Page 69 of Tell Me Again
“Never,” he said, shaking his head.
“I used to do that.” She shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “After Bryce died, I made a habit of it whenever I was in New York City. I made the rounds in Manhattan, hoping someone would give me a sign from the other side that Bryce was at peace.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” she said, and lifted his hand to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss across his knuckles. “That’s how much I needed her forgiveness. I’ve also never admitted that to anyone before.”
“Did anything come of it?”
“Nope. A few of the people acted like it, but I could tell it was fake. I still think if I’d found—”
As the chime dinged, the illuminated seat belt sign darkened.
“There we go,” she said, lifting her head. “You made it through takeoff again.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it fast. He’d made it through takeoff because she’d once again distracted him. He didn’t deserve it, her small kindness, not when he’d just been so rude. She’d given it to him anyway.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he whispered. “I know I hold on to Grace too tightly, especially now that she’s a teenager. But as crazy as the world was when we were growing up, it’s a whole different ballgame now. I have to keep her safe.”
“She’s a good girl. You have to start trusting that, Trevor. If you don’t give her a little freedom she’s going to find other ways to get it.”
“That’s a terrifying thought.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Everything about raising a daughter is terrifying these days. How can I have done this for over a decade and still suck so badly?”
“You don’t—”
“Yes, I do. Ask Grace. She’ll be happy to tell you all the ways I’m a terrible father.” He glanced out the window at the tops of the clouds, the sky at this altitude a pale, shimmering blue. “It wasn’t always this bad. I wasn’t always—”
He blew out a breath. “The first year after Grace was born was a blur. I quit school and got a full-time job on a construction crew. My nana bought a little place so we could move in with her. In the blink of an eye I went from hell-raiser to single dad living with my grandma. It was pathetic, but I was determined not to mess up and so damn scared that Bryce was going to change her mind and come back for Grace.”
“You never heard from her?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it. Grace was her daughter. How could she just leave her behind? Maybe it was a blessing that I hardly slept those first six months. Grace was a good baby, but it took her a while to sleep through the night. Plus I didn’t know anything. I read parenting books, but it was kind of trial by fire. Nana was a lifesaver and eventually we got into a rhythm. But every time I thought I had things down, something would change. She’d start teething or eating solid food or her nap schedule switched.”
He smiled at the memories that washed through him. “I just held on and tried my best to keep up with her. Then we had a couple of years under our belts and it got pretty great. I was her daddy and could do no wrong as long as I was willing to play dress-up and have tea parties. I even learned to braid hair, although it’s not my best skill.”
“I think the trying is what counts,” she said softly.
“It was,” he agreed with a nod. “Plus having her great-grandma there to soften the edges.”
“Did you live with her until she died?”
“No, we moved out when Grace turned two. I think Nana would have been happy if we’d stayed, but I needed space. Or at least not to have my grandma lecturing me about how I folded socks.”
“You don’t fold them. You ball up the pairs.”
“Nana would have liked you,” he told her.
“I doubt that,” she said with a snort. “Every time I saw your grandma, she gave me the stink eye.”
“She wanted me to tell you,” he said softly, and heard her sharp intake of breath. “After Bryce died, she said I should reach out to you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I was still scared and angry. Mostly angry. I actually thought maybe you’d find out through a will or some note Bryce might have left.”
“What could I have done to scare you so much?” She’d asked him a version of the same question that first night in her kitchen, but this time there was no accusation in it. It was as if she was simply curious. He wanted to give her an answer that would make her understand, which was a challenge because he couldn’t remember the reasons that had seemed so solid at the time.
“Grace was the only thing I ever had that was truly mine,” he told her after a few long moments. “Maybe I was afraid you would try to take her from me.”
“Or influence her,” she added.
