Page 60 of Grace on the Rocks

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WhileBryanshowered,Gracetook a moment to jot down her ideas from the intermission.

Bryan.

God, how embarrassing.She’dbeen calling him by an insulting childhood nickname for over a week now.Shethought about telling him he could taunt her withGorditaGracieas her penance, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

“Everything okay with ourStoicScot?”Wesfinally asked.

“Why are families so adept at making the good things bad?”

“MaybeI’mnot the best person to answer that.”

“Oh my god,I’mso sorry,”Gracesaid.

Now her friend’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Well.Because.You…”

“I am mature enough to realize that having a shit dad might sometimes be worse than losing an okay one.Ionly meant, you know,Iwas six when my dad deployed, eight and a half when he died, my mom hasn’t been super present, but she hasn’t ruined anything.Just, you guys are my family.Soplease don’t ruin anything.”

Grace grabbed her friend and hugged her tight, squeezing into the hug every ounce of thedittothat would sound trite if she said it out loud.

There was a knock at the door, andBryancalled, “Y’allready?” affecting a terribleSouthernaccent.

“That ruined it,”Gracesaid.

“Definitely,”Weslaughed before hollering back, “Hellyeah, we’re ready,” in a far moreSouthernaccent thanGraceconsidered strictly necessary.

“You don’t have any idea what he’s planning,”Gracehissed.

“I’d be up for anything with that man.Andso should you.”

Grace rolled her eyes and stomped past her friend to the door.

“So, what’s the big surprise,Bryan?” she asked, aware that using his correct name as often as possible was just making it weird instead of making up for the past.

In the kitchen, a rock playlist droned softly from aBluetoothspeaker, andBryanstood on the opposite side of the counter like a bartender with his cuffs turned up just enough for the bee tattoo to peek out.Whatmagic in his shower had transformed him from an angry bear into this suave host?

“Welcome.”Hegestured them to the two stools he had pulled up to the bar, and a charcuterie board he’d prepared over to the side. “Ssstillor sparkling?” he asked, holding up a fancy bottle of water in each hand.

“Sparkling, please,”Westrilled. “I’mall about those bubbles.”

“Wise lady.”Bryanset down the bottle and two tumblers.

“Thanks,Bryan,”Gracesaid, unable to stop overusing his name.Sheneeded to say something rude quick to put them back on equal footing.

His eyes flicked to hers. “You’rewelcome,Rios,” he said before she could think of anything, and it made her tummy do a little somersault.

“Aren’t you joining us?”Wesasked, digging into the mouthwatering slices of meat and cheese and briny olives. “Imean, not this part, obviously,” she added, mouth full as she pointed to the meat.

“No, this is all for you.Fillup, and thenIhave a s-special treat.”

“This isn’t the treat?”Graceasked.

“This is an ordinary treat, not a special one.”

“Oh!Welike special treats, don’t weGray?”

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