Page 114 of Elevator Pitch

“You know, after everything your mother and I endured, we understood there were more important things than our children getting married and having children of their own. So, after you got your diploma and told us you were getting married, it surprised us because you hadn’t even lived yet. We really hoped that you would just wait, but you eloped.”

I snort, “Well, part of growing up is doing the opposite of what your parents tell you to do.”

“I wish we knew that ten years ago.”

We’re cackling together and it feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I can imagine he feels it too. I hate knowing that he’s been holding onto that for so long.

“Our parents didn’t know about our fertility issues, and we didn’t feel comfortable telling them because they would’ve suggested herbal medicine. We tried that and needed more help. IVF was still new, and we were nervous. Infertility changed your eomma and I, but we got our boys. I know we were hard on you, but we just wanted you and your brother to have a good life. I hope that you’re truly happy and don’t resent us. Are you happy, Greyson?”

I take a moment to consider before answering.

This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s all I ever wanted for you. I love you, aduel.”

I can’t remember the last time he said that to me, and I cherish it.

“I love you too, Appa.”

When we get to the dog park, I give Clifford water and once we hit the grass, he takes off to make new friends. Dad and I find a nice place to sit in the shade with our milkshakes and watch him play. Dad shocks me when he suggests he and mom should get a dog, preferably one that doesn’t shed. I always assumed they didn’t like them because they didn’t let us have one growing up. He shares that they love Cliff, and they always loved dogs, but with everything they were facing over the years, it would’ve been more responsibility. I mention that mom could talk it over in therapy, but an emotional support animal might be good for her. We talk about Clifford and how helpful he was for me, while he isn’t an ESA, he saved my life and I’m grateful for him.

We discuss therapy more in depth and I learn a lot about how it’s been helpful for my mom and their marriage.

“Do you go to therapy?” he asks.

“No, I should though. I’m considering it after hearing that mom goes.”

“Well, I go. That’s the only way she’d agree to it,” he says with a chortle.

That surprises me, but I’m proud of him. I won’t say it out loud because I don’t want him to be embarrassed.

“Eomma is clever. I should’ve known something was up when you started talking. This is by far the most you’ve spoken to me in thirty-two years.”

We burst into laughter.

“So, about that pretty woman in your apartment. She looked awfully cozy to be yourneighbor.” He makes air quotes around the word neighbor.

“Appa, don’t start.”

He gives me a side eye over his glasses. “I’m starting.”

I let out a deep sigh because I knew it was coming.

“Does she know how you feel?”

“No,” I sigh.

“I had a feeling. I never stopped looking at your eomma like that.”

I’m taken aback by that and I’m not sure where he got that assumption after being around us for a few minutes.

“How do I look at her?”

“Like if you blink, she’ll disappear. You look at her like you’ve found the peace you’ve been looking for all this time.”

My eyes well up and I try to blink the emotion away. I put my face in my hands, trying to avoid crying in front of him.

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