The You I Never Knew by Susan Wiggs Page A

and the light falling between the rafters, that an odd feeling had settled over him. Maybe it was the quiet or the sense that he was totally alone; he didn’t know. But it had felt kind of pleasant.
    “It’s nice to be together with the two of you,” Gavin said suddenly, pressing his palms on the table as if he never planned to eat again.
    “We let too much time go by,” his mom said in a quiet voice.
    “I know, Michelle,” Gavin said. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how many times I picked up the phone, but I never knew what I’d say—”
    “Let’s not do this, Daddy. Let’s not drag up all the old regrets. We can’t get back the years we lost. We can only go on from here.”
    Cody did his best not to roll his eyes. This was just what he’d been hoping to avoid—a big emotional scene where they go “I’m sorry I’m sorry” all over each other and then drag him into the middle of everything as The Grandson You Never Knew.
    “Can I be excused?” he asked too loudly.
    They both looked at him as if he had a booger hanging out of his nose.
    “I told Claudia I’d call her.”
    “Girlfriend?” Gavin asked.
    “Yeah.” Cody felt about two feet taller just saying it. He loved walking through the halls at school, hearing everybody whisper:
He’s going out with Claudia Teller
….
    “So can I be excused?” he asked.
    His mom nodded. “Go ahead, honey.”
    “Thanks… for dinner,” he said, then hurried out into the cold night. When he got to his own room, he collapsed on the bed, clicked on the TV, and realized that working outside in subfreezing temperatures all day had made him more tired than he’d ever been in his life. He was asleep before he even remembered he meant to call Claudia.

Chapter 9
    Y ou’re kidding, right?” Cody asked at the breakfast table.
    “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Cradling a coffee mug between both hands, Michelle regarded her son in the clear light of the mountain morning. His cheeks were stuffed with blueberry muffin. Chewing slowly, he washed it down with a big gulp of black coffee.
    When did her son start drinking coffee—black, of all things?
    He took a final swallow. “I said, you’re kidding, right?”
    She’d heard him the first time, but making him repeat himself for the sake of manners was ingrained in her. Funny how he’d never learned that lesson. The second time around, he was supposed to fix his tone of voice, ask his question politely and without food in his mouth. Yet in all his life, he’d never done it.
    Maybe he kept thinking she’d get tired of correcting him. He’d worn her down on so many other matters. When he wanted something—ridiculously expensive shoes, a pierced ear, a snowboard—he became like water dripping on a rock: constant, incessant, wearing her away until she caved in.
    “No,” she said. “I’m not kidding. You’re going back to Mr. McPhee’s today.”
    “I’m not going.” Cody jutted his chin defiantly and held up his hands, palms facing out. “I have blisters because I spent eight hours shoveling horseshit yesterday. Horseshit, Mom.”
    Michelle felt her lips twitch. Laughing now would enrage him, so she composed herself. “When Mr. Bliss dropped you off yesterday he said there was lots more work to be done and to be there at nine again.”
    “That sucks.” He shoved back from the table, giving his long two-colored ponytail an insolent toss.
    “What sucks is backing the car into a guy’s trailer,” she reminded him.
What sucks is that the guy’s your father, and I have no idea how to explain it to you.
    “So go get ready.” She put the mugs in the sink. “I need to phone Brad, and then we’ll leave.”
    “Hey, I was going to call Claudia—”
    “Later. When you get home tonight—”
    Cody curled his lip. “I’ll call her when I damn well please.”
    Her face felt hot, burning hot, yet the anger was directed at herself. When he spoke to her like this, she had no idea how to make him