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have been there, I could have done something.
    “I know,” I respond, just like I always do, even though he has no idea that today isn’t only the day my mom died. Who would ever guess that two shitty things could happen to someone years apart on the exact same day? As much as Mr. C is a father figure to me, I would never share with him the shame I feel on this day every year.
    “I wish I could be there with you today, but…” He puts his head down, ashamed.
    “Don’t worry about it. I would rather have you here.” Mr. C has met me at my mother’s grave every year since her death. Even as often as he was drunk, he never showed up stumbling or swaying, and he always offered me advice to get me through the day. But I mean what I say; he needs to be in rehab. To get himself better and start living his life like the one he had before my dad destroyed it.
    “I do need to be here. Brady and Sadie came to see me the other day,” he says and the smile on his face brightens the room.
    “Were they able to keep their hands off each other during their brief visit?” I joke.
    “Young love…it’s a breathtaking sight, Grant. You should give it a try.” He sits back and leans into the cushions.
    “It’s overrated. I prefer older, more established love,” I contradict him and he frowns.
    “You do understand that, regardless of age, love can either break your heart or cause you to soar to new heights. It’s a chance you take, no matter if you are a billionaire or if you are on welfare. Heartbreak isn’t prejudiced, Grant.” He leans forward and looks at me as though he just revealed a major secret.
    “I have to imagine though that if you get your heart broken, it’s better if you have money to buy yourself some happiness again.” I’m not immune to the fact that I sound like an asshole, but I don’t want to set myself up for someone to leave me again.
    “One day, son. One day, you’ll find love and it’ll knock you down hard. You won’t remember whatever it is you wanted before it came along.” He shakes his head, smirking at me.
    “As long as I’m thirty-five, and I have three houses and at least a million dollars in the bank, I’ll welcome it,” I say with a laugh, attempting to bring amusement to this serious conversation. Mr. C’s expression tells me that he isn’t finding humor in my words.
    “We’ll see. In the meantime, try to have some fun,” he says, starting to stand up. “Please give your mom my best.” He holds his arms out to give me a hug and I gratefully hug him back.
    “I will. Keep getting better, Mr. C. I’ll be back next week,” I promise with one more pat on the back.
    “Please do me a favor and stick my advice somewhere in the back of that stubborn head of yours,” he says, smacking the back of my head playfully.
    “Will do. I’ll keep it way back there,” I laugh, sidestepping my way out of his second smack.
    “And Grant,” he says and I turn around. “I love you.”
    I nod toward him, confirming that I heard his words, but I don’t say anything back. I haven’t said those words in five years…to anyone. Even though I love Mr. C as if he was my father, he’ll never hear me say those words. Every time I’ve ever spoken them to someone, they’ve left me.
    Mr. C walks out the door one way, and I head off in the direction of the reception area, shaking my head. You would think someone who has had his heart ripped out and stomped on would have a different perspective on love.
     
    I know the path through the winding one-way roads like the back of my hand. Before I turned sixteen and got my license, Brady and I would ride our bikes up here. We would always stop by the convenient store and pick up sodas, candy, and a bouquet of flowers. Brady would sit under the large maple tree that rested by the road, and I would go talk to my mom. He knew I wanted the space, but also made sure he was only a few steps away in case I needed him. A twinge of sadness hits me when I