“Where’s your brother?”
“Not sure.” He spoke quietly as he took his phone out of his pocket, hoping to find a message from Grady. Nothing. He sent him a text message, asking him to call. He waited for the three conversation bubbles to appear; they never did. He typed out a message to his friend Monroe, asking her if she had seen Grady.
Monroe Whitfield had grown up with the twins and had always had a crush on Grady. From early on, when Grady and Austin decided to start a fishing company back in high school, Monroe said she had no plans of ever leaving Cape Harbor, and everyone knew it was because of Grady. Her younger sister, Mila, couldn’t get out of there fast enough. After the accident, Roe tried to fix Grady, show him he could still have a life, but he pushed her aside as he had done to everyone else. Yet, she still lingered, often showing up with him in tow after no one had seen him for a few days. She always knew where to look.
Monroe Whitfield: I haven’t seen him in a few days.
Okay, thanks
Monroe Whitfield: Is everything okay?
Nothing is ever okay, he wanted to say to her.
He’s late for dinner.
Monroe Whitfield: I’ll keep an eye out.
That was precisely what Graham didn’t want her to do, to interrupt her Thanksgiving to look for his drunk-ass, irresponsible brother.
Don’t, Roe. He’s an adult and needs to figure things out on his own. I’ll see you later at B’s.
Monroe sent back a sad-faced emoji, and Graham pocketed his phone. He felt like shit for ruining her holiday, even though she would never admit it to him.
“Maybe Grady should move in with you.”
Graham turned his head slowly until his gaze fell upon his father. “What?” he croaked out. “I don’t have enough room.”
“Move,” his father suggested gruffly. “Grady needs his family to be supportive.”
“What Grady needs is rehab and therapy, and he needs for his parents to accept the fact he’s an alcoholic. Besides, doesn’t he live here?”
“Dinner!” Johanna’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension-filled den. “Come on—come eat.”
Graham didn’t hesitate and followed his mother into the dining room. He sat in his usual spot, across from the empty chair where Grady would sit when he arrived. His mom would sit to his left, with her back facing the kitchen, and his dad would soon be to his right.
Their table was small, fitting the four of them cozily, but add anyone else, and it would feel crowded. The tablecloth was plastic and had turkeys, cornucopias, and leaves printed on it. A plate of sliced turkey sat in the middle of the table, and without giving it much thought, Graham reached for a piece of the crispy baked skin—his favorite.
“Do you want to talk about work?” his mom asked as she set down the bowl of mashed potatoes and took her seat.
“Not really. No offense, but I see you almost every day; I think you know about everything that goes on there.”
“Okay, what about your love life? Ever since the Holmeses became grandparents, I’ve grown rather jealous. I see Linda out and about with Brystol all the time and wonder when I’m going to get the opportunity.”
Graham sat in silence as he listened to his mother’s pleas. At times, he longed for a companion, especially after seeing his best friend Bowie reunite with Brooklyn. He had never given much thought to parenthood, though. Truthfully, none of his friends had. It was almost as if that ship sailed for everyone when Austin died. Somehow, he took a piece of each of them with him, and none of them had ever fully recovered.
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“Maybe you should try a dating app or something,” she suggested with a shrug.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it.” He stopped talking as soon as his father walked into the room. The moment George sat down, it was time to eat. Throughout dinner, his mother sighed, and Graham suspected it was because the chair across from him remained empty.
FIVE
Waking up to the sound of the ocean, the waves crashing against rocks, and the booming echo of the foghorn was a happy reprieve from the normalcy of car horns, screeching tires, and loud voices, most often arguing with someone over a parking spot. It took Renee only a split second for the realization to set in—she was in Cape Harbor, and for the next few days she was Rennie, the outgoing, wild, and fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants person she longed to be in Seattle. Here, among her closest friends, she could be herself and not worry about the facade of being a professional. She could snort at the corny jokes and add her sarcastic two cents when someone talked about their current existential life crisis. Here, a few hours north of her hustle-and-bustle life in Seattle, she was free.