Page 1 of Graciously His

Chapter 1

Nate

Twenty Years Ago

Isaw her first.

Nick and I were twelve, too old to be playing at the park. The au pair had us that day and all she wanted to do was sit in the shade while the two of us tried to remember how to enjoy swinging across the monkey bars or running up the slide.

The last time we went to a park, I remember thinking, Mum was still alive…

Mum died the year before, her last days spent in a dark room, machines breathing for her. Dad spent her final hours with the woman who would become our new stepmother. Mum slept, unable to wake up enough to say goodbye anyway. It was both loud and quiet in that room, the whoosh of air in the mechanical lungs, the beeping of her heartbeat, and the silence of her voice, choked by the tube down her throat.

I forced the hospital from my mind, scrubbing my hands down my jeans to bring myself back to the present. No point in dwelling on the time before. Before she died. Before Dad stopped caring.

Looking around the old wooden playground, I asked Nick what he wanted to do. He mentioned playing Sandman, that old kids’ game, but I shook my head.

“Let’s do pull-ups, then,” he said, indicating the orange monkey bars. “I bet I can do more than you.”

I snorted. We both knew I was the stronger twin.

“Come on,” he said, his signature smile in place. “I bet I beat you this time.”

It wasn’t the competitive jab that tipped me towards saying yes; it was that smile, crinkling his eyes and showing only the gums over his front teeth.

I looked around. The park had three structures, all silvered wood at least a decade old. Something caught my eye behind Nick, the flash of a lacy hem around the corner of one wooden wall.

“Fine,” I said. “You start.”

Nick jumped and caught a middle rung. Slowly, he pulled himself up until his head was between two bars. I imagined them closing horizontally, a playground guillotine.

“That’s one,” I said, “keep going.”

I watched his next pull-up, trying and failing to shake the image of his head being lopped off. A soft noise issued from somewhere close and I remembered the flash of lace. A distraction. Good.

Certain Nick was engaged in his next pull-up, I peered through the shadows beneath the structure to find a pair of eyes looking back. A girl stared at me from between two wooden slats. I grinned, hoping to seem friendly. She gave me a playful look and disappeared. I ducked out the other side, watching as that edge of lace whipped around the next structure. I followed, half an ear on Nick, who was up to five pull-ups.

I almost caught her at the top of the structure, but she launched herself down the yellow tube slide. All I got was the impression of pretty features—big eyes, button nose, small mouth—but I was intrigued. A quick glance to make sure the au pair was absorbed in her book, and I followed the girl down the slide. It was such a tight, awkward fit that I had to propel myself with my hands.

I landed in the wood chips at the bottom, already looking around. Another glimpse of lace beneath the slide. I drew near, moving the way Mum had when she’d approached the feral kittens she used to rescue.

“Come here, little heart,” I said, using Mum’s name for every cat she came across.

Distantly, I heard Nick ask a question.

The girl slipped under the curve of the slide, her back to the wooden staircase. She had wavy brown hair past her shoulders and the prettiest way of moving, even when she stood still. Each breath gave the impression of weight, of intentions settling from her lungs down to her toes. She was nearly the same height as me and, without her innocent frolicking, I saw something dark in her eyes.

“Who are you?”

Another couple of steps and I would be at arm’s length.

“Grace.”

“Nate,” I said forcefully, as if I might hold her there with my name alone. “We’ve been here for weeks and I’ve never seen you before.”

Her eyes darted to the line of townhouses across from the playground. “Mother doesn’t like me leaving the house, but I saw you were here.”

I followed her gaze to the house at the end. Even at a distance, I could see cracked window sills and peeling paint on the front door. It stood half-open.