Garret.” She pushes to her feet and comes over to test the chair. Apparently happy, she pats my cheek. “You’re such a sweet boy. Your Grams must be so proud.”
I fight to hold back my groan. I hate when she talks to me like I’m twelve.
“And you’re past due for a haircut.” She adds as she rushes to her desk to grab her appointment book. “Let’s make you an appointment for next week. I think I have a spot open.”
“I’m busy,” I say as I zip my tool bag closed and start for the door.
“But you don’t even know when it is.”
“Still busy.”
“The following week then.” She continues flipping through her appointment book as if I didn’t just tell her I’m busy. She acts like she’s oblivious to my objections, but it’s just that, an act. “I’ll just pencil you in, and then let you know when it is. Don’t want that hair covering your ears, now do we?”
“Fine,” I grumble. No use arguing with her. She’s going to write me down whether I like it or not. “Got another job. Have a nice day, Mrs. Engle.”
“You too. Thanks again.” She calls long after I step outside. Just when I think I made an escape, she sticks her head outside and calls out. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I’ll call you with the day and time of your appointment. I’ll be sure to let your Grams know when it is too. She’ll make sure you don’t miss it.”
And there it is. The reason I’ll be here for that damn appointment. I hate that Mrs. Engle uses Grams against me. Anyone who knows me knows I’ll never say no to Grams.
Chapter 3
When life gives you lemons, hide in a dark hallway and cry your eyes out.
Charlotte
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” Mom leans against the counter by the sink, where I’m keeping myself busy washing up the morning dishes.
“What happened with what?” I play dumb. The collapse of my life is not a topic I’m ready to discuss.
“You know what, Char. With Brad. Your job. I thought you two were going to get married.”
I pick up a mug and give it a good rinse before placing it in the dishwasher. “Didn’t you read the gossip rags? It was plastered all over Chicago’s Lifestyle pages. Even a few national tabloids picked it up.”
“I don’t read those things.” She huffs. “I’ve heard talk, but I’ve tried not to listen to it. Call me crazy, but I’d rather hear about my daughter’s life directly from her.”
Her voice cracks at the end, and it makes me feel worse than I already do.
After losing Carol, I checked out of this family. Carol wasn’t just my sister. She was my best friend. I nearly lost myself when we lost her. I met Brad shortly after that, and he saved me. And in a way, I saved him too. We were both broken and in need of fixing. Now, I realize I was just a stupid girl with a broken, empty heart, desperate to mend it and fill it back up. Brad did that for me until … Well, until he didn’t.
I close my eyes and sigh, taking in a few deep breaths before I respond. “I’m not ready, Mom. Just give me a little more time. It’s still too fresh.”
I feel her eyes on me, but I keep my focus on the last of the dishes. Once this chore is done, I’ll make my escape and avoid this conversation for another day. Or year. Better yet, let’s just pretend none of it happened.
“Just tell me if it’s fixable.” Mom brushes a strand of my long dark hair behind my shoulder. “Are you going to get back together with him?”
I snort. “Highly unlikely.”
I wouldn’t take Brad back if he was the last man on earth. Not after what he did to me.
Cheating on me was bad enough but telling me in a very public way was cruel and unnecessary. Why couldn’t he be like other men and just let me find out by accident or catch him in the act? In private. That still would have hurt, but at least then I’d have my job. Maybe.