Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
That doesn’t mean I’m leaving tomorrow. But it means I’m accepting her wishes, too. Accepting her wisdom.
With caveats.
Major caveats.
I step into the kitchen.
Fern and North look up from their spot at the kitchen table. They’re playing Five Hundred Rummy and, as usual, North is losing. Fern is a shark.
Grandma is at the counter, fixing a pot of tea.
Everyone is shocked I’m here.
“River, sweetheart, have a seat.” Grandma motions to the small table. “Help North win a few rounds.”
“Hey!” North pouts, but she still stands and pulls me into a hug. “You look like shit.”
“Worse, actually,” Fern says. “How was Palm Springs?”
“It was obviously bad,” North says. “Look at him.”
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Grandma asks.
“Deanna ended things,” I say.
The room falls silent. Everyone guessed that, maybe, but guessing is different from knowing.
I sit. I let Grandma fix me a cup of tea. I let my sisters offer generic condolences for a few minutes. Then a few more. Long enough to drink the entire mug of milky English Breakfast and request another.
Then I launch my counterattack. “We have a deal, Grandma.”
She sits across from me and folds her hands in her lap. In her silk blouse and wide-leg pants, she looks like an executive in a Nancy Meyers movie. “Did you try your best?”
“I think so, but you can send her a questionnaire if you’d like proof.” I take another sip as I consider my argument. “You’re not supposed to argue if I stay.”
She nods that is the deal.
“And I will stay, through your first round of treatment,” I say. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
Fern and North share a look, but they don’t say anything.
“After that, if you’re doing well, if Fern and North believe they have this covered, I’ll go back to New York,” I say.
Grandma doesn’t manage to hide her smile. “Great.”
“With conditions,” I say.
“Of course.” She motions for me to continue.
“Three visits a year,” I say. “At least one here and one there, if you can manage the trip.”
She nods. “Doable.”
“Complete honesty about your treatment,” I say.
“Sure,” she says.
“And you invest in my new company,” I say. “My own press.”
Grandma lights up.
See, that’s the trick. She wants this more than I do.
“Of course,” she says. “But I have a condition of my own.”
“You’re not in a position to make demands,” I say.
“Come on, River, you’d really deny a sick woman?” Fern asks.
“That’s messed up,” North agrees.
This is how it always works. Three against one.
“Do you love Deanna?” Grandma asks.
“Obviously he loves her!” North motions to my face. “Look at him. He looks like he got hit by a truck.”
“Three trucks,” Fern says.
“I really appreciate your support,” I deadpan.
They both smile.
“You need to fight for her,” Grandma says.
“I’m not a fighter.”
“You are, though,” she says. “You fight me about staying here. You fight your sisters about…everything. You fight for what you want, you just do it differently.”
“Yeah, did you tell her you love her?” North asks, as if it’s that simple.
“I did. But we have different ideas of what love means.”
North and Fern share a knowing look.
“What?” I ask.
“You’ve grown up so much, River,” Fern says. “You don’t have the same naive view of the world. You’ve even let go of certain old fixations.”
She means Lexi. We all know it without her saying it.
“But you’re as starry-eyed about love as Fern was,” North says. “You want to run away, because she has doubts.”
Deanna’s doubts hurt, yes, but it’s not that simple. “We’re adults. I respect her choices,” I say.
“Do you, though?” Fern asks. “Do you really agree with her reasons? Her logic? I’m sure she came at you with logic. It’s not like she said, sorry, River, we can’t work out because you didn’t send me enough roses.”
No. I don’t agree with her logic. “So, what, I need to drop my naive ideas of romance to commit to a grand gesture? That’s growth?”
“Not a River kind of gesture. You’re not going to run to the airport,” Fern says.
“Or write her name in the sky,” North says.
“Actually, that would be sweet,” Fern says.
North motions see what I mean. She’s right. Fern is like me. She still holds onto a lot of her romantic ideas.
“You need to let go of things going your way. You need to let go of your need for perfect, pure, doubt-free love. You can’t expect that from someone else. You can’t expect them to feel the way you do. You need to stop arguing with your heart and start using your brain,” North says.
“Cold, hard facts. That’s what Deanna respects.” North looks to Grandma. “Right, Grandma?”
“It’s a smart plan, but it’s River’s choice,” Grandma says. “We need to respect his choices, even when he makes them incorrectly.”
That’s unfair, but I know better than to argue. The women in my life double down when met with any debate.
It’s better to act disinterested or let them believe they’re right. But this time…