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“He loved you,” his dad finally said.
“Like a brother, yes.”
“How did it go? With his family?”
Grady looked down, held Deacon’s hand tighter. “He didn’t get to tell them. He got in a car accident on the way.”
“I’m so sorry, son.” Son. How long had it been since he’d called Grady that?
“It’s how I met Deacon. When Nathan died, I lost the only family I had left. For years after that, nothing felt right, but then eventually, I moved to Everett, Nathan’s hometown. Deacon is his brother-in-law… He lost his wife three years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Deacon replied.
“I know I don’t deserve it, that nothing I do or say can make up for the past, but if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying. I want you back in our lives, Grady—you and your fella both.”
Grady looked at Nathan’s letter again, tried to imagine what his brother would do. “Yes,” he said simply.
It was a start.
Chapter 34
Deacon
It had been four days since Chester Dalton had given Grady the letter from Nathan, and Deacon was still trying to wrap his mind around it. There were times he’d told himself Patricia was giving him signs that being with Grady was okay, that she wanted it for him—the dream, or the chimes at just the right time—but this went beyond that. Somehow, a letter Nathan wrote seven years ago had helped give Grady his family back—or at least put him on the right track to make that happen.
They’d spent the last few days either at the hospital with Chester, or at the house with the rest of the family. There were awkward moments—something said or a painful memory. Grady had spent time one-on-one with his sisters and his parents, all trying to find their footing again, working through the past but not forgetting it.
The only time Deacon had stayed at the hotel alone was when the family went to see Chester so he could tell them about his diagnosis. Grady had come home to him devastated that day.
The kids, though, it was easy with them. They took to Grady instantly, and Grady to them. They’d been innocent in all of it, just like Grady had been, victims of backward ideals and bigotry.
Deacon liked watching him with them. It made him want to see Grady with his own nieces and nephews more, and sometimes he’d wonder if their families would meet one day. If they’d get together for holidays, or if Grady’s family would come to Everett and taste his ice cream.
Every evening they went back to the hotel, their nights full of stories of what happened that day, and then flesh against flesh, touching, stroking, feeling, holding.
He loved those moments, soaked them all in, let them ease the invisible scars.
“What are you thinking about?” Deacon asked as they lay in bed that morning. Chester would be getting out of the hospital that day, and they planned to spend the day with the family, then head back to Briar County after a night’s rest.
“Nothing…everything… It’s been an eventful few days.”
Deacon blew out a breath. “You can say that again. It’ll be good to be home, though. I miss Sundae’s Best. I haven’t taken time off like this in years.”
Grady rolled over and faced him, a half-smile curling his lips. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.”
Grady sighed, rubbing his hand up and down Deacon’s arm. “I’m gonna miss ’em. I know I can come back now, that things are different, but it doesn’t feel like enough time.”
It hadn’t been, really. Not after all the time they’d spent apart. “Just because I have to head back doesn’t mean you do too. I’m sure if you talked to Roe, he’d give you more time.” Roe would find a way to make things work at Covington Supply Co. It was the kind of man he was.
Grady thought for a minute, then said, “Nah, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” Deacon should have thought of it himself—obviously Grady would want to stay.
“I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t rush things, and I don’t want to leave Roe in a hard spot. I already had to leave last-minute.” Grady leaned in, kissed him. “Come on. Let’s shower before we go.”
Grady seemed fine as they got ready for the day, then headed to the hospital. They were picking Chester up and taking him home.
Grady’s dad was a quiet man who didn’t say much, but when he did, a person paid attention. All Deacon could think about was what he’d told them—about his early-onset dementia. His memory would begin to fade; they had no idea how quickly. Grady had just gotten his father back, and who knew how long it would be until he lost him? They’d said he was stage two, with very mild cognitive decline, and they hadn’t said it was a rapidly progressing dementia, so it would likely be many years. Still, Deacon couldn’t imagine being away from his family if the situation were reversed.
