Page 80 of Every Chance After

Marina gives me a curious look as if registering my shadow level. Then, she turns to my sister with a brimming smile. “That’s because I’m his sunshiny nemesis, determined to get him tolighten up.”

Marigold’s lips twitch with a smirk. “He needs to lighten up.”

“Exactly.” Marina meets Marigold in the hall. “Grady’s taking me home, but let’s do a game night soon. Will you let me know when you’re free?”

“Thursday.”

“Thursday, then. Can you drop her off around seven?”

“She has a car,” I report, “when she feels comfortable driving it.”

“I’ll drive. I’ve been to Marnie’s place, so I know where I’m going.”

“Purr-fect.” Marina giggles, prompting Marigold to do the same.

Marina rounds the room, beaming with friendliness—a different woman than the one who scurried into the bathroom. She’s even nice to Colin, though his sheepish look assures me that Mom and Elena had words with him in our absence.

She moves slowly to the car, her cane crunching against the driveway. “You aren’t an old man, Grady.”

Exhaustion laces her words like she’s almost too worn out to say them.

Starting the engine, my shoulders slump. Before I can defend my statement, she speaks again.

“But, I understand why you might feel like one,” she says. “You’re the go-to guy for everything—I know what that’s like. Do you ever just stop and hang out with them?”

“They want me to hang out. I don’t have the time or patience for it.” I pull out onto the main road and head to her place, which isn’t far but feels a world away.

“Why are you their go-to guy for everything?”

“That’s the curse of being the oldest, taking care of the others. But it’s more than that… Dad wanted me to take over the farm when I left school, but my ex-wife, Emma, wanted the city. Emma didn’t work out. Neither did the city. A week after I came back home, I found Dad in the barn in cardiac arrest. He would’ve died if I hadn’t been there. So, now, I’m always there.”

Her nod draws my eye, but she doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“There, but not present,” she decides. “That’s a ginormous amount of pressure to put on yourself.”

I turn onto Seagrove’s Main Street, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I fucked up my marriage. Nearly lost Dad. I refuse to let anything else slip through my fingers.”

“So, you catch everyone. Who catches you?”

I don’t have an answer.

“No wonder you’re exhausted.”

“I’m okay. I have nothing to complain about.” My eyes cut to her, sitting sideways in the passenger seat. “You do, though. Want to vent? About the house?”

She groans. “I’ve nothing to complain about, either. What’s the point?”

“Might feel good to tap into some rage, scream into the void, and exercise creative cursing.”

She laughs. “How very pirate-like.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it. You can’t be everybody’s sweetheart all the time.Thatwould be exhausting.”

“Eh, I’m an endless fountain of energy… usually. You’ll see.”

“Can’t wait,” I say. “What’re you doing tomorrow? Working?”

“No, but crafting my resignation letter is on my list.”

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