Page 18 of Grace Notes
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The house is dark as we pull up the driveway. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this time with Brooks—and I’m glad we went—but now the realities settle in as Brooks shuts off the engine and walks to my side, opening the door for me.
“How do you think it went?” I ask, my hand shaking as I place it in Brook’s waiting one.
“Well, the house is still standing, and we didn’t get any phone calls. That at least has to be a good sign.”
I sigh and nod, squeezing Brooks’s hand as we walk up the front steps. Brooks must feel the same nervous tension in his stomach because his grip is just as tight on my hand.
With quiet movements, I open the door, turning the handle slowly so it doesn’t squeak. I feel like a teenager sneaking out tosee Brooks again. Only now we are sneaking in, and the person on the other side isn’t my parents—it’s our daughter who does not like to be disturbed when sleeping.
She gets that from her dad.
Despite my best efforts, the hinges on the door creak as I push it open, and Brooks and I both freeze. If someone were recording this, they’d get a good laugh. We have to look comical, sneaking into our own house.
A shadow appears to the right, and I let out a yelp, unprepared to find Kip standing in a doorway in the dark.
But even in the dark, I can see the grin on Kip’s face.
“It’s past your curfew,” he says, a stern look on every part of his face except his lips. His smile gives him away.
“Can we be grounded?” Brooks asks, “I wouldn’t mind a timeout with my wife.”
Gasping, I smack his chest, but when I turn around to look at him, he’s grinning at me, unfazed.
“Did we wake you, Kip? We’re sorry. We tried to be quiet.”
On nights that Kip watches Avery for us to go on our dates, he sleeps in the guest bedroom. It’s why it’s so weird to find him standing here now. He always sleeps through us coming home.
“Nah,” he says, avoiding looking at Brooks and me, “just couldn’t sleep.”
Worry sinks deeper into my gut.
“Are you okay?” Brooks asks from behind me, his voice a rumble against the silence.
“Just dandy, son.” Kip’s smile grows wider, but I can’t help but notice that it doesn’t look real. There’s a stiltedness to it tonight that doesn’t usually exist.
“Have you heard from your doctor?” I hate to be the one who asks, but someone needs to. We’ve all been tiptoeing around this topic, and eventually, we have to talk about it. Tonight seems as good of a time as any.
He shakes his head. “Nothing other than what I’ve already heard. We need to do a biopsy to know what’s going on.”
The pain and worry on his face have me stepping away from Brooks and wrapping Kip up in a hug. His arms come around me, one hand resting on the back of my head and the other on my upper back. We stay like that for a moment, neither one saying anything. When I feel his hand start to tremble, I lean back and look him in the face. “Why haven’t you scheduled the biopsy, Kip?”
“I’ve tested death a lot in my life. There’s no reason I should be standing in front of you today—not with the number of bad decisions I’ve made in my lifetime—but I’m—I’m afraid that now that I’ve got my life together and have my family around—” he stops, getting choked up on his words, and when he speaks again his voice is rough, breaking as he tries to get the words out. “I just want to be oblivious for a little while longer.”
“Dad,” Brooks says from behind me, stepping closer to where we are standing, “that’s not how this works. You have to make the appointment because the longer you let it go, the worse it could be. Or—it could be nothing at all, but we will never know unless you schedule the appointment.”
Kip steps out of my hold and glares at his son from under bushy eyebrows. “I don’t need a lecture from my own kid.”
Brooks mirrors his glare, placing his hands on his hips, and it strikes me at that moment how similar they look—but now is probably not a good time to mention that. Instead, I step between the two as Brooks says, “Seems to me like you do. You’re a stubborn old man.”
“Brooks,” I scold.
He sighs and looks at his dad. “Look, you don’t have to do this alone—youwon’tdo it alone. We will be there the whole time, but we are all living in limbo right now. It’s timeto schedule the appointment. If not for you, do it for your granddaughter. She’s scared, Dad.”
Kip’s face softens at the mention of Avery, the defiance slowly leaking out of him. He’s proven he would do anything for her. “You’re right. I’ll make the appointment.”
Brooks nods, his face solemn. “Thank you.”
