“Taking the technology from Del Fray and implementing it in our overseas plant where we have top-of-the-line equipment reduced our expenses almost thirty percent. We didn’t buy the company for the workers. We wanted the patents for the technology.”
“So that’s it? You trade lives for a tiny piece of plastic? It’s about the money?”
“Yes.” His eyes open wide like I understand now. It must make perfect sense to him. “That’s what I’m expected to do. It’s why my grandfather put me in this position.”
“I’ve met your grandfather. I doubt ruining the lives of your new workers were part of his instructions. You bought the company. You bought them too. They’re your concern now. I’m expected to keep my kids in school and off the streets. Two things you madeimpossible.”
Grant reaches out a hand, and I step back twice. Inside I’m torn. My heart splinters. I want nothing more than to run to him and let him embrace me in a hug that will solve my problems.
But this time Grant is the problem. His hands no longer represent comfort, only pain and hurt. He’s no different from the other people who promised to keep me safe in the past.
“Do you care at all?” I try one last time. Fingers crossed he’ll tell me it was a horrible joke or a colossal misunderstanding.
That he knows better. The Grant Moore who played basketball for four hours in my gym would never do something so disastrous to the families I’ve pledged to support.
The reassurance never comes.
His eyes narrow in question and he studies me. Like he can’t figure out what the problem is. My heart cracks and I stare into his blue eyes imploring him to do the right thing.
“Of course.” I suck in a breath at his words. “I don’t want to make your job harder.”
“The kids, Grant!”
With my heart crushed — it couldn’t be worse if he tore it from my chest and threw it on the sidewalk — I give up hope. Grant and I are from different sides of the track. Different worlds. Two completely different existences that so happen to take up space on the same little city on the bay.
“These are people. How will they feed their children?”
The rain picks up, becoming more than the occasional San Francisco afternoon shower. As the cold droplets hit my head and run down my face, I don’t move to wipe them away. They hide the tears tracking beside them.
Grant reaches out once again and waves me under the awning he’s taken refuge under. But I shake my head refusing the offer. When his fingertips graze my shoulder, I bat his hands away and take another step back.
“Why? Why would you do it? Did one of your friends want a new yacht?” I’m yelling again… or still. I’m not sure if I ever stopped.
Through his actions Grant became the exact person he promised he wasn’t. I can’t process the changes happening to my world. Here, on the sidewalk in front of a Mexican restaurant on the east side, I lose hope for Grant and me.
“People get new jobs, Clare.”
“Where?” I scream the words, thankful no one else is on the sidewalk in this rain. “With five, ten, fifteen years’ seniority? Benefits? You’re blind to the world around you.”
“You’re the one having trouble seeing how life works.”
“You’re right.” I take another step back, my head shaking in disbelief even with the evidence in front of me. “You definitely had me fooled.”
He blinks twice and shakes his head in slow motion. It’s like I see the wheels of his brain turning when he figures out exactly what I’m here to do. “What are you saying?”
“It’s over.” Raindrops hit the pavement louder, each one sounding like small doors slamming closed on our relationship.
The door to my possible future with Grant. Slam.
The door to Travis’ college education. Slam.
The opportunities for this generation and next in Hunter’s Point. Slam.
“Don’t do this, Clare.” Grant’s face pinches together. His lips squeeze tight, forming a straight line as his head continues to shake back and forth.
“It’s already done.” My body doesn’t want to force the oxygen from my lungs, but I say the words breathlessly. “I can’t do this.”
Grant takes a step toward me as I step back. Our own choreographed dance of death. “Don’t leave me. Not like this.”
