Do You Do Extras? (An American in the UK Book 1)

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Do You Do Extras? (An American in the UK Book 1) Page 22

by Nikki Ashton


  And I fucking did and my girlfriend damn well loved it.

  Grantley

  “Do I look okay?” I asked, straightening my button down shirt.

  Phoebe got up on her tiptoes and gave me a soft kiss. “You look extremely handsome. He’s going to be very proud.”

  “I have no idea why I should care whether he is or not.”

  “Because he’s your dad, and even though he left you, he was a great dad before he did.”

  I let out a long exhale, shoved my hands into my pockets, and leaned against the hood of the rental car. We’d parked a couple of blocks away from my dad’s address because I figured a strange car pulling up outside his house would announce my arrival and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to give him an opportunity to run again.

  Phoebe had been great at keeping me calm. She’d worked her magic on me once again. I smiled as I thought about how she’d woken me a couple of hours earlier. Shit, that girl had skills. In fact, she was just amazing in every way. I’d been a total douche over the whole Serena meeting, but after I’d apologized, that had been the end of it. No sulking or pouting or bringing it up at every opportunity. She even apologized for overreacting, but she shouldn’t have – I was in the wrong, not her.

  Looking up from the sidewalk my eyes met Phoebe’s, and all I could see was warmth and gentleness, and I was so damn glad I’d asked her to come with me. It had been a spur of the moment decision, made because of how damn adorable she looked in her embarrassment over the boys playing with her dildo. However, once the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made the right choice. The way she’d been with me since we’d got to Ohio only proved that.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I said, snagging her hand and moving away from the car.

  A few minutes later, we stood a little ways down from his house.

  “It’s lovely,” Phoebe said, looking up at the single-fronted two-story.

  It was; it had a neat, well-tended lawn with a curved flowerbed cut into it with a few bushes planted. It was half brick and half clapboard, painted a brilliant white and on the driveway, at the side that blended into a path to the door, was parked a small sedan and his 1976 Harley Davidson Shovelhead.

  “Shit,” I muttered, squeezing Phoebe’s hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I nodded toward the driveway. “His bike. It’s the same one he had when I was a kid.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The same one he’d take me on around the neighborhood.”

  “Oh Grantley.”

  Phoebe kissed my bicep and moved closer to my side.

  “We can go, if you want to,” she said, her eyes firmly pinned on the bike.

  “Nope. I came all this way for a reason, and I’m going to do it.”

  Taking a deep breath, I led Phoebe up the path and rang the bell. I heard it chime inside followed by a woman’s voice.

  “Hold on, I’m coming.”

  I looked at Phoebe and gave her a tight smile, as we waited for Deanna Miller, my dad’s wife, to open the door. When it did swing open, I took a step back and drew in a breath.

  “Oh hello. Can I help you?” Deanna, a pretty brunette, beamed at us.

  When I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Deanna must have properly looked at me then, because she gasped and put a hand to her chest.

  “Oh my God,” she croaked out. “It’s you.”

  I coughed and stepped forward again. “I guess that depends on who you think I am.”

  Anxiety gripped me, because if she said ‘Grantley James, the movie star’, if my dad had never acknowledged me, then I think it would have broken me.

  “Trent’s boy,” she whispered.

  I drew in a jagged breath, desperately trying to keep my emotions in place. Just those words: ‘Trent’s boy’, made me want to drop to my knees and sob for the dad I’d missed. My dad.

  “Is he home?” I asked, my voice unsteady.

  Deanna nodded and stepped back from the door, silently inviting us in. As we walked into the spacious lounge, with a set of stairs off to the right, I felt my knees trembling.

  “You okay?” Phoebe asked.

  I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak. I knew I should say something to Deanna, about how I was going to spoil her and Sue-Ann’s damn stupid plan, but no words would come. Deanna hovered next to us and looked between me and Phoebe.

  “He’s going to be shocked. I just can’t believe you’re here.”

  Thankfully, Phoebe spoke for me. “We know that this isn’t what you want, but Grantley felt he had to speak to his dad about it.”

  Deanna slapped a hand across her mouth, stifling a sob, and shook her head. “No…you have no idea.”

  “I’m sorry.” I managed to get out. “I had to.”

  She looked at me with tears in her eyes and I was sure I saw joy, but had no idea how could that be when I was about to tell my dad that it was my kidney he was getting. She must know that he was going to refuse it – or maybe Sue-Ann had got it all wrong.

  “Please, take a seat,” Deanna said, wiping her face. “I’ll go get Trent.”

  “Thank you.” Phoebe gave her a warm smile and led me to a brown leather couch.

  We sat in silence, the only noise, the tick of a clock on the wall above the fireplace. I looked around and could see they lived a comfortable life. Their furniture was of good quality, their TV pretty big, and there was a bookcase, with books and framed pictures on every shelf. I was too far away to be able to see properly, but I was pretty sure I recognized one of the photographs. It was me and Dad, sitting on his Harley. I was in front, holding onto the handlebars, with Dad’s hands over mine, and we were both grinning like we’d just won the damn lottery. If it was the picture I was thinking of, I had two front teeth missing and a huge scrape on my knee where I’d fallen over in the park. That was why I was smiling – Dad had taken me for ice cream and then for a ride on the bike to make me feel better.

  “She seems lovely,” Phoebe whispered, leaning in closer.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  After a few minutes, I heard footsteps behind me on the hardwood floor and I thought my heart was going to explode, it was beating so fast. Adrenaline rapidly pumped through my veins, turning my blood to ice and electrifying the hairs on my arms. I could hardly breathe, in the corner of my eye, I saw the long, lean body of my dad.

  I dropped my head and leaned forward, pulling my hand from Phoebe’s to rest my forearms on my knees. He was here. My dad. My world for six years, before he left me.

  “Grantley.” Phoebe laid a hand on my back, her voice tender, yet full of urgency. “Are you okay?”

  Breathing heavily, I nodded.

  His boots came into view – biker boots like he’d always worn. The hems of worn denims draped over the tops of them. Then I smelled it, that familiar odor of my dad. Engine oil and juniper. He smelled exactly the same. Almost twenty years and he was still wearing the same cologne.

  I couldn’t look up, for fear of seeing hatred in his eyes. For fear that he’d disappear again. I wanted to scream at him, but I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him, but I wanted to cry because he was here. After twenty years, he was here. I started to shake, desperate to know what to do. Now wondering whether I was right to take his chance of life away from him. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be here, he would refuse to take my kidney through guilt and he’d die. I would lose him again.

  Then, I felt it. His big hand was on my head. Just like he used to do when I was a kid.

  “It’s okay, son,” he said in his deep growl. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  Phoebe

  I pulled in a breath as Mr. Miller placed his hand on Grantley’s head. I looked up at him and saw his eyes brimming with tears. His worn but handsome face looked devastated as he looked at his wife. Deanna gave him a sad smile and swiped at the wetness on her cheeks.

  “Grantley, son,” he said, looking down at Grantley’s head. “Look at me.”

  Grantley shook his head,
still leaning forward.

  “Please son.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grantley said on long breath. “I couldn’t do it without talking to you.” He turned to Deanna, but keeping his eyes averted from his dad. “I’m so sorry.”

  Deanna blinked and looked at Trent, shrugging her thin shoulders.

  “What are you sorry for?” Trent closed his eyes briefly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  Grantley finally looked up at him and as soon as their eyes met, Trent flung his arms around his son, pulling him up to standing.

  Grantley sobbed, and seeing him so distressed caused tears to flow freely down my own cheeks. I looked over to Deanna, who was also crying with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

  The air in the room was thick with emotion as father and son clung to each other, both declaring how sorry they were. Twenty years of hurt and pain, washing around us and punching both men in their guts.

  Finally, Trent pulled away and placed a hand on Grantley’s cheek.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, his deep voice cracking with emotion. “All this time and you came. I don’t deserve this, but I hoped. God, how I hoped.”

  Grantley silently stared at his dad for a few seconds and then pulled away, pacing over to the fireplace. Trent dropped his arms to his side and looked to Deanna, who flopped down onto a chair. My gaze turned to Grantley, watching to see what he was going to do or say. He did nothing at first, simply standing and staring at Trent, but when his dad took a step forward, Grantley held up a hand.

  “No. Don’t,” he snapped, wiping his eyes with his forearm. “I need to say what I’ve got to say.”

  Trent stopped and nodded.

  Grantley looked at Deanna. “I know you didn’t want this, and I know you and Sue-Ann cooked up this damn stupid plan, but he has a right to choose.”

  “Sue-Ann?” Trent said, turning to his wife. “What’s he talking about?”

  Deanne shrugged. “I don’t know honey.”

  “No point lying now I’m here,” Grantley said. “I’m here now and I’m here because I thought you should know.”

  “Know what, Grantley? What are you talking about?”

  “Your kidney. The kidney that you need, I’m going to give you mine. Your wife contacted Sue-Ann and asked her to ask me. It was supposed to be secret, because she said your guilt wouldn’t let you accept it, but I couldn’t do it without letting you know.”

  I looked up at Trent, waiting for him to blow like a volcano, but the explosion didn’t come. He looked confused, looking between Deanna and Grantley.

  “I have no idea what it is your mother has told you, but I have never spoken to her,” Deanna said, moving to the edge of the chair.

  Grantley took in a deep breath and shook his head. “Please stop lying, this is hard enough for me. I’m here because he needs to know.”

  “Just tell me what it is you’re talking about son,” Trent pleaded, holding a hand out to Grantley.

  “The kidney you need, I told you.”

  Grantley’s voice got louder and I could see he was getting agitated. I wanted to go to him and hold him, but wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I sensed that he just needed to get it all off his chest and tell his dad why he was there.

  “Grantley, son, I don’t need a kidney. What would make you think that?”

  I looked at Trent and had to admit, he looked fit and healthy, not at all like he was seriously ill.

  “You don’t need to pretend. I know you felt guilty about taking mine, which was why they came up with their plan, and I want you to have it, but I just couldn’t do it without you knowing. You only have one and it’s diseased.”

  “What?” Trent asked, shaking his head.

  “Don’t pretend that you don’t need this,” Grantley cried.

  “I’m not pretending, I swear.” Trent looked at Grantley as though he was crazy. “What on earth made you think I needed a kidney?”

  Grantley looked around Trent to Deanna. “You spoke to Sue-Ann,” he protested. “She said Dad needed a kidney but felt too guilty to ask me. You were going to tell him some guy had died.”

  Deanna shook her head furiously. “I didn’t, I swear. Your dad is perfectly fine. Why would I do that?”

  Grantley looked to me. “Didn’t she say that, Phoebes? Didn’t Sue-Ann say Dad needed my kidney?”

  He looked anxiously at me, begging me with his eyes to prove he wasn’t going mad.

  I nodded and turned to Trent. “She did, Mr. Miller. Grantley’s telling the truth. That’s what Sue-Ann said.”

  Trent went deathly pale and I was certain he was going to scream at Deanna for telling his secret, but he didn’t. His nostrils flared in time with his heavy breathing as he stood in front of Grantley.

  “I will fucking kill her,” he spat out. “She is one piece of shit.”

  “She only did what she thought was best,” Grantley said. “I have no time for her, but this she did for good reasons.”

  Trent’s eyes narrowed on his son as he moved forward and placed a hand on Grantley’s shoulder. Grantley glanced down at it and I noticed how his breath hitched at his dad’s touch.

  “Grantley, I swear. I no more need a new kidney than you do. That piece of scum, who is your mother, lied to you. I have no fucking idea why, but she has. Deanna hasn’t spoken to her. Have you babe?”

  He looked over his shoulder at Deanna, who shook her head. “No, I swear.”

  Grantley looked at me, he was broken and desolate, and instantly I was out of my seat and going to his side to wrap my arms around his middle.

  “Please don’t lie to him, Mr. Miller,” I whispered. “It took a lot for him to come here.”

  “I’m not lying honey. I don’t need a kidney. I don’t know what Sue-Ann has cooked up, but she’s pulled a real doozy this time. And what the hell makes you think I only have one damn kidney.”

  Grantley tensed, his muscles going rigid beneath my touch and I held on tightly. He was going to detonate, I could just feel the anger building.

  “I…she told me. The scar on your side. She told me you’d had a kidney removed.”

  “What the fuck bullshit has she been feeding you? I got that from a bike accident when I was nineteen.”

  “But she said...” Grantley trailed off and looked at me anxiously and then back to his father.

  “I’m sorry Grantley. I don’t know what to say.” Trent went to touch Grantley, but at the last second pulled his hand away, looking at me with deep sorrow in his eyes.

  “But she said you needed it. She said you wouldn’t ask me because you felt guilty. She said you only had one kidney and you needed mine.”

  His voice was full of confusion and questions – questions that none of us could answer.

  “You’re not lying?” he asked Trent.

  Trent shook his head and took a deep breath. “I swear.” Trent glanced at Deanna and then turned back to his son, and swallowed hard. “Even if I did need one, I wouldn’t ask you Grantley. I couldn’t.”

  “Why?” Grantley snapped. “Why wouldn’t you. I would do it, I’m here. I was willing to.”

  “I know, and I’m so grateful that you’re here. I have missed you so damn much. There’s been a huge space in my heart for twenty fu-.”

  “So why the hell did you leave then?” Grantley bellowed, pulling away from me and getting into Trent’s space. “Why leave me with her? You were my damn world and you left me there.”

  Deanna let out a ragged sob as Trent stumbled backwards a step. He brushed her helping hand away and righted himself, standing up tall to face his son again.

  “I am so sorry,” he said. “Sorrier than you will ever know, but I couldn’t stay, Grantley, I just couldn’t.”

  “You could have taken me with you. I’m your son. You should have taken me.”

  Grantley had tears careening down his face, his chest heaving with the exertion of expending the emotions of abandonment and loneliness t
hat he’d felt as a child. I moved to him and placed one hand on his back, and taking his hand with my other. I hated seeing him in so much pain and had to comfort him in any way I could.

  “Grantley, please don’t,” I soothed.

  “No Phoebe. He needs to know how shit my fucking life was without him.”

  Trent groaned and slapped a hand against his mouth. “I couldn’t take you, Grantley. I just couldn’t.”

  “Why not? Just tell me, why the fucking hell not.”

  “Because I’m not your father, Grantley.” Trent yelled. “I’m not your fucking dad.”

  Grantley

  “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, it’s not true. You can’t say that. It’s a damn lie.”

  My dad could barely catch his breath as he stood in front of me, repeating over and over how sorry he was.

  “Did she tell you that?” I screamed. “Because she’s a fucking lying bitch.”

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Phoebe whimpered, clutching tightly onto my arm. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing Phoebe, nothing at all, because it’s not true. Dad, please tell me it’s not true.”

  I rushed to him and grabbed hold of his hand, tugging on it and pleading that he tell me he’d got it all wrong.

  “I can’t, I’m sorry. I really wish I could.”

  Dad’s eyes were full of sorrow and remorse and worst of all, full of truth.

  He wasn’t my dad.

  I’d grieved for his leaving for twenty years and he wasn’t mine to grieve for.

  I dropped his hand and took two steps back, finding myself in Phoebe’s arms. She wrapped them around me, laying a wet cheek against my back.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Your mom confirmed it, after I figured it out.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. She might have been lying.

  “No,” Dad said. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true, son.”

  I gave an empty laugh. Son. How the hell could he call me that?

  “I think we should leave you two alone,” Deanna said, moving alongside my dad. “Phoebe, sweetheart, how about you come and sit in the yard with me for a while.”

 

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