Page 27 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
“Hello Grandma,” I say.
I step into the house and give her a hug. I see Ava standing in the kitchen doorway with her mouth hanging open. I step back and point behind me. “The fairy girl is Bek.”
“Hello Bek. It’s good to see you again.”
Bek’s eyes are huge. I don’tknow if she is as terrified as I was the other day when I came alone or if she’s surprised to see Grandma here and helping, but she looks like a deer in the headlights.
“Hi,” she squeaks.
Then I’m equally stunned when Ava’s mom steps out of the kitchen. I just saw her a few short weeks ago, at Joel’s graduation, but she looks a million times stronger and healthier than she did that day. Than she ever has! “Ava, do you think Joel would like these potholders? They have an autumn theme, but we never use them. Right, Mom?”
Grandma turns and glances at them. “Nope. We don’t.”
“Yeah, he’ll probably take them,” Ava says. “He said they hardly have any kitchen stuff.”
I grab Bek’s hand, as much for reassurance that we are together and safe as to pull her out of her shocked stupor. “How can we help?”
Ava’s mom looks up like she’s only just realized we are there. “Hello girls. Thanks for helping Joely.”
Ava’s brother jogs down the stairs. “Hey Bek. Hey Sam. Thanks for coming today.”
We greet him as if we’re all close friends when, in reality, we only know Ava. Because her house has always been off-limits, we don’t even know Joel that well.
He looks at me and makes a face. “Would you mind if we put some stuff in your trunk? Yours is the only other car going over to the apartment.”
Good to know that Mom and Grandma aren’t going over too. “Yeah, no problem.”
“Okay, then come on upstairs with me. I figured my clothes would be easiest. I’ve got most of them shoved into trash bags.”
“Freshly laundered, I hope,” Ava’s mom says. “Since you’ll have to pay to do laundry at the apartment complex.”
“He can do his laundry here,” Grandma mumbles.
Ava and Joel exchange a surprised look before Bek, Ava, and I follow him upstairs.
We find Dylan in Joel’s room manhandling the mattress from the bed to lean it against the closet.
Joel point to several white plastic trash bags lined up against a wall. “I don’t know if you can fit them all into your car, but I’d appreciate as many as you can shove in there.”
“We’ll do what we can,” I say. Ava, Bek, and I grab a couple bags each and head downstairs. Out at my car, I open the trunk and we shove bags inside. There is still enough room for one more, and we might be able to put some loose items on top of the bags and maybe stuff things in between.
After several trips up and down the stairs, we have my car packed with enough room left for the three of us, and Joel’s car is full to bursting with barely enough room left for him and Dylan.
“I did not think you had this much stuff,” I say, as Joel quickly closes the back door of his car to keep everything from falling out.
“I didn’t either. It takes up a lot of room when you pile it all together.” He checks the ropes securing his mattress and box spring to the roof of the car. “I’m glad we don’t have far to drive.”
We all step back inside the house together to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. When Joel jogs down the stairs a final time, his grandmother is waiting for him in much the same way she waited for me when I stopped by for Ava’s pants. He halts in front of her, and the way they look at each other makes my breath hitch. There is so much history and emotion in that shared look. And my conversation with her the other day heightens my emotions. I can see them both blinking back tears. Ava’s mom stands near me in the middle of the living room, wringing her hands as she awaits her turn to say goodbye to her son. I smile to myself when I recognize themotion to be the same thing Grandma did when she nervously talked to me. It seems the two women might be more alike than they recognize.
Once again, I reach for the reassurance of Bek’s hand. Ava stands in front of us, Dylan by her side. He’s got an arm wrapped around her and she’s resting her head on his shoulder. We’re all spellbound by the touching scene in front of us.
“Joel, I’m sorry for the way things turned out,” Grandma says. Her voice is quiet and a little shaky. “I didn’t mean for it to go so badly.”
Joel stares at his feet and nods.
“But I’m proud of the young man you’ve grown into.”
He looks up at her, surprised.
