I raised an eyebrow, thinking deeply about what we could watch, and then I parted my lips. “Have you ever heard of a show called Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood?” I asked.
“Nope, and it sounds dumb,” Karla mentioned.
I didn’t take it personally. Teenagers were pretty closed-off to the best parts of the world. I found the show on a streaming network, and played an episode. Karla sighed right away. “Yup, I was right. It’s stupid,” she remarked.
Lorelai echoed her sister. “Yup, stupid,” she exclaimed.
But regardless, they sat there and watched an episode. Then another. And another.
By the fourth episode, the girls had fallen asleep on the floor with each other, snuggled up and completely knocked out from their sugar party.
I grabbed my phone quickly and snapped a few pictures of them, because it was one of those moments that shouldn’t be forgotten.
It was an important one.
Around seven, the front door opened, and I was stunned to see Greyson walking in with his suitcase. He looked over to me, and then to the girls still resting in a pile on the floor.
He raised an eyebrow, then his eyes fell back to me. “Eleanor.”
“Oh, hey, Greyson. What’s up?”
His eyes darted back to the girls, then back to me. “Eleanor.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“Can I have a word in my office?”
He headed off with his suitcase handle still in his hand, and I followed his footsteps, with every nerve in my gut twisting and turning.
He didn’t speak right away, but he did gesture toward a chair, and I sat quickly. I kept fidgeting with my fingers, unsure what to do with my hands. I knew I had been out of line that day. I knew I’d made a lot of mistakes, but truthfully, I didn’t regret it. For the first time in a long time, I had seen Karla smile.
That made it worth it to me.
He set his briefcase down, took off his coat, and then took a seat at his desk.
Still no words.
His hands clasped together, and he took in a deep breath. “I received a call from Mrs. Robertson today.”
“Mrs. Robertson?”
“Caroline Robertson’s mother.”
Oh. That woman.
“Listen, I can explain. I know I snapped, and I’m sorry, but then again, I’m not actually sorry. You know why? Because she and her daughter were both extremely disrespectful toward Lorelai and I stand by everything I said.” I paused. “Well, maybe calling her daughter a little bitch was out of line, but I do stand by the fact that the mother was a bitch. And I’m sorry, but—”
“Eleanor,” Greyson said sternly.
“Yes?”
“You’re rambling.”
“Yes. Sorry. I’m just… I want you to know that even though I know I’m in a lot of trouble, that I stand by it. I stand by my words, and I know it was wrong of me and childish to snap in public, and I know it paints you in a bad light, but I just couldn’t hold it in. I know you’re probably also wondering why there’s a big mess in your living room, and I’m just going to tell you now because whatever, I’m already in trouble, but Karla had a really shitty hard day too, and I took her out of school and we binged Harry Potter movies and ate sugar, and okay, I’m sorry.”
He lowered his brows, staring, not really showing any type of emotion. Not anger, not disappointment—nothing really. I wished he’d stop that. I wished he’d at least give me something to go off of, just a few context clues.
“Thank you,” he finally said.