I Hated You First by Rachel John

Clay

 

 

 

Knowing I’d be sought out at my house, I’d driven aimlessly for a while, but I finally stopped at my grandparents’ house and idled at the curb. I hadn’t given them any notice of my coming. I had no idea what I’d even say if they asked. But I stayed put, and it didn’t take long before my grandmother came outside and gave me an impatient wave. Loiterers must be dealt with, after all, even related ones. I rolled down my passenger window and attempted to smile.

“Are you coming in?” she asked.

I shrugged.

Instead of berating me for my lack of decision-making skills, she tilted her head and took me in like the pathetic specimen I was. “Clayton, come inside. You’re wasting gas.”

That was true. And if I was jobless, I didn’t have gas money to burn. I turned off my truck and followed her into the house, taking a moment to study my mom’s picture in its frame like I always did before sitting on the uncomfortable couch. What was I doing here?

“Come talk to Clay,” I heard Grandma murmur to Grandpa in the kitchen. “I’ve never seen him sad. Stoic, yes, but not sad.”

“What should I say?” Grandpa asked, clearly at a loss.

Despite the progress we’d made, it didn’t change the reality of who they were. My grandparents didn’t deal with feelings. Those were things you waited out. Maybe that’s why I’d never let them see me sad, or mad, or even ecstatically happy before.

Was I sad now? I supposed I was. For one week, I’d forgotten all the reasons why dating Lauren would be a bad idea. But today had been illusion-wrecking day. I couldn’t have it all. Maybe I couldn’t have any of it. After all, wasn’t I sitting here hiding from Lauren? I pulled out my phone and stared at it. I still wasn’t ready to talk to anyone with the last name Harwood. Not yet.

“Clay, I have some things I’m getting rid of. Can you take them to the donation center for me?” Grandma asked, coming in with a box.

I quickly took it from her hands. “Of course. I’ll go right now.”

“Not yet. Sit some more. I have a few odds and ends to go through. Can you wait?” She blinked up at me, and it was the concern I saw there that did me in. She didn’t just want me to wait for more junk, she wanted me to wait here until I felt better. I put the box on the floor and sat back down, running my hands through my hair until it stood on end. I could not cry. Not in front of her.

Grandpa chose that moment to shuffle in, and he sat down next to me. “You have any truck pictures to show me, Clayton?”

I swallowed before speaking. “No. Actually, I… quit today.”

Grandma gave a small gasp. “But you’ve always worked there.”

“Maybe it’s time I do something else.”

“That depends on why you quit,” Grandpa said in his gravelly, always reasonable voice. “Quitting can be a positive or a negative thing. So can staying.”

They were quiet, waiting for my answer. The ticking of the clock and the leering of the Nutcracker doll didn’t help. The truth finally stumbled out of me because silence was worse. “John Harwood found out I was dating Lauren. He didn’t like that because… well, because he had invited me, Lauren, and Parker to be owners in the company. Originally, it was just going to be Lauren and Parker, but he invited me into the club today. And then promptly kicked me back out of it.”

“The club?” Grandma frowned. “What club?”

“I think he’s being sarcastic.” Grandpa turned to look at me. “You thought you were kin, but you’re not. Is that why you quit today?”

I nodded, not liking it spelled out in all its embarrassment.

Grandma clucked her tongue. “Your mother was an only child, too. She used to play with a family of eight kids across the street. There was nothing she loved more than to blend in with the bunch of them. Half the time, the parents didn’t know she was there until I called to have them send her home.”

Another tether to her, besides the color of our eyes and our strong chins. I wondered why my grandparents never had any other kids, but it wasn’t the sort of thing you could ask.

Grandpa cleared his throat. “Is John mad because you kept it a secret, or is he mad because he doesn’t want you dating his daughter?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“No.” I didn’t stay long enough to. Grandpa’s question made me realize how impulsive I’d been. I’d left Lauren there to deal with our mess. I’d pursued her, secretly, and then when it all came out today, I ditched and ran. I had turned off my phone, didn’t go to my house, didn’t call. I even thought maybe she’d assumed the worst about me like the rest of her family. Some boyfriend I was.

“I need to go.” I jumped to my feet and picked up Grandma’s box. “Thanks for listening.”

They nodded, looking confused by my sudden shift in mood.

Grandpa clapped me lightly on the shoulder. “Olsen men do better when they’re employed, son. ‘Bout drove your grandma nuts back in ninety-three when the postal service let me go. Finding work again saved our marriage.”

I nodded to reassure him I understood. “Point taken. I will definitely be working somewhere the next time you see me.”

“Good. Good.”

Grandma darted over to the mantel. “One more thing for the box, Clayton. I don’t want this anymore.”

She came back with the Nutcracker doll and placed it in the box I was holding. The thing stared up at me with his freaky white teeth and snowy eyebrows. Really? After all this time of being chronically creeped out by the thing, he was going away, just like that?

“You can keep him if you’d like. I know you’ve spent a lot of time looking at it. That’s why I kept him for so long.”

I shook my head, not believing what I was hearing. “No, I don’t want to keep him. Thanks though. I’ll make sure he gets donated.” Into the ground somewhere far, far away.

All these years I’d spent locked in a losing staring contest with a doll, when I could have just said something to Grandma and ended it. What else wasn’t I speaking up about?