Page 66 of Letters of Faith
“I’ll help,” Kip says, standing from his seat and gathering plates in his arms.
He follows me into the kitchen, the swinging door closing behind us, and we are alone for the first time all day.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” he asks, placing the dishes in the sink.
“Go for it,” I say, rolling up my sleeves and turning the water on. My answer comes off gruff, but it’s my defense mechanism. I’ve spent a lot of years creating it, and it’s hard to switch off.
He grabs the drying towel from the top of the counter, and as I wash, he dries.
“I want you to know my story, and if you don’t want anything to do with me after you hear what I have to say, I will respect your decision. I can’t do that until you hear my side, though.”
Nodding, I continue to wash the dishes, waiting to hear what he has to say. I’ve been hard on him. It’s not his fault that my mom didn’t tell him about me, but at the same time, I know she did it to protect me because she didn’t think he would have been good for me. He was a drunk, and she didn’t want to raise a kid around that. Getting to know him now, though, feels like a betrayal to her—and the hard life she lived so that she could protect me.
“When I was a kid, my dad, well—let’s just say he wasn’t the best man. I was an angry kid with a bad home life that I hated coming home to, so I started acting out. But I didn’t realize that it would lead to a life of addiction. Eventually, I guess I got to be too much for my parents to handle—or they just didn’t want to deal with me in the first place.” He stops, studying the plate in his hands before continuing, “They sent me to live with my grandfather. I was sixteen at the time and drinking entirely too much. I lived there for six months before he passed away. Somehow, the system wasn’t notified that I was living with him, so I was alone for the first time in my life. I had to face the decision of either going back to my dad or making it on my own—I chose to do it on my own. But a sixteen year old kid should never have to make the decisions I did. I was lucky that alcohol was all I became addicted to.”
“What happened then?” I ask, scrubbing the plate in my hand harder than it needs. “Where did my mom fit into that timeline?”
He takes a deep breath and lays the towel on the counter.
“I met her when I was twenty-five. By that time, I’d moved around a lot, never really settling anywhere, but your mom—she was something special. I knew it the first time I laid eyes on her. But it’s noteasy to change. I was past the point of being an alcoholic—I just hid it well at first. When she found out, she tried to get me to quit, but I made the wrong decision. Eventually, she left and took you with her, but I didn’t even know about you. Grayson, look at me when I tell you this.” He pauses and waits for me to turn my head to him. I take my time, washing the dish in my hand and drying it before I lift my eyes to him. “I want you to know that I would have been there if I had known about you. I wasn’t the best dad to Brooks, but I’ll tell you like I told him—you two are the best things about my life. Don’t you forget that.”
Clearing my throat, I turn my head away from him and wipe my cheek on my shoulder, pretending to myself that the water there is dishwater and not tears.
“I’ll uh—” I say, swallowing hard before I continue, “I’ll think about what you said.”
“Thank you.” He picks the drying towel back up. We go back to work, letting the silence wrap around us until the swinging door bursts open, and Brooks walks in.
“Are you guys done crying yet? Because that little firecracker of yours said she made pie, Grayson, and I’m not missing out on pie.”
He rubs his stomach, acting like he didn’t just eat a full meal five minutes ago.
Beside me, Kip chuckles, “Brooks, there really isn’t any wonder that your daughter acts the way she does.”
Brooks shrugs, “She gets it honest.”
Then he turns and heads back out the door he came from. When it’s about to swing closed, he sticks his head in again and says, “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”
And that’s why I spend the next ten minutes washing the dishes until they shine. Usually, I would leave them to put up later, but just to spite him, I do that too. By the time I walk back into the dining room, he’s glaring at me like he might give me a black eye, and I smile at him, daring him to try.
Maybe having a little brother won’t be so bad after all.
Chapter 29
Georgia
“The pies are warming over in my apartment,” I say when Grayson returns. “I ran out of room over here while I was cooking. I’ll go grab them and be right back.”
Standing, I turn my back so it’s to the rest of the room, and only Grayson can see my face. “Are you okay?” I mouth.
He gives me a subtle nod and winks at me, and that’s good enough for me right now. I’ll ask him more about his talk with Kip later after everyone has gone.
“I’ll help you,” Harper says.
I whip my head towards her, suspicious of why she’s being so nice all of a sudden, but she’s looking around the room, smiling at everyone until she gets to Grayson. Then that smile turns a little scary.
I’ll be asking Grayson about that later, too.
“Thanks,” I say, having no choice really but to accept.
