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It occurs to me then, as I ask the random question, that I don’t even know Grant’s first name. On the day we met, he told me that Grant was his last name. So what’s his first? Why hasn’t he told me? Why haven’t I asked?
I shake the thought away to focus on my conversation with Mack.
“Nope.” He’s got almost a smile on his lips as he focuses forward on the beat-up road we’ve been driving on.
“Mack. Mack. Mack.” My mind goes blank as I try to figure it out. “I can’t think of anything else. Tell me!”
“Malachi.”
“Seriously? I’ve never met anyone with that name before.”
“Well, you have now.” He turns to grin at me.
“I like it. And I’m very happy to meet you, Malachi.” I mean it. I’m not sure anyone else could have managed to distract me on this drive and also make me feel better.
“I’m happy to meet you too. But don’t go around and tell everyone else my real name. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
