Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“What was it?” Grady asked, fighting to hold back his own tears. It was easier to focus on that rather than what his father had told him.
His dad reached beside him under the blanket and pulled out an envelope. It was old, worn and folded up. Part of it had clearly gotten wet at some point, but the second his dad unfolded and turned it over, Grady’s heart nearly stopped. He would recognize that writing anywhere.
“How…?”
“The address got smeared, and it was lost in the mail for over seven years, if the date on it is right. At first I thought someone was playing some kind of joke on me, but…I knew that wasn’t the case. It’s real, and it got lost, and after I found out about my diagnosis, it found its way to me.”
Grady reached for the envelope, and his hands were shaking so bad, he could hardly hold on to it.
“I kept it in my wallet with me,” his dad added.
“Nathan?” Deke’s voice was soft, full of the same disbelief Grady felt.
“Yeah.”
Nathan had written to his father. Nathan, who’d been dead for seven years.
He could hardly breathe, his chest aching with each inhalation. His vision blurred, his mind spinning. He didn’t recall pulling the paper from the envelope and opening it until it was there, unfolded, Nathan’s handwriting swimming in front of him.
Mr. Dalton,
You don’t know me, have probably never heard my name, but I know you. I know you used to take Grady fishing when he was a kid and that those were some of his favorite times. That the two of you would sit by the water for hours, talking about everything and nothing at all.
I know you covered for him with his mama when he broke the kitchen window with a baseball, and I know you taught him how to drive a tractor and then a manual car when he was nine years old.
I know you taught him right from wrong in so many ways. Told him to take care of his family. I know you told him that one of the most important things in life was to be a good husband one day, a good father, and that you wanted him to grow up and be just like you.
Grady wanted to be that too. In some ways, I think he still does. He loves you so much, loves his whole family with his whole heart. I can’t say I’d be alive if it wasn’t for him, but I know I wouldn’t be the man I am. I wouldn’t be happy and proud of who I am. Grady and I met when I was at my lowest. He saved my life, and he is the best friend, the best brother, a man can ask for.
I’m on my way now to do what Grady did with you not long ago—come out to my family. I don’t know how it’s going to go. My sister and my brother-in-law, in my heart I know they’ll accept me, but my parents, I’m not so sure about. But I’m tired, so damn tired of living a lie. You taught Grady that—not to lie and that a man was only as strong as his word. But when he gave you his truth, you turned your back on him.
I’m scared about writing this since Grady doesn’t know. I’m scared to go home and tell my folks who I love, yet why should anyone be afraid to admit who they love? But before I do, I wanted to tell you how incredible your son is. How loving and compassionate he is, and that he turned out even better than you could have imagined. There’s nothing in the world more important to me than his happiness.
If my family accepts me, they’ll be Grady’s family too. If they don’t, then we’ll always have each other. I just wanted to let you know he’s not alone and he never will be.
Sincerely,
Nathan Liles
The letter ended with Grady’s phone number.
Grady’s legs went out beneath him then, but Deacon was there, holding him, catching him, giving him what Nathan had always wanted for Grady—someone to love and who loved him back. And he knew Deacon had gotten something out of that too, that Nathan had known he and Patricia would accept him.
He cried then—at the loss of Patricia, Nathan, his family for so many years, and for Eugene and Frances. For his dad’s diagnosis, and for Scout having felt so alone, and for all the lost time and broken families.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, but neither his dad nor Deacon rushed him. At some point, Deacon had led him to the couch in the room, but he couldn’t even say when.
Finally, he dried his eyes, met his dad’s gaze, and saw he’d been openly crying too.