“No, it wasn’t. But it was worth it.”
He dumped a handful of sprinkles into the garbage can. “How in the hell did you put yourself through dental hygiene school with a baby?”
“Sleep? I didn’t get any.” I smiled at him and took a seat at the table for a minute. It had been a long day and a draining one. My body felt done. “I had some help from a couple of neighbors, and the school I went to had a daycare program so I could take Charlie there while I was in class. We worked it out.”
“And I was making millions of dollars every year and could have set you and Charlie up, so you didn’t have to worry about a thing.” He shook his head and leaned into the counter.
“It’s okay. I made it. It was important for me to see that I could do it. It was important to know that I could take care of myself because I knew that the only reason I made it out of The Clink was because of you. You got me out of there so I could make it out here.”
Grant’s eyes landed on mine. “You could have told me. If you were worried about me getting in trouble for getting a minor pregnant, you could have told me and we could have kept it quiet.”
“No, we couldn’t have. You and I both know you wouldn’t have been content to make occasional visits to see us and drop a few large bills on the way out. You would have wanted it all. That’s who you are. I knew that if I told you, that’s what I’d have to be prepared to accept.”
He stared off to the side, crossing his arms. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have been content to come in and out of your lives like that. But I’m not saying the way you went about this was the right way either, Ryan.” His body tensed, pulling his T-shirt across the carved planes of his chest. “One minute I’m pissed you cut me out the way you did, and the next one I’m thrilled you let me back in. I feel like I’m on a damn roller coaster over here. So while I’m upside-down, why don’t you just lay the rest of it on me now?”
My heart stalled, but I played it off. “What do you mean?”
His eyes cut to mine. “Don’t play me for a fool. Just tell me.”
Now my heart was hammering too fast, like it was trying to sprout wings so I could fly out of here and escape Grant trying to corner me into this conversation.
Despite knowing this very conversation was the one we needed to have.
As soon as I opened my mouth, he sighed. “What’s going on, Ryan?” he shoved off of the counter and came toward me. “I know you reached out to me now for a reason other than it being the right time. What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? That question kept playing in my head, again and again. What’s wrong?
Everything. Nothing.
Something.
The courage that had been evading me came rushing back all at once. “Gentle version or harsh reality?”
He huffed. “Harsh is the only reality I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t know what to do if someone tried to soften the blow, so just give it to me straight.” He slid his hands into his pockets, taking a deep breath. “I can take it.”
Harsh. It was the only version of reality I’d known too.
Inhaling, my eyes found his. “I’ve got Huntington’s.”
For a minute, his expression was a blank slate, giving nothing away. Then he licked his lips and pulled out the chair beside me. “What does that mean?” he asked slowly, his voice lower than normal. “I’ve heard of it, but right now I couldn’t tell you if it’s a damn cold virus or more along the lines of the bubonic plague.”
I stared at my hands curled in my lap. Ever so slightly, they were trembling. Not enough to draw the attention of anyone else, but enough to remind me of what disease was coiled into my genetic code. Enough to forewarn me of what was to come. “More the latter than the former.”
Grant collapsed in the chair, then scooted it closer. “Explain it to me. Before I lose my mind thinking the worst.”
I meant my smile to be reassuring, but it didn’t fool him.
His face fell at the same time it lost a few shades of color. “Jesus Christ . . .”
“It’s a neurological disorder,” I said, trying to speak as objectively about a topic I felt anything but impartial about. “A degenerative one. There is no cure.”
His eyes narrowed at the floor, but the rest of him remained unchanged. “How long have you known?”
I sucked in a breath. “I found out about a year ago. I guess there were signs that I should have picked up on before, but I just wrote it off as random clumsiness, my mind being distracted, that kind of thing.”
“What are the symptoms?” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “What’s this bastard going to do to you?”