probably didn't hear me. He's with his family at this time, and Manny
always said they can be really loud, but I wished him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and all the
happiness in the world. One of us deserves to be happy. I doubt it'll ever be me.
The plane was shaking like crazy.
Michael put the journal down and shut his eyes, praying the turbulence didn't last long.
"Damn," he whispered. "I hate this shit."
He gripped the armrests of his seat and ignored his travel companion, some business man who
was shooting dirty looks his way, as if he wasn't scared shitless himself. Michael hated people like
that.
Once the turbulence was finally over, he took the credit card he was only supposed to use for
emergencies and called his grandma's house.
Michael knew his dad had been close to getting himself a ticket and boarding the plane to Florida
with him, but ultimately decided he needed more answers from his mother. Not to mention, he was
an extremely responsible man. Regardless of how he felt about Grandma Elizabeth at the moment,
he'd never forgive himself if he didn't finish the task of driving her to all her medical appointments.
Only then would he be able to leave Lake Tahoe behind and go meet his family on his dad's side.
"Hello? Honey, is that you?"
Michael smiled, and let out a deep breath. Although his parents had never been touchy-feely with one another, they had always been very
loving and supportive of him. Michael never had a reason to doubt they wouldn't give their own
lives for their son's, but he never saw anything that would indicate they'd do the same for each other.
Last night's events had changed that, and he was psyched to know their relationship was solid as a
rock.
"Michael?"
"Yeah, Mom," he said. "It's me."
"Is everything alright? You didn't land yet, did you?"
She sounded tired and worried out of her mind. Michael knew she probably hadn't even been to
bed yet. She'd been in protective mode for hours now.
"I'm halfway across the country, but wanted to check on you guys. How's everything with
Grandma and Dad?"
"Well, your father finally went to bed, thank goodness. He's exhausted after… you know…"
Michael waited a few seconds. He was sure his mother was trying not to cry again. "He called Aunt
Helen and spoke with her for a while. You have no idea, she was so happy to hear from him. They
made arrangements. Dad and I are traveling to Florida early tomorrow."
"What about Grandpa?" Michael asked. "Did she say anything about him? I'm still so mad with
her for not telling me anything." He was thrilled to talk to the woman he'd gotten to know through
his grandpa's journals, but she'd totally pissed him off by withholding the information he wanted the
most. "She could've told me whether Grandpa's alive or not, couldn't she? I don't get what the big
fucking deal is."
"Michael, language!"
He rolled his eyes. "Sooorryyyyy!"
"For your and Dad's sake, I'm hoping he's alive, but honey, you have to be prepared that he might not be. Maybe that's why Aunt Helen hasn't said anything. I wouldn't tell you over the phone either."
"I could've handled it," he grumbled.
"Besides, she was probably afraid you wouldn't have gone to see her if you knew Grandpa
Richard isn't around anymore."
"Well, that's bullshit!"
"Michael, do not be disrespectful to Aunt Helen, do you hear me?"
"Come on, Mom; I won't. I'm just— you know."
"I know. Believe me, I know," she repeated softly. "Listen, I need to let you go. I'm going to take
Grandma to her doctor's appointment and let Dad rest for a while. He needs it very much. And so
do you. Put those journals away for a bit, and make sure you get some sleep, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," he agreed, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to.
"And call me as soon as you get to Sarasota," she demanded. "We
always said they can be really loud, but I wished him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and all the
happiness in the world. One of us deserves to be happy. I doubt it'll ever be me.
The plane was shaking like crazy.
Michael put the journal down and shut his eyes, praying the turbulence didn't last long.
"Damn," he whispered. "I hate this shit."
He gripped the armrests of his seat and ignored his travel companion, some business man who
was shooting dirty looks his way, as if he wasn't scared shitless himself. Michael hated people like
that.
Once the turbulence was finally over, he took the credit card he was only supposed to use for
emergencies and called his grandma's house.
Michael knew his dad had been close to getting himself a ticket and boarding the plane to Florida
with him, but ultimately decided he needed more answers from his mother. Not to mention, he was
an extremely responsible man. Regardless of how he felt about Grandma Elizabeth at the moment,
he'd never forgive himself if he didn't finish the task of driving her to all her medical appointments.
Only then would he be able to leave Lake Tahoe behind and go meet his family on his dad's side.
"Hello? Honey, is that you?"
Michael smiled, and let out a deep breath. Although his parents had never been touchy-feely with one another, they had always been very
loving and supportive of him. Michael never had a reason to doubt they wouldn't give their own
lives for their son's, but he never saw anything that would indicate they'd do the same for each other.
Last night's events had changed that, and he was psyched to know their relationship was solid as a
rock.
"Michael?"
"Yeah, Mom," he said. "It's me."
"Is everything alright? You didn't land yet, did you?"
She sounded tired and worried out of her mind. Michael knew she probably hadn't even been to
bed yet. She'd been in protective mode for hours now.
"I'm halfway across the country, but wanted to check on you guys. How's everything with
Grandma and Dad?"
"Well, your father finally went to bed, thank goodness. He's exhausted after… you know…"
Michael waited a few seconds. He was sure his mother was trying not to cry again. "He called Aunt
Helen and spoke with her for a while. You have no idea, she was so happy to hear from him. They
made arrangements. Dad and I are traveling to Florida early tomorrow."
"What about Grandpa?" Michael asked. "Did she say anything about him? I'm still so mad with
her for not telling me anything." He was thrilled to talk to the woman he'd gotten to know through
his grandpa's journals, but she'd totally pissed him off by withholding the information he wanted the
most. "She could've told me whether Grandpa's alive or not, couldn't she? I don't get what the big
fucking deal is."
"Michael, language!"
He rolled his eyes. "Sooorryyyyy!"
"For your and Dad's sake, I'm hoping he's alive, but honey, you have to be prepared that he might not be. Maybe that's why Aunt Helen hasn't said anything. I wouldn't tell you over the phone either."
"I could've handled it," he grumbled.
"Besides, she was probably afraid you wouldn't have gone to see her if you knew Grandpa
Richard isn't around anymore."
"Well, that's bullshit!"
"Michael, do not be disrespectful to Aunt Helen, do you hear me?"
"Come on, Mom; I won't. I'm just— you know."
"I know. Believe me, I know," she repeated softly. "Listen, I need to let you go. I'm going to take
Grandma to her doctor's appointment and let Dad rest for a while. He needs it very much. And so
do you. Put those journals away for a bit, and make sure you get some sleep, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," he agreed, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to.
"And call me as soon as you get to Sarasota," she demanded. "We
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