Page 81 of Feels Like Falling
BLAKE: Debatable
ELLISON: Brat
BLAKE: That’s a given
BLAKE: You owe me a phone call once things settle down
BLAKE: I have QUESTIONS
ELLISON: Yes dear
BLAKE: Take care of yourself and I’ll let you know if I hear anything else about your mother
ELLISON: Thanks, I definitely owe you for that
BLAKE: I’m glad you said it
I snortand toss my phone aside, trying to wedge the plants together without making more of a mess.
The sound of an ATV cuts me off as another slew of curses bursts from my mouth. Sighing, I drop the trowel and wipe my hands on my shorts before standing as Grandad pulls up to the cottage and lumbers over to me, a reusable shopping bag in his hand.
“Does Montana know you took that out for a spin?” I ask even though saying his name physically hurts.
“Ah, I see you’re also enjoying this beautiful summer evening,” he says with a chuckle as he eyes my dirt-stained clothes and steers me toward the patio chair. He waits for me to sit before taking his own, his eyebrows inching up like he thought I’d put up more of a fight.
But I don’t have it in me—not today.
Pulling two bottles of soda from the bag, he twists off the top before handing one to me, the glass still cold against my hand, and I smile.
“You know I only ever drank these here.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I guess I aways thought they tasted different. Like after a long day’s work this was the ultimate reward—tasted colder and more refreshing than just picking it up at the store. I’ve never been able to replicate that feeling anywhere else.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts—mine most likely spiraling faster than his.
“Do you think he should be the one to apologize?” Grandad says slowly. “Or is it you?”
Opening my mouth, I’m about to respond when something stops me, a lot of somethings. I’d been so wrapped up in my own world and my own grievances with my family. I’d been relying on Montana to help shoulder the burden—be my knight in shining armor.
But did I ever try to be his? Had I always just assumed he was invincible? Like he was strong enough to withstand the darkness of the world I’d grown up in?
He’s your father, Ellison. You can’t understand that level of rejection.
“I don’t know,” I say finally, and Grandad nods before turning to look at me. His smile is soft, understanding, and I feel the fragile curtain I’d hung start to fall under his kind eyes.
“I hate seein’ my two favorite people so upset.”
“I know, Grandad, but—” He waves me off and I swallow the half-hearted excuse I was going to give him.
“Montana told you about goin’ to see your daddy?” he asks and I nod. “It was a long time before he was ready to talk about it. Years. He turned to the farm, working the land, building a legacy away from prying eyes. Just waiting to be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For you.” He lets the words hang between us. “Didn’t think it’d take this long though.”
“He pulled away and it hurt. I was away at school and missed him so damn much. I wanted to transfer home but…”
