Page 69 of From Ice to Grace
“It’s high time, Sweetheart.”
“You know I always come around,” I say, pulling Aunt Kat into a hug. She smells like lavender and the faint floral perfume she’s worn since I was a kid. She squeezes extra hard before she leans back, still gripping my arms.
“Let me take a good look at you,” she says, her gaze sweeping over me. I don’t miss the moment it pauses on my eyes, knowing she can see the dark circles beneath them. Not to mention the bandage above my eye. “You need to sleep my boy.”
“I need a lot more than sleep, Aunt Kat.” I pull out her chair before taking my own.
The coffee shop smells like dark roast and pastries. The faint hissing of the coffee machines in the background fill the space along with soft chatter of the rest of the patrons. The waiter brings us each a menu and I take the time to hide behind it until she’s settled and hopefully distracted.
“So what brings you to town?” I ask, ordering a double espresso while my Aunt orders tea and lemon meringue pie. “When I called to check in, I didn’t expect you’d be in New York.”
I’ve been ignoring her calls for long enough. I needed to touch base, to get back to the people who care about me. When I called her, I figured we’d have a five minute phone call, enough for me to set her at ease about me. Instead, she was in town already.
“It wasn’t the plan,” she says, her eyes crinkling with a soft smile. “I’ve been waiting for months for this art exhibit. Booked the tickets ages ago. I knew you’d be playing and training, so I didn’t expect to be able to sit down with you. Guess God works in strange ways, huh?”
I nod, my hand covering my mouth as I watch her. She’s always been comfortable talking about her faith, and I never thought too much about it. But now it’s like a tug in my chest. Everyone is going to church, talking about God, praying…except me.
What am I missing?
How’s God working in everyone’s life except my own?
“Have you heard from Dad?” I ask, knowing that it’s the one thing that her faith can’t fix.
Her smile dims. “Not in a while,” she says, accepting the steaming teapot from the waiter. “You?”
“Sure.” I take a sip of my scalding hot espresso. “Not that I pick up to hear what he has to say.”
She sighs, pouring herself a cup of tea and stirring in a bit of honey.
“Declan, you have to learn how to forgive your dad for his shortcomings.”
I scoff and look away.
“Would you not want to be forgiven of yours?” she asks, her gaze firm and steady. “I’ve seen the news. I’ve seen the things you’re struggling with. Don’t think your dad fell face first into the hole he’s living in now. He slowly dug that thing, bit by bit over the years.”
Her words hit hard. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. But somehow with every drink I take, I’m even more mad at my dad. I blame him for my own tendency to run to a bottle when things get a bit hard.
“I don’t want to see you heading down the same path, Sweetheart. And as much as you might think your anger toward him is keeping you safe from becoming him…it’s actually a shovel. The enemy is handing you the very tool to dig yourself that same hole.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “I just remembered why I don’t answer your calls when I’m in trouble.”
“I also know you call back when you’re ready to face the truth.”
She’s right to call me out on it. There’s truth to her words, truth I need to hear. I might not like it, I might not agree with it…but my feelings on the matter won’t shift what simply is.
I huff out a laugh and lean back. “Speaking of truth…I’m getting married.”
Her teacup stops halfway to her lips. “Married?”
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone light but steady. I’d have to practice to keep a straight face anyway. From now on this is going to be the story I tell people. “Things happened fast, but she’s…someone I want in my life.”
Aunt Kat blinks, and then a slow smile spreads across her face.
“What?” I ask her, taking another sip of my espresso.
She takes a bite of her pie, holding her finger up until she finishes. The cream pearls on her grey sweater gleam in the light of the coffee shop, her floral scarf wrapped around her neck in the same way it’s always been. Aunt Kat has always been constant, and somehow telling her about my marriage with Avah makes it more real than when I told Brady about it.
“I’m glad you found someone,” she says finally, shrugging. “What’s her name?”
