And every night Granddad would come in with rosy cheeks and a huge appetite and compliment my mom on what a great cook she was.
Then Saturday happened. And the last thing I wanted was to spend the day at home while my grandfather churned up dirt and helped plant Juli’s yard.
Mom tried to get me to do our own yard, but I would have felt ridiculous micromowing our grass
with Granddad and Juli making real changes right across the street.
So I locked myself in my room and called Garrett. He wasn’t home, and everybody else I called had stuff they had to do.
And hitting up Mom or Dad for a ride to the movies or the mall was hopeless. They’d tell me I was supposed to be doing the yard.
What I was, was stuck. And what I wound up doing was looking out the stupid window at Juli and my grandfather.
It was a totally lame thing to do, but that’s what I did. I got nailed doing it, too. By my grandfather.
And he, of course, had to point me out to Juli, which made me feel another two inches shorter.
I dropped the curtain and blasted out the back door and over the fence. I had to get out of there. I swear I walked ten miles that day.
And I don’t know who I was madder at—my grandfather, Juli, or me. What was wrong with me?
If I wanted to make it up to Juli, why didn’t I just go over there and help? What was stopping me?
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