Page 74 of Broken Play
Paulina smiles. "You remind me of my grandmother. She loves to cook."
"Whatever your coaches say about carbohydrates, you need them. Athletes need carbs. All this new-age stuff just confuses people. Everything I make is from scratch. I raise my own chickens, grow our grain, and buy the bananas at the market."
Granny's house isn't huge, but it's a four-bedroom ranch with two baths that was built in the sixties.
"Do you need help?" Sutton asks.
"I'd love some. Greyson, why don't you take Paulina to see the animals while we get the food on the table?"
A warmth like caramel flows through me, knowing thatmy granny wants to spend some time alone with Sutton. "Okay, kiddo, let's go."
Paulina grabs my hand, unsure whether to let go as I lead her to the chicken coop and pigpen. She's twelve, with a mop of dark hair pulled back from her coffee-colored eyes, laced with uncertainty whenever she whirls around to stare at something new.
"Look, Greyson! Real chickens!" Her accent laces every word with surprise and awe. When a pig shuffles by, she claps her hands, the sound ringing out over the noisy barnyard. Two barn cats wind around her legs, and she squeals, dropping to her knees in the dirt, unbothered by the mess. She strokes the cinnamon one, but the tabby cat remains suspicious of us. I realize, watching her, how much wonder one afternoon can hold.
"I won't hurt you," she says to the cat. "Do they have names?"
"It's been a long time since I've been here. Two summers ago."
"Why wouldn't you be with your granny all the time?"
I lean my elbows on the fence to the pigpen. "When you're a professional athlete, you don't have much time."
She looks up at me with those doe eyes. "I didn't want to leave Poland. My grandparents made me, and now..." She sniffles, trying to hold back tears.
Since Paulina is here, Sutton hasn't filled me in on how they're recovering. "Are they getting better?"
Lifting her shoulders, she runs her fingers through the cat's fur. "Don't know."
"I want to show you something." I help her up and walk to the paddock where the alpacas are turned out. "I lost mymom when I was just a few years older than you. It was hard. Still is." I tilt my head, glancing at her. "I'm sorry you lost your mom and dad. It sucks."
Tears begin to rain down her face, and I'm not expecting her to pivot when she wraps her tiny limbs around my waist and buries her head in my stomach. "Why doesn't anyone stick around for me?"
I rub her back and return the same amount of pressure in my hug that she's giving me. I realize why Sutton has created a bond with her—they both feel abandoned even though their parents or grandparents were doing what they thought was right, wanting them to achieve their dreams. But is living at a tennis academy her dream? So many thoughts swirl through my head, but for now I keep them to myself.
My grandmother rings an old dinner bell on the porch. She does the same when she feeds the ranch hands, but they probably ate earlier. Paulina laughs. "What is that?"
"It means it's lunchtime. Haven't you seen an old Western movie?"
Her head shakes back and forth vigorously.
"Well, we'll have a movie night soon when Sutton can." I can't quite believe the words coming out of my mouth. What is wrong with me?
"Wash up," Granny says as we come through the screen door.
Sutton grins from ear to ear as Paulina washes her hands over the kitchen sink, and I follow suit. We sit, and Granny blesses the food.
Paulina tears off a piece of banana bread, hesitant to put it in her mouth. "It won't bite you," I say. "You're the bravest little girl I know."
She smirks. "How many little girls do you know?"
"Well, I have one sister."
"Is she a preteen like me?"
"No, you've met Noelle."
She studies the banana bread as if it's an alien object, then sinks her teeth into it, closing her eyes as she lets out a delicious "Yum."
