Page 25 of A Layperry's Hope
I nod my head. “They seem lovely. Maybe we should have them over for dinner this weekend?”
Scrintum lets out a squeal of excitement. “I would love that! I’ll bring some dessert!”
Ghenie lets out a long sigh but I can see the smile he’s pretending to hide. He loves this. I can’t say that I hate it.
Plun cups Ghenie’s face gently, his thumb rubbing over his cheek. “How’s your head?”
“Loud. I could use a walk.”
“Why don’t we take Maribel and you two can relax?”
“I would like that.”
I get Maribel out of the chest harness, kiss her cute chubby cheeks, and then hand her over to Plun. She immediately starts to smile in a way that lets me know she’s going to need a diaper change soon. Perfect timing.
I place a hand on Ghenie’s lower back. “Shall we?” He nods his head. “It was nice meeting you. I look forward to getting to know you better at dinner.”
“You too, son,” Plun says. The words were simple yet they strike a chord within my heart. He called me son. He called meson. I’m not sure how I feel about that. My chest warms but at the same time, that’s yet another terrifying thing, to allow another person in.
For now, I focus on getting Ghenie out of the crowd and into a quieter place so he can rest his mind. Timalah and Miles fall into step with us once we’re on the outskirts of town.
“To the water?” Timalah asks and Ghenie nods his head. He reaches down and laces our fingers together, leaning against my side.
The smell of the salt hits my nose before our feet hit the sand. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of this place, this view.
“I know a special place,” Timalah says, guiding us to a small alcove naturally made into the side of a hill. “This place is sacred. It holds many, many memories. Fondness practically radiates from the stone, from the sand.”
Timalah shares a look with Miles and it takes all of my willpower not to wrinkle my nose at them. They totally did it here. Gross.
Ghenie steps inside, ducking his head. He looks around in wonder. There’s some type of foliage here, lighting up against the stone, allowing us to see.
“It is beautiful.”
“Just like you,” I say, turning towards Ghenie.
“Oh my god.”
I freeze, turning back towards my best friend. I hold up my hand. “Don’t. Don’t you dare. I’m not afraid to throw you in the sea right now.”
He opens his mouth but I step towards him. He holds up his hands in surrender before pretending to zip his lips closed.
“We should go,” Timalah says, leaning down to kiss Miles’ head. “Let them have a moment alone.”
The last time Timalah kept throwing looks like that, I found out I was a dad. I narrow my eyes at him but he makes a hasty retreat out of this little cave he’s led us to. That was weird. What the fuck was that about? Is a giant snake about to jump out and eat us? Surely my best friend wouldn’t have a hand in my ultimate demise. He better take care of Maribel when I’m gone.
Once they’ve made their way out, I turn towards Ghenie. “What was that about?”
“No idea what you mean,” he says right away and now I’m even more suspicious. Ghenie walks deeper into this little cave, running his hand over the stone wall. “In all my time here, I have never seen this place before.”
There are carvings in the stone. Ghenie’s fingers rest over T+M carved by a knife and I smile. Is this Timalah and Miles or has another couple come and carved their initials into the wall?
“This one,” Ghenie says softly, tilting his head like he’s trying to listen as he runs his fingers over a smiley face. “A young man came here and found solace during a storm. He drew this smiley face to show he made it through.”
“This place holds a lot of memories,” I say softly, suddenly feeling like I’m intruding on something special. The voices in Ghenie’s head have a lot to say about this place.
“So many,” Ghenie agrees. “This could be a special place. Something sacred.” He turns around, looking at the entrance. “What if we redesigned it slightly, opening the mouth and allowing people to come here. What if--” his voice trails off until his eyes finally find mine. “What if we found a way to leave the Ancestors here. Make this a place where anyone can come and pray to them, to find solace in their presence. Do you think such a thing could be possible?”
My heart leaps into my throat. This might have been a tradition for a very long time, but knowing how loud the voices can be has always made me wish that Ghenie didn’t have to have them. They can be demanding and loud and straining, yet Ghenie has always held their presence with grace, allowing them a place at the table. Ghenie deserves peace if it’s possible.
