Page 31 of Kayak Girl

Mandy laughed at my reaction. “You likely think it’s weird for me to say something like that, but I have my reasons.”

“I’d love to hear them,” I said, unable to wipe the silly smile off my face. I paused from loading the dishwasher and gave Mandy my full attention.

She lowered her voice and continued, “I’ve watched Gray grow up, you know. And through every season of his life, he’s always had this strong, self-righteous streak. Sometimes, I worried it was a side effect of being the pastor’s kid. But then I started praying. I prayed for someone or something to enter his life and help soften his edges, help him see the beauty of grace. And then you arrived, Elle. And from what I can gather, you shook up his perfectly structured world in all the right ways. He’s opened up to us about his recent soul-searching, and it’s just... amazing. You’re an answer to my prayers, and I’m so grateful for you.”

I stared at Mandy for a few seconds, stunned by all that she had said.

“I hope I didn’t scare you with my little speech,” Mandy stammered sheepishly.

“Not at all. I’m so sorry for my silence. I’m just processing. Honestly, I’m touched to be called an answer to prayer. Since I met Gray, I have done so much personal work and have also grown in my walk with God. So, your prayer worked for me, too. I’m overwhelmed by happiness right now.” I moved to give Mandy a hug.

By mid-afternoon, we agreed everyone needed to rest before the summer camp tomorrow, so Jim drove us to the hostel. The drive back was a quiet one, each of us lost in our thoughts, the afterglow of the day’s joy mingling with the silent thrum of anticipation for what was to come.

Stepping out of the car, the sudden appearance of Weston stoic as ever, felt like an intrusion into the dance Gray and I had been performing.

“Where’ve you been, bro? You said you’d help me with building that shelf.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry. Lunch finished later than I expected.”

“Well, can you still help me?”

Gray hesitated. His eyes, usually so decisive and clear, darted between Weston and me, revealing an inner turmoil that mirrored my own. It’s not like he owed me his time, we hadn’t made any plans. But the intensity of his gaze, when it finally met mine, felt like a direct line to my soul, asking a question he couldn’t voice.

In that suspended moment, I was torn. Every fiber of my being wanted to scream for him to stay, to continue getting to know each other beyond the surface. Yet, a sliver of rationality whispered that perhaps this moment of hesitation was a necessary pause, a chance to breathe and not rush the fragile beginnings of something that held the promise of so much more.

With a heart that felt like it was being stretched too thin, I mustered a semblance of casualness I was far from feeling. “Go, I need a nap anyway,” I said, my voice betraying none of the inner chaos that threatened to consume me.

Gray seemed to search my face for a moment, weighing my words, perhaps sensing the effort it took to utter them. Then, with a decision that seemed to cost him, he nodded to Weston. “Alright, I’ll be right over. But first, let me walk Elle to her room.”

That simple gesture, his reluctance to part, even for a moment, filled me with warmth.

As we reached my door, Gray leaned in, his presence enveloping me. “I’d much rather stay with you than help Weston,” he confessed in a hushed tone. “But I told him I would, and I need to talk to him. Can I message you later?” he asked, as he squeezed my hand.

I smiled and nodded. I’d use the time to update Becky on this wild turn of events and maybe even squeeze in a nap.

Chapter 22

GRAY

Knocking on Weston’s door, I braced myself for the conversation ahead. As the door swung open, Weston’s imposing figure filled the frame. He offered a grunt that passed for a greeting in his book, and I trailed behind him into the chaos of his latest project—a workshop that was slowly taking shape amidst a sea of sawdust and timber. The transformation was impressive.

“It’s looking good bro,” I said, slapping his back lightly.

He merely nodded, his attention briefly meeting mine before diving back into the task at hand. Together, we delved into the creation of a shelving unit, the rhythmic sounds of hammering and sawing filled the air. I was bursting to talk about Elle, yet the words seemed lodged in my throat. It wasn’t until we had wrestled a particularly troublesome plank into place that I found the courage.

“Hey, I’ve got something to tell you,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow.

Weston looked at me, his expression wary. “What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to pursue a relationship with Elle.”

His reaction was immediate. “Are you serious, Gray? That’s a bad idea.”

I leaned against the workbench, meeting his gaze. “I know you have concerns, and I understand them. But this is something I have to do. I can’t explain it, but I feel it.”

Weston shook his head, clearly not convinced. “You’re playing with fire, bro. Why the rush? What about your rule about vacationers? There are at least ten eligible women at church who you can take your time to get to know. And bonus—they are likely to stick around.”

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of excitement and determination. “I get that. There’s just one problem—she’s the only woman I want. I know it’s risky. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Time’s not on my side as she will be leaving soon. So I want to explore a relationship with her while I can. I’ll keep it low-key, I promise.”

---