Page 50 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

Because the truth is, I did need someone to give me permission to do what I wanted to do. My hope for this chapter in the memoir is to help people better understand what it means to love and support people in times of great distress and, most importantly, how to not center yourself in those situations.

I’m deep inside my own mind when a woman in a cute white sundress and big sunglasses walks up to my table.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you Gracie?” she asks.

I nod and smile, expecting the usual routine.

“I’m Josh’s friend Lara. He texted the group that he finally invited you to join us tonight. I’m a huge fan of yours and I’ve been trying to get him to invite you for weeks!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lara. I’m flattered by your sweet comments.” I also feel a twinge of disappointment realizing that Josh invited me on behalf of a friend.

“I’m heading over there now,” she tells me. “I can totally drive you, and I’m certain Josh would bring you home if you want?”

“I have stuff I need to drop at home and wouldn’t want to slow you down,” I say.

“It’s really no problem. Friends’ Night Out is super casual. We all just hang outside when the weather is nice and some people swing by for literally five minutes. The effort is what matters.”

This day has been exhausting, but strangely, I feel more excited by the idea of standing up, stretching my legs, and hanging out with new people than I do by the thought of going home and lying on the sofa binge-watching trash TV. So unlike me. But I’ve been sitting all day, aside from the book run this morning, and my entiresocial circle this summer has been composed of Josh, Lenny, Brian, and Sunny.

“Okay, I’m in,” I say. I need a night to let loose. “Do you mind if I change my outfit real fast when we stop at my house?”

“Not at all—well, only if I can come in and see everything that Josh has done to the place,” she says with a big smile, waiting patiently while I pack my belongings. I then swing my bag onto my shoulder and we head out of The Drip.

Chapter 20

We walk up the stairsto the outdoor patio, and I spot quite a few familiar faces. Sunny is here. Brian from the hardware store. Shae from the wine shop. This is a reminder that most of my small-talk friends have been Josh’s friends all along.

I take in the cute string lights, the classic bar music playing over the speakers, and the welcoming atmosphere. It’s obvious everyone here is comfortable with one another. While there are a few young backpacker types who seem to be passing through town, it looks to be mostly locals.

Then I look across the patio and spot Josh at a high table drinking a beer and talking animatedly to a friend. Just when I wonder if he’ll look over and notice me, he does. Relief, or something like it, crosses his face. I wave and walk over.

“Gracie, this is my friend Tommy,” he says, introducing us. “He’s the guy running the business for me during my break.”

Tommy and I share quick pleasantries before he adeptly excuses himself to catch up with some new arrivals. He subtly winks at Josh before walking away, but I catch it.

“Hi,” I say to Josh, now that it’s just the two of us. He makes me feel so comfortable and safe. Normally I hate new social situations, but this just feels easy with him here.

“Hi,” he responds. “I’m really glad you made it. No surprise that Lara was the one who scooped you up. She adores you.”

“She preemptively invited me to a book club meeting for next spring after my memoir comes out,” I say with a giggle. “She said it would make her the most popular mom in the PTA.”

“That sounds like Lara,” Josh says.

“How many people usually come to this thing?”

“It really depends. On a nice fall day, it could be thirty of us. In the heat of summer and depth of winter, it’s usually only ten or so. It’s never the exact same crowd.”

“Did most of y’all meet in high school?”

“Mostly, and we span about six graduation years or so. Some of James’s friends come, and most of mine do. It’s a good group. I’ve been so busy that this was really the only way I got to see people for a few years.”

Josh looks down at my hands and notices that I don’t yet have a drink and offers to go inside and grab one for me. He doesn’t even ask what I’d like (he knows) and heads right in. He’s not gone for thirty seconds before Tommy is back at the table.

“Hi again,” he says. “Try not to get him too comfortable with easy-street living. We need him back at work at some point.”

It dawns on me that Tommy may not know Josh’s plans yet, so I take a playful tact.

“I’m pretty good at coming up with projects, but even I will run out of ideas sometime soon. He’s making quick progress in the house.”

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