Page 8 of Letters of Faith
“Georgia.”
“We have to go back.”
I shake my head. “We don’t have to do anything. Besides, I need to talk to you about something—alone.”
This piques her interest, and she finally lets go of the hem of her dress, turning her body towards me.
“About what?” She eyes me warily. The woman has been dealt a bad hand here lately, and I don’t blame her for being suspicious.
“Your plans now that—well, you know.”
“Didn’t you just tell me I didn’t have to make any decisions?” she asks, anger lacing her voice. “I don’t know, Grayson. I don’t know what I’m doing because all I can think about is that my husband is no longer here. How am I supposed to make any decisions when that’s all I can think about?”
She’s worked herself up to where she’s practically yelling. Sadness shutters over her eyes. When I brought it up, I knew this would be a topic she wouldn’t want to discuss, and she’s right—she shouldn’t have to make any big decisions right now. But eventually, she will have to, and when that time comes, I want to make sure she’s taken care of. Nate was my best friend, and I owe it to him to take care of his girl.
I’ve never been one to talk about feelings or share my emotions—lifenever cared if I was sad, but I’m trying for Georgia—for Nate. So that’s why I say, “Look, you don’t have to make any decisions yet, and I know how you’re going to react to this—but before you react, hear me out, okay?”
“No.” Her answer is firm, immovable, like a brick wall, but she doesn’t realize I learned to be a wrecking ball a long time ago.
“You haven’t heard the question yet,” I say.
“I don’t need to. I know you. You’re going to offer to take care of something that isn’t your place to take care of. It’s what you’ve always done—for both Nate and me—and while I love you for it, I can’t let you.”
Love me—I’m a traitor for how those words make the hairs on my neck stand up. There was a time, before she was Nate’s girl, when I thought one day I would deserve a girl like Georgia, but then I realized that girls like her are always meant to end up with men like Nate. So—I stepped aside and cheered my best friend on as he got his girl.
“Then you should also know that I’m not one to give up easily,” I deadpan. “Anyway, this would be as much for you as it would be for me.”
“How so?” she asks, wary once again.
“As you know, I’m not much of a people person—” I start.
Georgia coughs, “Understatement.”
Shooting her a look, I shake my head. It’s another sign of life.
“As I was saying, I’m not much of a people person, and my assistant retired last month. I haven’t gotten around to interviewing anyone. I don’t know what your plans are for going back to work, but maybe you could take the job and save me the hassle. It doesn’t have to be permanent—just until you’re ready to find something else.”
I don’t look at her, afraid she will see right through me if I do. The moment stretches to a minute, the silence stomping on each one of my nerves.
“I don’t know, Gray.”
“Today has been a lot for you, and I wasn’t planning on throwing this at you. Take your time. I don’t need an answer right away. You and Nate are two of my best friends. This isn’t a pity offer. This is me wanting to help my friend. Plus, I may not be a people person, but I’m not as grumpy with you. Working with someone who doesn’t constantly get on my nerves would be nice.”
A smile wavers on her lips—brief, and then it’s gone—but it was a smile all the same.
“How do you know I won’t get on your nerves? Nate says I’m a handful. Said—Nate said.”
The mood, while not exactly happy before, plummets into despair.
“It’s okay, Georgia Peach. You won’t get on my nerves, but I promise I’ll continue to remind you how much of a handful you are,” I say, throwing her a sad smile.
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to because I’m telling her the truth. I’ll make sure that all the good parts of Nate live on in her memory.
My house comes into view as I take the curve that leads to my driveway. When I bought the place, it was a dump. I converted the detached garage into an apartment until I could fix the main house. It took me several years, but it was worth it. It’s the first house I’ve ever lived in that I didn’t have to worry about mice crawling across me at night or food being overrun with roaches. My mom tried—she really did—but she was a single mom, raising a kid that didn’t give her a lot of breaks. I was angry—at her and the world—and made a lot of bad decisions. Nate and Georgia were my saving grace. They will never know just how much they saved me. I owe them everything. It’s why, when I tell Georgia that offering her this job is doing me a favor, I’m telling her the truth. It’s a way for me to save her like she did me.
“Stay tight,” I say, opening my truck door and stepping out.
I round the front of the truck until I’m standing on her side and opening the door. Placing my hand out, she takes it, and I help her out of the truck.
