Page 37 of Running
I notice Grace soaking up the view of the interior from the rotunda, which she’d missed last time since she and Rawley drove to the back of my driveway to meet us on the field.
“It’s a little much, I know.” I let out a breath.
“You really live here by yourself?” Grace’s voice is full of disbelief.
“I do. This house is my long-term plan for my life. Only, I didn’t necessarily think through what that would mean at twenty-three years old.”
She nods. “You have a home base, though. That must feel good.”
“It does. Most of the time. I miss my family a lot now that I’m back. That whole trip really changed my perspective.”
She doesn’t respond, instead watching me like she’s waiting for me to explain.
But I don’t want to get super heavy right now, so I decide to move on to the project at hand. I gesture for her to walk in a little further, and I shut the front door.
“All the items I thought could work are down in my basement, if you want to come down there.”
We walk through to the living room and I lead her to the door to the basement.
“Be careful on these stairs, they’re kind of narrow.” Her wedges aren’t high, but the stairs to the basement are unforgiving.
As she moves slowly down each step, I follow behind. Oninstinct, my hand shoots forward to rest on the small of her back to steady her. Through her thin shirt, I can feel the slight curvature of her spine, my hand molding against her.
“Oh,” she whispers softly when she feels the contact.
Shit.I shouldn’t have done that.
But I don’t move my hand until she’s safely at the bottom of the stairs.
She walks out into the space more confidently now that she’s on solid ground, surveying the layout of the first room. The basement’s finished in a contemporary, clean style. Taupe walls, simple beige carpet, basic but nice trim.
In one corner sit the boxes I’d pulled together for possible donations.
“Here’s the haul. I moved the armchairs there so we can sit down while we go through everything.”
Without thinking, I press my hand toward the space between her shoulders, guiding her in the right direction. As soon I feel the warmth radiating off of her, I pull my hand back.
What the hell? Stop touching her.
Grace doesn’t notice this time thankfully, and moves toward the pile, sitting in one of the chairs. Once she does, her head twists around to take in the rest of the finished basement from the new perspective.
Yep, the full basement is huge. Thousands of square feet, only some of which is visible from where she sits. There’s a bar area, game room, and a movie theater that holds twenty, not to mention all the open space where you can sit down and watch a game on one of the wall-mounted TVs.
“This house is enormous, Johnson,” Grace says breathily.
“Yeah.” I draw out the word, which she picks up on, turning back to me with a questioning look.
“Toobig sometimes?” she asks. “Is that weird?”
I take a beat to think through how I want to answer. Whether I want to go down this road and confess my dirty little secret about my house, after all.
Unlike when we were upstairs, the answer to the question turns out to be yes. I take a seat in the armchair next to her, and my mouth starts moving, drawn by the need to share my struggle.
“I hate giving these thoughts power, but yeah, the house is too big for me. I get lonely when it’s only me. The whole place is so empty.”
“Oh, Johnson.” Her face crumples a little, now that I’ve said the words.
“It’s worse since I got back from Alabama. I got used to having my niece crawling all over me, my mom to talk to, the baby sounds. Now it’s just…me.”
