Page 9 of Grace Notes
Grayson steps up beside me, his shoulders squared and the permanent scowl he wears on his lips.
“I called in our measurements several weeks ago. It’s under the name Montgomery.”
Shock causes my mouth to drop open. I know that the tuxes are for my vow renewal, but Grayson is the one who called in the measurements because he has dealt with this store before. He could have easily put the reservation under his last name, but he didn’t. He used Montgomery, and somehow, that feels monumental.
The sales lady, whose name tag reads Julia, preens under Grayson’s attention, but he doesn’t seem to notice. The only woman he ever notices is Georgia.
I’m glad he has someone like that— someone to love the way I love Emryn. Everyone deserves to feel that in their lifetime.
“Yes, right this way,” Julia says. “I’ll get you both set up in a dressing room and bring the tuxes to you.”
We follow her without a word, and she leads us to the back of the store. Then, she spins in her heels, going to grab the tuxes.
Grayson’s face is blank as we wait for her to return.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, casually rubbing the hem of my shirt between my fingers.
It’s silly for me to be nervous, but I am. I’ve known Grayson for a year, but one thing I know about him is that he’s not big on talking— not that I am either, or rather, I didn’t used to be. Going to therapy with Emryn has helped a lot.
“Are you going to anyway?” Grayson asks, cocking an eyebrow.
I shrug. “Probably.”
He sighs. “Go ahead then.”
“Do you still trust God even though he didn’t save Nate?”
For once, Grayson’s emotions aren’t hidden behind a blank stare. He blanches, shock evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw ticks.
Maybe that question oversteps the boundaries we’ve set in our new relationship, but I want to know because Avery is struggling. Every day we’ve sat down at the table this week, she’s refused to say the prayer. She’s always the first to jump in and say it, but now she stays silent, dipping her little shoulders.
And I hate it.
I feel helpless because I don’t know the answers, and I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse if Kip really is sick.
Grayson still hasn’t answered the question, so I rush to explain, hoping that when he hears it’s for Avery, he won’t be so hesitant to talk.
“Avery found out about Kip.”
“Dang it, man,” Grayson says, scrubbing his hand down his face. The hesitance in his eyes is gone when he looks back at me. “That’s rough. I’m sorry. What did you tell her?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I didn’t. I wasn’t there. She asked Emryn about it because she overheard us talking, and now she doesn’t understand why she has to pray about it if it means Kip could still die anyway.”
The tint of my brother’s skin turns a little green, and I hate that he’s here in this position again—dealing with possibly losing someone else, even if his and Kip’s relationship is still a little rocky sometimes.
“Did Emryn explain that we don’t know anything yet—that just because he’s sick doesn’t mean he’s going to die?”
I shake my head. “Yeah. At least she tried. But Avery’s four, and she just doesn’t get it.”
Grayson’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and then looks away, running his hand through his hair. “To answer your original question, yes, I still believe in God, but it took a lot of pushing to get me there. I guess I never necessarily stopped believing, but I was angry for a really long time.”
“How did you get over that anger?”
He grits his teeth. This is hard for him to talk about. Heck, if I lost my best friend at such a young age, it would be hard for me too, so I wait, giving him the time to process.
“I think—” he starts, then stops again, clenching his hands into fists. His face is broken. He looks shattered in a way that only true heartbreak can cause. It’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen from him besides when he’s with Georgia, but that’s different. That’s a love that heals the broken parts of him. I see it in the way he smiles at her. “I think sometimes I wonder if I will ever fully let go of that anger. There are days I catch myself thinking about Nate, and I get so mad because he didn’t get a chance to live his life…But then I realize that maybe life for Nate meant suffering, and God probably knew that. At some point during my grief after Nate died, it hit me that God saw my anger. He doesn’t hold that anger against me, and I can’t hide it from him, so I don’t. I don’t have kids, but—can I give you some advice?”
“Are you going to give it anyway?” I ask, mimicking his words from earlier and trying to lighten the mood.
