Then, when I was about eleven, I went to stay with Grans in Montauk for four weeks while August was having his big jaw surgery.
This was the longest I’d ever been away from home, and I have to say it was so amazing to suddenly be free of all that stuff that made me so mad.
No one stared at Grans and me when we went to town to buy groceries. No one pointed at us. No one even noticed us.
Grans was one of those grandmothers who do everything with their grandkids.
She’d run into the ocean if I asked her to, even if she had nice clothes on.
She would let me play with her makeup and didn’t mind if I used it on her face to practice my face-painting skills.
She’d take me for ice cream even if we hadn’t eaten dinner yet. She’d draw chalk horses on the sidewalk in front of her house.
One night, while we were walking back from town, I told her that I wished I could live with her forever.
I was so happy there. I think it might have been the best time in my life.
Coming home after four weeks felt very strange at first.
I remember very vividly stepping through the door and seeing August running over to welcome me home,
and for this tiny fraction of a moment I saw him not the way I’ve always seen him, but the way other people see him.
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