I know who you are. That’s what I want to say, but I’m still trying to process the fact that she’s here, talking to me.
“Grace, right?” She reaches down and takes my hand, shaking it in greeting.
“Um . . . yes.” I return her handshake, then take my hand back. “Sorry. I’m just a little shocked.”
“May I?” She points at the seat across from me, and I nod, then watch her as she scoots in. “I just thought I’d come by and introduce myself. Maybe we could hang out sometime.”
Wait, what’s going on?
My heart is beating fast now. “Yeah . . . sure. I’d love that.”
“Great!” She digs out a flyer from her pocket, leans forward, and grabs the pen I was using, then scribbles something on the paper. She slides it forward and taps her finger on it. “Sublime Chaos will be playing downtown on the Fourth of July. And that’s my number in case you want to join us or just, you know, hang out or whatever. Just think about it, okay?”
I nod, watching her face for any signs of . . . I don’t know. Insincerity, maybe? But I’m met with genuine interest and kindness.
I don’t know what’s happening. First Sol came over to talk to me, then MJ.
Feeling curious, I glance at the booth where the two boys are sitting. Ivan smiles and waves at me as if we’re long-lost friends. I want to look behind me just to make sure he’s not waving at someone else, but I don’t. Instead, I give him a small, hesitant wave and face MJ.
“Thank you. This is very sweet of you.”
She stands up and surprises me again when she gives me a hug. “We’re practically friends now. Call me, okay?”
I nod again and then watch as she heads back to where the two boys are sitting. Then it hits me. She didn’t ask me for my number in return. I’m not sure what to think of that. And I’m feeling overly emotional at the moment. Given the fact that I’m seriously lacking in the friendship department, I’m suspicious and hopeful at the same time. But mostly hopeful and it’s terrifying.
Before I can overanalyze everything, I rip a piece of paper from my notebook, then quickly scribble today’s date. I write MJ’s and Sol’s names under it, then add “Dare to hope. Here’s to new friendships.”
I fold it and slip it inside my shorts pocket to put in my Beautiful Memories Jar. Then I plug the earbuds into my ears. Scrolling through my Play It Loud playlist mindlessly, I select a random song, and then “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses streams through my ears, and I get lost in my work.
By the time we stop working on the gazebo, it’s almost nine o’clock at night. It’s fully repaired and looks just as good as it did before the storm ripped it apart two days ago. My uncle has been a bit fussy about getting it ready as soon as possible because he’ll be officiating Beverly’s wedding on Saturday. The celebrations are to take place under it, so I took two days off my summer job at Joe’s Auto Body Shop to help.
After the catastrophe, Beverly had been considering changing the venue, stressed we wouldn’t be done in time for the wedding. So we had to hustle, our small group of guys coming together to tackle the mess. Luke was adamant that we inform Beverly the second the gazebo was rebuilt and ready so that the anxious bride could cross one stressful thing off her list.
So when we’re done, I try calling Beverly on the phone, but it just keeps ringing. Doesn’t she have voicemail?
“Why don’t you head to the diner to check if she’s there?” Ivan asks.
“Uh. . .” That’s all I’ve got because Grace.
Even though I plan to ease her into friendship, I wasn’t counting on seeing her again today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. My nerves are still raw from earlier today. Her words still haunt me and make me sick to my stomach. I know she didn’t mean what she said, given the contrite look on her face after those words left her mouth, but still.
Ivan looks up from his cell phone, his eyebrows shooting up. “What? I can’t go. MJ and I have a thing.”
“What thing?”
“Not suitable for priestly ears.” He smirks, and Seth barks out a laugh.
I glare at them while rubbing the back of my neck with my hand. Seth’s mom is picking him up any second now, so he’s out of the picture.
I bite my cheek to stop myself from thinking or saying something that will have me asking God for forgiveness.
“Fine. Go do your thing.” I head to the parking lot with Seth in tow.
“No hug? Come on, darlin’,” Ivan says with a pouty voice.
I chuckle and shake my head, my irritation fading away fast. I can’t even hold a grudge against my best friend. That’s Ivan for you.
I shove my hands in my shorts pockets and glance at Seth. He’s been a little more quiet than usual since arriving at the gazebo this afternoon, but I didn’t have a chance to ask him what’s wrong. He’s come a long way from the broken boy he was when he arrived in Portland five years ago.
He kicks the gravel with his big-sneakered toe, his hands inside his pockets.
“You okay there, kid?” I ask, reaching over and ruffling his straight blond hair.
He jerks his head and scowls up at me. “You realize you’re only two years older than me, right?”
“Yeah. Still older than you, kid.” I grab him in a headlock. He wiggles and tries to slip away.
“Ugh. You stink, asshole.”
I laugh, releasing him after letting him struggle for a few more seconds. He tries to swipe my foot with his, but I side-step, causing him to stumble forward. He laughs and mutters something about one day kicking my ass. At least he doesn’t look sad anymore.
“So what’s up?”
He scratches his head and looks away as we head to the parking lot. “Mom wants us to drive to Baltimore for my brother’s memorial. I don’t want . . . I can’t go back there.”
I study his hunched shoulders and the frown on his face. “Have you told her how you feel?”
He nods, then sighs. “My grandparents still live in Baltimore. I haven’t seen them in a while. They are too old to travel, so they couldn’t fly here.”
His shoulders fall, and he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. “What do I do? I don’t want to tell her I can’t go back there . . .”
This sucks. I don’t even know what to say to make things better. I clear my throat and give his shoulder a comforting squeeze with my hand, then drop it back to my side
“Sometimes we have to do things that make us uncomfortable and we’re forced to face them head-on. It’s okay not to want to go back there, Seth, but you know what you can do? Remember why you loved Baltimore before all the bad things happened. Remember the good things.”
He looks away, staring off in the distance. “That could work, I guess.”
The sound of a car horn interrupts us, and we both look up. Seth’s mom, Beth, waves at us with a smile, then signals her son over. Seth sighs again, and he starts moving toward the car. He stops abruptly and swivels to face me.
“You’re kinda awesome.” He smiles, his eyes shining bright.
Ivan’s words come flooding back. It’s very humbling and terrifying at the same time to have someone put so much respect and trust in you, to be honest. I want to be worthy of these gifts he’s giving me so freely. I want to do what I promised him five years ago and make people believe in the Catholic Church again.