“Tabitha? I know you’re up there,” Gil called from the bottom of the stairs. “I need you at the counter. Now.”
We hurriedly arranged our clothes and came down blushing. Gil was my dad’s age, balding and paunchy—not a bad guy, but a stickler as a boss. There was nothing he could do to Connor except tell him to get lost. But I was a different story. Once Connor was gone, Gil put me on probation, which meant I’d be fired if I did the slightest thing wrong.
“I’m going to hold off on telling the general manager about the misuse of club facilities. But Jean’s a friend of mine—”
“Oh, no. Please, Gil. Don’t tell her.”
“Of course I’m gonna tell her. I should’ve told her a long time ago. It’s been obvious something was going on, and now it’s gotten out of hand. This is for your own good.”
In the car on the way home that evening, the air was thick as thunderclouds.
“Grandma Jean, Gil said he was going to speak to you. I can explain—”
“Honestly, Tabitha, I can’t discuss this when I’m driving. I’m too upset.”
Grandma Jean’s eyes were red. Had she been crying? I looked out the window, stomach sinking, my eyes prickling, too.
Later that night, I was up to my elbows in soapy water, washing the supper dishes, when she came up beside me. She looked crumpled and soft—wearing a printed housedress and plastic sandals, her iron-gray hair frizzing around her forehead in the humid kitchen.
“Come into the living room. I don’t want Grandpa overhearing this. His heart can’t take it.”
As I dried my hands on a dish towel and followed her, my guilt flowered into resentment. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Having a boyfriend wasn’t a crime. I didn’t need a lecture. But, as she sat down on the sofa and patted the space beside her, the disappointment in her eyes tugged at me.
“Don’t be upset, Grandma. I know what I’m doing. I’ve had health class since middle school.”
Her jaw clenched with determination.
“This isn’t about the facts of life, Tabitha. It’s about the Fords. I know that family, and they’re bad news. You can’t trust them.”
“Connor’s not like the rest of them.”
“My guess, is, when push comes to shove, he is. Exactly like them.”
“You don’t know him. You think he’s some kind of entitled, spoiled brat. But you couldn’t be more wrong. He’s not taking advantage of me. He’s wonderful to me. I love him.”
Her faded blue eyes went wide behind her glasses. “Oh, gosh. This is worse than I thought.”
“It is not. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Because I’m worried about you. I know Nell Ford. She won’t tolerate her family mixing with the likes of us. And she rules those kids with an iron fist.”
“I don’t care what his grandmother is like. I’ve barely said two words to her all summer.”
“Okay, now. Doesn’t that tell you something, that he won’t introduce you to his family?”
That brought me up short.
“He does introduce me. I know his sisters and all his cousins.”
“Know them as friends? Or because you fetch their food and clean up their messes?”
I looked away, flushing. She was right, of course. At six, when the pool closed, the Ford kids would pile into cousin Robbie’s Jeep or cousin Hope’s Land Rover and take off God knows where. I wasn’t invited. That hurt, because wherever they were going—into town, or to the mall, or just home for supper—was sure to be more exciting than anywhere I’d ever been or ever would go. Sometimes I’d pick up extra hours serving dinner in the dining hall. On those nights, I’d look across the lake, see the glow of their firepit and feel the call of everything I was missing. Marshmallow roasts. Beers and joints getting passed around if their grandmother wasn’t at home. Connor and Robbie strumming their guitars. The girl cousins in their cutoffs and Birkenstocks and fishermen sweaters, flipping their broom-straight hair and laughing throaty laughs at the boys’ jokes. The boy cousins deigned to talk to me now that I had something going with Connor. But the girl cousins pretended I didn’t exist.
“They’re not your friends, are they?” Grandma Jean said.
It was easier to be mad at her than at Connor. I got to my feet, full of righteous indignation.
“I’m almost eighteen, and this is my life.”
“Honey, I know it’s hard, living here with the old folks. It’s hard for me, too. I’m sure we both wish your mom was around to deal with this situation, but she’s not.”
“Grandma, I don’t know how else to put this. My love life is none of your business.”
“I’ve raised you since you were a girl. I’ve earned the right to speak my mind. As for my business, the club is literally my business. It’s my livelihood. Don’t you think it affects me—Gil catching my granddaughter, who I asked him to hire, half-naked in the boathouse?”
“He never saw me half-naked. That’s a lie.”
“Maybe he didn’t see, but he sure as heck knew. I’m not a prude, Tabitha, and I’m not trying to control you. But that’s not nice. It’s disrespectful to the job, to your boss, to me. To yourself.”
As she spoke, and her words sank in, I began to feel smaller, until I wished I could sink into the sofa and disappear. She was right. I’d been selfish. I hadn’t stopped to think how my behavior would affect her. This was my grandma, who’d taken me in, who’d raised me. She deserved better than how I’d behaved.
“You’re right,” I said. “That was wrong of me, Grandma. I see that now. I apologize. I won’t do it again, promise. Forgive me?”
The relief on her face broke my heart.
“I forgive you.”
“I love you, Grandma Jean.”
“I love you, too.”
We hugged, tears in our eyes.
“Now, that was exhausting. Time for bed.”
I pecked her soft cheek and watched her walk heavily down the hall, my heart full of love for her. That was at eight o’clock.
By ten, I was jonesing for Connor so bad that I couldn’t see straight. The need to touch him, kiss him, feel his skin against mine, overwhelmed my guilt and my better judgment. I’d promised Grandma not to mess around at the club. And I would keep that promise. But I never said I’d stop seeing him. As long as we didn’t go to the boathouse—or the golf course, which was club property—then I wouldn’t be breaking my word.
I put on a cute sundress, lip gloss, and mascara. I fluffed my hair and spritzed on perfume. I tiptoed out the door.
Outside, the night air was velvety and redolent of summer. I hurried down the block to where Connor was waiting for me in Robbie’s old Jeep, top down, open to the indigo sky. A yellow moon sat low on the horizon, surrounded by a haze of humidity. I climbed up into the passenger seat. Connor grabbed me and kissed me breathless.
“Something bad happened,” I said, pulling away. “Gil told my grandmother about finding us in the boathouse. I almost didn’t come out tonight.”