Page 14 of Eleanor & Grey

He rubbed his hand against his stomach and narrowed his stare. My father had a nice gut on him, and he called it Doritos, after the cause of the creation of said gut. Mom was a vegan and she always tried to get him to go down that line with her, but he was completely against giving up bacon—which I understood.

For the most part, Mom was good at keeping Dad’s diet in check. He’d been pre-diabetic before she’d gotten him to somewhat follow her eating plan. She’d tell him it would make her happy if he had a salad with dinner, so he’d have the salad, because making her happy was his favorite activity.

I always giggled a bit when he’d rub Doritos as he tried to figure something out, as if his belly was a magic lamp with all the answers.

“I just wanted to let you know it’s just you and me for dinner tonight. Your mom’s not feeling great.”

My gut tightened as worry took over. “Oh? Is she okay?”

“Just a little tired.” He smiled. “She’s all right, Ellie. I promise.”

He called me Ellie and not Eleanor, so I believed him.

He scratched his chin. “So, dinner?”

“I can’t tonight. I’m babysitting Molly.” I’d been babysitting Molly Lane twice a week, Mondays and Fridays, for the past few months after school. She was a spunky five-year-old girl who lived a few blocks away, and she kept me on my toes. “I should actually head over there soon.”

“Oh, it is Monday, isn’t it?” He wiggled his nose. “Well, I guess it’s just me, Frasier, and Mickey D’s for dinner tonight.”

“Does Mom know about the McDonalds?” I asked, knowing about Dad’s latest diet plan.

He pulled out his wallet and held up twenty bucks. “Does she have to know about it?”

“Are you bribing me?”

“I don’t know—is it working?”

I walked over and took the money from his grip. “Yup, it sure is.”

He wrapped his hands around my head and kissed my forehead. “I always knew you were my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter.”

“That we know of. There were a lot of rock concerts in the early eighties.”

I rolled my eyes, a small chuckle coming from my lips. “You know Mom will smell the French fries on you. She always does.”

“Some things are worth the risk.” He kissed my forehead one last time. “I’ll see you later. Tell Molly and her parents I said hi!”

“Will do.”

“Love you, Snickers.” He’d nicknamed me after his favorite candy, a term of endearment.

“Love you, too, Dad.”

After he left, I began getting ready to head over to Molly’s. I always took some of the old chapter books I’d loved as a kid to read to her before she went to bed. Molly loved books almost as much as I did, and I secretly felt a bit of jealousy that one day she’d get to read the Harry Potter series for the first time ever.

What I wouldn’t have given to once again experience the feeling of reading those books for the very first time.

Raine, Illinois was split into two parts, divided by a bridge—the east side and the west side. I lived on the west side, but Molly was on the east, off Brent Street. Even though I lived only a few blocks away, once you crossed over the small bridge, you could tell the difference in income level. My family was well-off, but we weren’t as well-off as those east of the bridge.

All the houses on Molly’s block were worth insane amounts of money. They were mansions—really big mansions. Raine was a pretty middle-class town, except for when you walked the east side. It was where all the wealthy people who worked in Chicago, but wanted a semi-suburban lifestyle lived. Mom nannied for families on that side of the bridge, and she made a pretty great income. I swore even the air smelled like hundred-dollar bills. If it hadn’t been for Molly, there would have been no reason I’d ever be caught on that side of town.

“You’re Molly Lane’s babysitter!” a voice shouted as my sneaker landed on the first step of Molly’s porch. I quickly turned to see where it was coming from. Across the street, three houses to the left, stood a boy with a stupid great smile. Greyson waved.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he was waving at me, and for goodness’ sake, he was.

I brushed my hand across the back of my neck and said, “Oh, yeah.”

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