Page 89 of The Runaway and the Rugged
“How do you like your new bracelet?” Grace asked with her body sprawled out on the tiny sofa as she fiddled with the bracelet that was on her wrist. “I love the colors I picked for yours.”
I smiled, peering down at the “Best Friends 4 Ever” bracelet she put together for me. She brought a whole kit over to make them, even crafting one for her dad, Greta, Griff, and Beau.
“I love it, it’s much better than the one I made for you.”
It took me a minute to get the hang of it, but once I did, I found it surprisingly theraputic. Though hers said the same thing as mine, I threw in a few stars and hearts to make it extra special.
“No, this one is amazing. I’m never taking it off, ever.”
My heart erupted with an explosion of butterflies. Grace was determined to find her way into my heart, and before I knew it, she was becoming someone incredibly important to me. Someone who I didn’t know I needed until I found her.
A wild, spunky girl who had a heart of gold just like her stubborn dad.
“Me neither,” I whispered, my voice clogged with emotion.
For a moment we just sat there, me on the ground peering out the dark window while she continued to twirl the bracelet around.
“Can I… Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” She sounded so unlike the Grace I knew—nervous, unsure—it bothered me.
I twisted my head around to make sure she was okay.
“Of course. You can ask me anything.” I scooted my butt across the wood floor until my back was settled against the couch and her adorable face was close enough to read.
She swallowed, still clearly nervous.
“Do you think it’s too late for me to have a mom?” Her question had caught me off guard, surprise causing tension to curl through the air.
“A mom? Sweetheart, don’t you have one?”
She hadn’t looked at me yet, but she answered with a shrug.
“No, not anymore. She left when I was a baby.”
Christ.
My heart broke for her.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” I laid my hand onto her arm and gave her a gentle squeeze. “And no, it's not too late. But if it never happens, I don’t want you to be upset because you’ll always have Greta, your grandmother… me.”
Her misted-over eyes sought mine out, my heart clenching with every heartstring she continued to pull.
“You could be like a mom,” she whispered. “You make me feel like you’re one.”
A single, stray tear dripped down the curve of my cheek and onto the cushion of the couch. I rarely ever thought of having kids, a family, but when I did, I imagined it to feel a little something like this.
Where you’d do anything in your power to make them feel loved and happy.
“I love that you feel comfortable and safe with me, Grace. You have no idea how much that means to me.” I gently used the pad of my thumb to wipe away the tears that shimmered beneath her eyes. “And I hope you’ll continue to trust me and find comfort in the bond we share.”
I wasn’t her mom. I had no right, no standing to agree with her, because I knew it wasn’t my place. Grace already had a mother, whether she was there or not, and to make things even more complicated, I was simply just a friend.
Maybe not even that anymore.
And as a twelve-year-old girl, she didn’t have the capacity to fully understand yet.
“Like family?” she asked, the hopeful glint in her tone impossible to dismiss.
“Yeah, a little like family.”
