"I deserve to hear that, Raine. I screwed up big time. I did." Granddad looks down to his folded hands, hanging his head with shame. "I can't even say I'm sorry because it won't do a damn thing to fix this."
I want to ask him where I'll go. Who the hell is going to be my guardian for the year until I'm eighteen? That should be the least of my worries right now. The one man—the one person who didn't let me down in life, is about to drop me on my ass. I never took him for granted. From a young age, I morbidly understood the life I was supposed to have, and I understood the life he saved me from having. No grandparent should have to raise a kid when they're in their sixties. He did his time, and it was supposed to be the golden years for him. Instead, he spent all of those golden years raising me, giving me everything a person could give another, and truly being the father I never had.
"We should get a second opinion," I tell him.
"Raine," he says, grabbing my arm. He pulls me back to my seat and forces me to look at him. "Listen to me, grandson. We don't have a say this time, okay? I've spent the last two weeks scared out of my mind, coming up with end of life plans, hoping I wouldn't need them, but as it turns out…I do."
"End of life plans? What the hell—"
Granddad clears his throat. "Let me finish, Raine."He tries to smile through the evident fear draining the color on his face."You know you're never going to have to worry about money, okay? You, Lenore, and Lauren are the only people in my will, and y’all will be taken care of. You won't ever need a thing. You won't even have to work if you don't want to, but I want you to work, Raine. You understand? It's a part of life."
"Do we have to do this now?" I ask him. I have to digest this or something. This is all too much.
"Yes, we do. I have up to a month, which means I could drop dead tomorrow. So, we're doing this now." Each of his words comes out as if he's telling me we lost the football game this week. "Anyway, since I'm not going to make it to your eighteenth birthday, Lenore is going to take care of you here in the house until then. Once you turn eighteen, you’ll have money—this house, my cars. Everything. But," he says, emphasizing the word strongly. "I need to finish raising you right, up until the day you turn eighteen, whether I'm here or not. So, with that being the case, the only thing you need to promise me right now is that you'll stay in school. Don't run away or do anything to get yourself in any trouble. You can do that for me, right?" He knows I'd never do anything different.
"Granddad, I won't let you down."
"I know you won't, Raine, because you turned out to be one hell of a man."
The sunstill looks the same as I remember it did when I stayed at this motel all those nights before prison. The white blinds are tarnished and old, which makes them look yellow at this time in the morning because of the sun's angle. I turn over, finding Crystal still passed out in the same spot I left her last night. I pull out my wallet and throw twenty of my last thirty bucks on the nightstand for the motel room, and the services she rendered last night. I figure I better keep on her good side, in case I need to crash with her again.
Careful not to make a sound, I slip on my clothes and carry my boots outside so I don't chance waking her up. Ignoring the old butts and wet puddles on the cement stairs, I pad barefoot down to the parking lot and drop down on the bottom step to put on my socks and boots. After I tie up the laces, I look up, finding the aftermath of last night's typical parking lot brawl.
Broken glass is everywhere, mixed in with a shit ton of trash.That blows.As my gaze drifts across the lot, I see Kacee sweeping up the mess in front of the bar. Debating for only a second whether I should say hi or not, I make my way over to her. "Need any help?"
"Raine Carson?" she says with very little surprise. "Is it really you?" She sounds weird asking me this, like she knows it’s me but trying to pretend she isn’t sure about it at the same time.
"Um, yeah, it's...me. I was wondering if you didn't recognize me last night," I tell her, taking the broom from her hands.
"I honestly wasn’t sure if it was you last night...you look...so different.” She cracks her neck from side to side while folding her arms across her chest. "Crow is going to flip a nut when he hears you're out."
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be real disappointed to hear the news." Not doing much to conceal my feelings about Crow and the way we left things after he kicked me out, I continue sweeping a mound of glass into the growing pile.
"You kidding me?" she says. "He felt like the biggest asshole in the world when he heard the news about you being arrested."
"He never came to visit or anything," I say, calling her bluff.
"Yeah, I know. He couldn't get himself to face you after kicking you out on your ass." That sounds more like the Crow I remember.
"Where is the douchebag?" I ask.
"Fixing a few stools in the bar," she says, nodding her head toward the door. "I'm going to go give him the heads up you’re back. Give me a two-minute head start."
“Sure.” I keep sweeping until I’m adding dirt to the pile, but it seems like not even a minute goes by before the side door of bar door swings back open. Crow, with an additional thirty pounds of muscle and a thick black beard, which seems to have stolen every piece of hair from his head, stalks toward me like he's going to kill me. The guy's arms are around me before I can get a word out, and he's squeezing me harder than necessary. I think I even hear a faint cry hiccupping in his throat. His hands lock around my arms, and he shoves me away, looking me square in the face. "You motherfucker," he says. "I can't believe you're standing in front of me right now."
"There were plenty of days over the past seven years when I didn't think I'd ever be standing outside of those walls again, so I feel the same way."
"I'm sorry, man. I don't expect you to forgive the asshole I was, but I am sorry. Like from the bottom of my heart and shit."
"You don't have to be," I tell him. "You got the girl; we're good." I smirk and punch him in the shoulder.
"Married for five years now with two kids. Hard to believe, huh?"
"You have kids?" I know I shouldn't laugh at my own question, but for the life of me, I can't picture Crow holding a baby.
"Two little girls. Anna and Emma. They're three and four."
"Well, I'll be damned. Congrats, man. Really, I'm happy for you both."
