“But there’s one person who isn’t here today,” Grayson went on. “And that’s Isaac Jones.”
The room went silent, and Evangeline sent all her strength to her husband. He knew it would be hard to talk about the young man whose memory haunted him, but it was important to Grayson that people knew who Isaac Jones was.
“He wasn’t with us for long,” Grayson went on. “But he put his whole heart into everything he did. Isaac could tell when we were down and he would recite one of those ridiculous limericks.”
A couple of the guys from the unit laughed lightly.
“And he always had a million questions,” Grayson said. “Right?”
“Oh yeah,” Calvin laughed.
“When I spoke with his mom, she agreed,” Grayson went on. “She always thought maybe he’d be a reporter or a talk show host.”
That earned more good-natured laughter.
“Isaac was curious about people because he cared about them,” Grayson continued, his tone more serious now. “And he always made everyone feel at home. That’s why our tribute to him will be a place where men and women can stay and talk and laugh and heal, and it’s going to be called Isaac’s House.”
There was a collectiveoh, and then nodding and murmuring.
Evangeline smiled, glad that the name for the place seemed to meet with everyone’s approval.
“Now if you want to help out,” Grayson said. “You can sign up on the sheet in the back. We’ll be looking for anyone who would like to come by to cook a meal, or help with day-to-day tasks, or just to provide some company. And we’re open to more specialized help too, Samantha from the center is going to coordinate with our volunteers.”
Evangeline searched the crowd for her friend and saw Sam give a little wave and a smile to the crowd.
“And if you think of something that isn’t on that sheet, feel free to jot it down in the log on the page with the big question mark,” Grayson said. “Isaac definitely would have been first in line to help, so we’re asking you to dothat now for him. Thank you all very much for being here tonight, and for remembering my friend.”
His voice broke on the last word and he pressed his lips together, but his posture was tall and proud, and the whole room was on their feet applauding a moment later.
Evangeline watched, pride blooming in her chest as her husband descended from the stage, waved to the crowd, and then took his seat by her side.
He looked so confident, but when he took her hand in his she could feel his emotion by the way he squeezed her so tight.
The dinner went beautifully.Student volunteers from the community college did the serving and the crew of volunteers in the kitchen came out to eat with everyone else.
Afterward, a group from the high school orchestra played while guests danced and socialized.
Evangeline and Grayson slipped to the back, just to watch over the happy crowd for a few minutes.
“Excuse me,” a lady said softly as she approached them, her arm linked in the arm of a man with a white mustache.
“Hi there,” Grayson said with an encouraging smile. “Thanks for being here. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“I’m Nancy Jones,” the lady said. “And this is my husband, Lou.”
“You came,” Grayson said, his voice dropping as he moved toward the couple.
It was only then that Evangeline realized that they must be Isaac’s parents.
The two of them embraced Grayson, and she watched as they wept together.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Jones said, pulling back.
“He would have loved this,” her husband said, clearing his throat.
“Thank you for allowing me to do it,” Grayson told them. “I’ll never forgive myself for?—”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Mr. Jones put in gruffly. “We know all about the bravery you showed that day. We know you did everything you could.”
