P.S. You’ll find a letter for Gracie in my jewelry case. Give it to her. And if you’ve fallen just as hard as I suspect you have, you may want to consider giving her something else in the box, too.
When I finish reading, I let the letter drop onto the couch beside me, only to immediately pick it up again. It wasn’t enough toread it once. Having my grandmother’s words and wisdom fill my mind when I never thought I’d hear them again leaves me feeling glutted and hungry at the same time. I scan greedily back over the section where she explains the most elaborate, Machiavellian match-making scheme there ever was, and shake my head as a hoarse laugh escapes me.
Wiping my eyes, the unexpected joy of finding this message mingles with grief and, more than anything, the crushing urge to share these words with Gracie, along with her letter.
My eyes drop to words that got stuck in my chest as I read them.It’s a beautiful thing to protect the ones you love. But when protecting them means sacrificing your own well-being, it’s time to stop.Resistance automatically swells in me, ready to shoot down any attempt to prioritize myself over the secrets I’ve guarded for so long. I swallow down another choking lump in my throat. But it’s not just my heart at stake this time—it’s Gracie’s, too.
Exhaling with difficulty, I stand, pulling my phone from my pocket. A plan crystallizes in my mind like it’s been there all along, waiting for permission to be put into action. But if I want any chance of pulling it off and repairing the damage I’ve done, I’m going to need help.
Staring at Henry’s name for just a moment, I tap on it to call.
“Jude, hey.”
He sounds nervous, but my stomach relaxes at his willingness to pick up my call at all.
“Hey,” I respond, hoping he can’t tell I’ve barely stopped crying.
“You sound sick,” he says.
I take a shaking breath.Honesty. “Nah. Just having a good old-fashioned emotional breakdown.”
“Shit. Jude, listen,” he says, in a miserable rush. “I know I fucked up. I don’t have an excuse—I just saw Gracie in your shirt and that lipstick and—God. I was so jealous and pissed, but as soon as I cooled off, I couldn’t believe what I said to her about you. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “I’m not mad,” Ianswer truthfully. “I appreciate the apology, but she was always going to find out that I’m not keeping Larkwood. I should have told her first.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t need to plant any evil fucking seeds in her mind, did I? I told her you were seducing her for the cottage!” He lets out an exhale like he’s been dying to get this off his chest. “That wasn’t just low, it was subterranean.”
“I won’t argue with that,” I mutter.
“Exactly. So why the hell are you giving me the time of day?”
I look up at the luminous clouds painted on the ceiling, promising brighter days to come. “Because I need to tell you some things I should have shared years ago, and if you’re willing, I need your help.”
“Of course,” he says, and then goes quiet, like he knows I need the space to open this door between us.
“You’ve never made me feel like I had to share the parts of my life I’d rather keep hidden,” I begin. “You’ve always just accepted my boundaries without question, but I’m starting to understand how one-sided that must feel. Like I simply didn’t trust you enough.” I close my eyes. “But I do trust you, Hen. The only reason I’ve never shared those pieces of myself with you is that they weren’t just mine to share.
“In my family, I’ve been given the kind of trust that has always outweighed my own wish to confide in you. I’ve even rationalized that I was doing you a favor by not burdening you with all my issues.” I take a breath. “But I know it’s not fair to shut you out either, which is why today, I’m going to get permission to share those things with you and Gracie.”
I impatiently rub my blurring eyes. “You’re two of the most important people in my life, and you deserve to be trusted. I’m starting to see that I deserve to tell you, too. But before I can, I need you to help me get Gracie back,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “I love her, Hen. I can’t lose her when I’m finally ready to tell her everything.”
“Jesus, Judy,” Henry says, his voice as choked as mine. “Just tell me what to do, and we’ll ride at fucking dawn.”
I close my stinging eyes as relief and gratitude radiate throughme. “Can you rent a moving van and be here as early as you can tomorrow?”
“I’m on it. Are we talking a U-Haul or like a Mack Truck?”
A smile that’s nearly painful breaks across my face. “A U-Haul’s great. Thank you, Hen. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me till you’ve got your girl back.”
I press my lips together, praying to Nana that it’s not too late. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and without giving myself time for doubt or fear to sink in, I move on to phase two of my plan.
Swiping to my contacts, I call my mom.
41GRACIE
