Fallout (81 page)

WE LEAVE THE “HOW”

To the future.

Settle for being together

right now. In this moment.

I’m pretty sure

I won’t see him again for

a while. Maybe a long while.

We’ll celebrate

Christmas safe and warm,

at least. Not buried by snow.

After that,

and after the truth

of our situation emerges,

we’ll just have to see.

GRANDPA SCOTT

Reaches the hospital around ten.

I see him wandering down the corridor,

looking for me. Age has not

much diminished his fair good

looks, and the nurses smile

appreciatively. I nudge Kyle.

“There’s my Grandpa Scott.”

Kyle locks eyes with Grandpa,

who stands outside the door,

assessing.
He doesn’t like me.

“He doesn’t even know you.

How can he not like you?

I mean, he might be a little

annoyed. But he’s here.”

I go give him a giant hug. “Thanks

for coming. Sorry you had to drive

all this way on Christmas.”

He draws back to give me

a good once-over.
Are you

sure you’re okay? We’re just

happy you weren’t hurt.

“I’m fine, Grandpa. Someone

was watching out for us, for sure.”

After quick introductions, Grandpa

excuses himself.
I’ll go take care

of the paperwork. We should

probably hit the highway soon.

Was good meeting you, Kyle.

I don’t want to leave, but I know

I have to go. I give Kyle a long,

sweet kiss. “I wish I could stay, but …”

No. Go on. We’ll talk when you get

back….
He pauses there. Neither

of us knows when or where I’ll get

back to.
Merry Christmas. I love you.

ONE LAST KISS

And without looking back,

I go to find Grandpa.

He’s at the nurses’ station,

where he has dropped a signed

copy of Grandma Marie’s latest

book for Officer Strohmeyer

to come pick up later. I watch

Grandpa Scott totally schmooze

a plus-size nurse with orange

hair.
I’m sure we can find

another copy for you. Write

down your address and I’ll make

sure you get one. I can pull

strings with the author.
He winks,

turns to me.
Ready to go?

Before I know it, we’re out

the door and in Grandpa’s new

Lexus SUV, cruising toward Christmas

dinner, me fiddling with the seat

heat control, mostly because

it gives my hands something

to do besides tremble. By some

unspoken agreement, neither

of us says a word until we’re

well on our way out of town.

THE HIGHWAY IS MOSTLY CLEAR

But Grandpa drives cautiously.

Have to be careful of black ice
,

is his explanation. It is all he says

for a while. But finally he broaches

the necessary inquiry.
So we

hadn’t expected you this year.

And Kristina didn’t know you were

coming either.
He pauses. Waits.

“It was a last-minute decision,”

I try. “We wanted to surprise you.”

You definitely did that.
His voice

is gentle, tinged with humor.
And

you surprised everyone else, too.

We called your dad’s to let him know

you were okay. Someone named

Kortni answered. She said your father

was in jail and as far as she knew
,

you were in a foster home in Fresno.

He lets the weight of his words sink

down around us.
Was she wrong?

OBVIOUSLY HE KNOWS

She wasn’t wrong. And I’m just

too tired of it all to try and make

up a lie. “No. She was right.”

Despite the Lexus’s luxury, I have

become extremely uncomfortable.

Oh, well. Fabrication is useless.

I launch the story, omitting only the parts

about making love beneath the stars

and Kyle’s farewell to the monster.

Grandpa Scott absorbs it all

in silence. When I finish, he thinks

about things, then spends some

time crafting his comments.

Running away is never a good

decision, Summer. There has

to be a better answer, though

to tell you the truth, I’m not sure

what it is. Let’s get through today

as best we can, then make

some decisions tomorrow.

This should be interesting.

I point as we pass the place where

Kyle and I plunged off the highway

yesterday. Last night’s heavy

snowfall has covered most

of the evidence of the accident.

“You can’t even tell it happened,”

I muse. What I don’t say is how

scary that is. If circumstances

were just a little different,

we could still be down there, buried

in a giant snowdrift. Suffocating.

Or left to slow starvation.

Even without my voicing

those thoughts, Grandpa Scott

gets them.
Someone was watching

out for you, all right. You’ve got

something important to do

before you check on out of here.