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I knew things were hard here, but I didn’t appreciate just how much she’s been struggling.
Guilt knots up my insides as I think about what a selfish asshole I’ve been recently.
I lost a football game. So fucking what? Effie is losing something so much more important than that.
Seeing Grams today really helped to put things into perspective.
Yeah, losing fucking sucked. Especially knowing that my performance was one of the reasons. But no one died.
I’ll get a chance to try again and redeem myself next year.
Effie isn’t going to get any more time with her grandmother.
A heavy sigh passes my lips, and I try to let go of some of the tension pulling at my muscles.
“There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be,” I say honestly as her breathing gets heavier.
Brushing my thumb over her knuckles, I continue driving in silence, lost in my own thoughts.
I don’t remember my grandparents. Not really.
They were hardly ever around, and when they died, I was too young to understand.
But that’s not the case with Effie and Grams.
For all intents and purposes, Grams was Effie’s mom.
She sure did a hell of a lot more for her than either of her parents did.
My parents might be far from perfect. But at least they’ve always been there for us.
Effie’s parents put her into boarding school and then…left.
Their careers and lavish lifestyle were both more important than their only daughter.
Sadly, it was the same for several kids at our school. But unlike many of them, Effie was lucky enough to have Grams.
She did all the things parents would do. And as our friendship blossomed, she became the grandmother I never had.
After a while, she wouldn’t just turn up to support Effie, but me as well. She’d come to my games when she could. She was there at prom and graduation, clapping just as loudly for me as her own granddaughter.
Pulling up to her house, I kill the engine and sink lower in the seat.
I’ve been here more times than I can count. It feels more like home to me than anywhere I lived with my mom or dad.
It’s the only home I’ve ever known where I feel welcome and relaxed from the second I walk in the front door.
It always smelled of cinnamon, thanks to her almost constant baking. The decorations were soft and cozy, unlike any place I ever lived.
It was like a home you see on the TV with the “perfect” American family.
It was “normal.”
Something that my life never has been.
I was born into wealth. Something I’m very appreciative of.
If it weren’t for the Callahan money, I may not have had the start in life, or the career I have now.