Page 1 of Hello Handsome
PROLOGUE
GRAYSON
“You haveto get out of the house,” Jack said, flicking on my bedroom light.
I winced at the brightness, lying amongst rumpled bedcovers while he stepped into my room doing God knows what. I scrubbed my hand over my face with several days of stubble, eyes still burning as they adjusted to the light. “I can’t go out,” I replied, my voice scratchy from disuse.
I’d held it together through the end.
Through the funeral and the days after until the kids were back in school from winter break.
And I justcouldn’tanymore.
I knew I was the world’s shittiest dad and wished more than once that I had been the one to die instead of Maya. But no, my five boys, who were currently at school with fully functioning adults, were left with me.
Through the grief-induced haze that seemed to cover every waking moment, I could see my oldest son stepping up. While I went through the motions of simply breathing, he got his brothers out the door to meet the school bus. I could tell howangrymy second eldest, Knox, was with me. Ford was constantly on a run or practicing football passes in the backyard,had been since Maya’s diagnosis. Hayes threw tantrums more often than not, tossed in waves of grief like me. And Bryce clung to me and his brothers, not really knowing what was going on or how incapable I was as a dad right now.
It felt wrong to get up and go on with life, even with sons who needed me, while my wife lay six feet under.
But my friend Jack, who ran the next farm over, was already digging through my dresser, opening and shutting drawers. He grabbed the last pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, then closed the drawer. “At this point, you don’t have a choice.” He passed me my clothes and said, “Get in the shower, and for God’s sake, shave your face.”
I glared at him, but he wasn’t budging. “Go,” he ordered. His voice was firm, but there was a kindness in his eyes that nearly broke me. I didn’t have it in me to argue.
My muscles protested with each step as I walked to the bathroom. When I reached for my razor in the medicine cabinet, all of Maya’s medications and ointments stared back at me. There were refill dates on them.
I let out a choked sound at the sight. I used to resent that she needed so much medicine, that the cancer was ravaging her body so. At the end, death was a gift while life was a curse. But with her alive, at least I had hope for a miracle. Now that hope was gone with my wife.
“You good?” Jack called through the bathroom door, making me jump out of my thoughts.
I clenched my eyes shut to block out my view and forced a ragged breath into my lungs. “Fine.”
I counted down from five and then opened my eyes again. Muscle memory took over as I got my razor and shut the mirror. I went through the motions of shaving my face and then stepped into the shower. If only muscle memory could train my brain to stop thinking of all the horrific moments since Maya’s diagnosis.
But those memories would stay with me forever, flashing through my mind uninvited no matter how much it hurt.
With my body washed, I got out of the shower, dried off, and tugged on my clothes. Underwear from a six-pack. Jeans Maya bought me. A T-shirt gifted to me on Father’s Day that said WORLD’S BEST DAD.
What a joke.
But there wasn’t enough clean laundry for me to be picky.
So I ran a comb through my graying, too-long hair, and walked out of the bathroom to find Jack waiting for me in my bedroom. He’d made my bed with fresh sheets and sprayed something that smelled like lavender that Maya probably kept with the linens.
As I managed a choked-up thank you, he put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Come on. We’re getting lunch.”
I crumpled at the thought of seeing people in town and all their pitying looks. But Jack shook his head, giving me a no-nonsense look as he half-guided, half-dragged me out of the bedroom. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but you gotta put yourself back in the world. If your boys have to get up and go to school, you can get up and eat a meal.”
That tugged at my gut, making me feel even more guilty. The boys were already better men than I’d ever be. But Jack was right. That’s why we were friends—we told each things like they were. There was no tiptoeing around each other.
When we stepped out of the bedroom, I could hear the sink running. My eyebrows drew together as I started toward the kitchen and found his wife at my sink. I looked between my two friends. “You don’t have to do this,” I said weakly.
Deidre blew a curly lock of hair out of her face and said, “She was my friend, too.”
I shrugged on my brown Carhartt coat and walked to Jack’s red truck waiting in the driveway.
We didn’t talk as I climbed into the passenger seat and he started driving toward Cottonwood Falls, the small town just ten minutes away from my country home.
There wasn’t much in the way of dining options there, so I wasn’t surprised when he pulled up to Woody’s Diner. And since it was the middle of the afternoon, the parking lot was mostly empty.
