Page 10 of Letters of Faith
I roll my eyes, thankful she can’t see me. She acts like I haven’t been avoiding her, and the rest of the town for that matter, all day. They mean well, but I’m stuck under their microscope as they all wait for me to break.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, controlling my tone to hide the irritation.
“Darling, I’ve been calling you all morning.”
“It’s been a busy morning.” I hate lying to her. She’s a good mom—just smothering and blunt. I’ve been dreading this day for weeks, partly because with each day that passes, I seem to lose another memory ofNate—the way he smelled, the timbre of his voice—but also because I knew it wouldn’t pass without phone calls and visits from the entire town. Their intentions are good—they have been since Nate died—but they all have advice for something they haven’t experienced. I’ve taken that advice and smiled each time it was offered, but today, I can’t. Instead, I’ve avoided them.
“You work too hard. You really should slow down.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Did you need something?”
The door to my right opens as I wait for my mom to respond. Grayson steps out, dressed immaculately in a suit and handsome as ever—impartially speaking, of course. With a clean-cut beard accentuating the line of his jaw and blue eyes that stare into a girl’s soul, the man could have any girl he wanted.
He walks towards me, pulling on the edges of his sleeve. Tattoos peek out from below his cuff link, and one, in particular, draws my attention—the orchid he got the week after Nate died. Each of his tattoos has a story—a reason behind why he got it. Whenever he would get a new one, he would regale Nate and me with the story behind it, but he refuses to tell me anything about this one. At first, I was worried it was because Nate was the buffer for our friendship, and with him gone, Grayson would slip away, too. But a year later, Grayson’s still around, and our friendship has changed—grown. I just wish it hadn’t taken Nate dying for it to happen.
“Georgia, are you listening to me?” Mom says, pulling my attention back to her.
“Sorry. What were you saying?” I ask.
“I’m worried about you. Nate wouldn’t want this for you. He would want you to live.”
I shake my head, knowing that she can’t see me. Grayson, now standing beside me, arches a brow in silent question. His presence is distracting, pulling my attention away from everything else until he’sall I can focus on. I’ve chalked it up to the fact that we’ve been each other’s stronghold the last year, making us in tune.
“I am living, Mom.”
“No, honey, you aren’t. When you aren’t at work, you’re at home—and not even your own home. You haven’t gone back. You’ve been staying in Grayson’s guest house, and while I’m thankful he has been there for you, you’re hiding behind him so you don’t have to face your reality.”
An audible gasp slips past my lips, drawing Grayson’s brow higher. Anger burrows deep inside my chest. She doesn’t know what it feels like to have the other half of your heart buried in the ground.
“I’m trying—surviving the only way I know how.”
Her sigh sends static through the phone. I pull it away from my face, just enough that it doesn’t crackle in my ear.
“I know you are. Maybe you can start with small steps. There’s a function at the church this weekend. You haven’t been for a while—”
Blinking, I bite my lip so I don’t tell her that it is intentional—that I feel like God let me down. I try to keep the angry tears at bay, but a single one slips out. I dash it away with the back of my hand, hoping that Grayson doesn’t see.
When I glance his way, though, I know he has.
He’s become protective since Nate died, and I’ve let him because he’s the only person who really understands what it feels like. Nate was his best friend, too—the other half of his soul. It’s hard for Grayson to let people in, but he let Nate and me in. I’ve clung to his strength this past year, but that’s only part of the truth. I’ve been afraid that with Nate gone, Grayson would lose the man he’s fought hard to become. He did okay for a while, but then he found out about his dad and brother a few months back. Kip, his dad, had come around claiming that he never knew about Grayson, which was like a shot in the heart for Gray. His mom had died a few years back, and I know he wonderswhy she never told him. Gray loved his mom, but their relationship was tough. She was a single mom trying to take care of her kid, and he was a rough teenager with a mom who was always busy and a dad who was not around. He will never admit it, but I think he wonders if it would be different if he had known. Plus, when Kip crashed into Grayson’s life, so did his brother, Brooks. I had hoped that maybe a relationship would bloom between them, but then Kip asked Grayson to give Brooks a job. We didn’t talk about it, but I was angry for him. This new family didn’t want to get to know Grayson, one of the greatest men I know. They wanted something that would benefit them.
Gray hasn’t told me what happened in the interview with Brooks, but I can see him slipping, slowly losing control of his anger he’s worked hard to keep in check.
Grayson’s eyes bore into the side of my face, and for both our sake, I need to get off the phone with my mom.
“I’ll think about it, Mom—that’s all I can promise you.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “I guess that’s all I can ask for. Take care of yourself today, honey.”
Hanging up, I turn to face Grayson.
“Well—that went as expected,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
His features remain stern as he takes me in, looking for a chink in the armor I’ve put on today. I steel my spine under his scrutiny.
“How are youreallydoing today, Peach?”
A small smile slips onto my lips. Grayson’s always called me that. When I asked him about it in middle school, he said it was because I was as sweet as his mom’s peach cobbler. This was around the time my crush was at an all-time high, so my heart nearly beat out of my preteen chest because I felt like he saw me. Then, the next week, I saw him holding hands with Molly Jenkins. She was the cheer captain—the type of girl that fit Grayson—and I was a book nerd. It was then I decided it was best for Grayson and me to be friends, realizing hewould never see me that way. When Nate asked me out in high school, I was glad I never told Grayson how I felt. Nate was the guy for me—we made sense because while he was popular and played football just like Grayson, he was safe, and I thrived in safe.
