“Maybe you could step up a little. At work.” Cinderella telling Prince Charming to get off his horse and clean the stables.
“There’s more to life than business.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Ouch. Outside it was raining, pattering on the roof, splashing in the street. “All I’m saying is, your grandfather’s not getting any younger. And now that he’s had a stroke...”
“Granddad’s fine.” Trey’s voice was flat and hard.
O-kay. I needed to let this go. His parents had bothdied. He didn’t need me to remind him that his beloved grandfather had recently, er, suffered a major health event.
I wanted to be seen, I’d told Beth. I wanted to be heard. Time for a little honesty, maybe.
“He’s making wonderful progress,” I said gently. “But maybe if you were more focused on work, he could concentrate on getting well.”
“I think I know what my grandfather needs better than you do,” Trey said stiffly.
“He needs you.”
“And your family needs you.”
“Not the same way. You’re a good person, Trey. You’re generous and kind. But you’re wasting your advantages. Being good is not enough. My father was good, and it never got my mother anything but alone. You have to show up.”
“You’re the one who keeps running off. Paris. New York. I’m here. I do everything he asks of me.”
“But you could do more.”
“Look, I owe him. I get it.”
“Not because you owe him. Because you owe this to yourself.” I folded and refolded the napkin in my lap. “Don’t just do what you have to do. Do what you want.”
“It’s not my business. It’s his. It gets along fine without me. You said you’re afraid of failing?” He shook his head. “There’s nowhere for me to go but down.”
“So it’s easier not to try?”
“You don’t understand. I can’t be my grandfather.”
“You don’t have to be. You care about people. You care about this town. You have such a good heart. You’re just...”Afraid to have it broken. Don’t say that. “You just have to be yourself,” I amended. “The man you might and ought to be.”
Silence fell, filled with the hissing of the rain.
He looked at me with those black, black eyes, a twist to his mouth. “Guess I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“It’s not my grandfather I have to prove myself to. It’s you.”
CHAPTER 23
Beth
Here’s the thing about starving yourself.
In the beginning, there’s this sort of honeymoon period, when denying yourself feels really good, when it makes you feel special. In control. It’s only later you realize that you’re not. Your behavior starts to control you. And the things that once attracted you and made you feel good—the hunger, the purging, the compulsive exercise—aren’t working anymore. You hide what’s happening, not for the power your secret gives you, but from shame. On some level, you know what you’re doing is bad for you. Might kill you, even. You’re no longer in love with the shadowland. But by then, you’re afraid to leave.
Like an abusive boyfriend, anorexia owns you.
