Everything Has Changed: Book Four

Chapter Eighteen: Coffee House

Chapter Eighteen: Coffee House

I sit anxiously in the car, wringing my hands together. My Mom drives in silence, and it's so awkward.

Emily tried to come with us but I didn't know what we were taking about and she didn't need to hear it.

Micah didn't want to come, and we didn't ask anybody else.

"Grace, you don't have to do this if you don't want to." Mom says finally.

"I want to." I blurt. "I just...have a lot to say and I don't know where to start."

She nods to herself.

"Do you think the mall is a little too public for this conversation?" She asks suddenly.

"Probably." I mutter.

"Do you want to go to my house?" She asks. She looks at the look on my face. "Okay, a coffee shop or something?"

"Sure." I nod.

I'm not ready to be alone with her in a building.

She drives me to a coffee shop and parks the car. We both go inside.

"Do you want anything?"

I don't, but I need something to keep my hands busy.

"I guess just a small hot french vanilla latte. I an pay for it."

"That's fine, I'll pay."

I don't feel like arguing with her, so I just shrug and sit down at a table.

After a few minutes, she comes back with both drinks and I thank her.

She just nods and sits across from me.

And again. Silence.

I think about the moment I found out she was dead. That feeling.

I think about all that I wanted to tell her if I had a second chance.

I clear my throat.

"You know...when I was in college, I always thought I was going to be happy if you died. I know that's rude to say and I'm sorry if that upsets you, but it's the truth."

I chance a look at her and she looks neutral.

"Sweetie, I would be happy if I died, too."

I shake my head.

"When Nana told me you died..." I clear my throat. "I was...numb for a second, and then I started shaking. I couldn't hold myself up. Danny had to carry me to the couch. I cried. I remember telling him it was my fault."

"How could it have been your fault?" She asks quietly.

"Nana said it was liver cancer."

Mom nods slowly.

"That's definitely believable." She murmurs.

"When I was a teen, you told me it was my fault."

"Nothing from back then was your fault." She says. "You were the perfect daughter and from what I've seen today, you still are. I was an alcoholic. It had nothing to do with you."

Both of us are quiet for a while after that, and I'm starting to panic because I don't know how to talk to her.

"I wanted to thank you." She says suddenly.

I frown, looking at her.

"For what?"

She clears her throat.