Sundae's Best (Briar County 2)

“We good?” Grady asked when he reached Deacon.

“Yep.” He nodded and pulled open the café door. The place was about half-full, and decorated in all sorts of North Carolina and Briar County memorabilia—old newspaper articles and photos of landmarks and people.

The host was a kid about twenty, who asked, “Two?”

“Yep. Somewhere in the back if you have it,” Deacon told him. Grady just stood back and let him lead the show.

The kid nodded and took them to a booth in the back corner that was pretty private. He handed over the small menus—one laminated page—and slipped away.

“They don’t have a lot of options,” Deacon said, “but the food’s good.”

“I’m pretty easy,” Grady replied.

“Yeah, me too.”

The waitress approached, they both asked for coffee and water, and then she left them alone. They made small talk about the food choices until she returned with their drinks, each of them ordering a breakfast bowl scramble.

Grady wasn’t sure what to say, if Deacon had a specific reason for asking him there or not, so he was quiet as he doctored his coffee. When he’d thought about meeting Deacon and Patricia, he’d imagined that the three of them would click right off the bat. That they’d sit around laughing and telling stories about how incredible Nathan was. That they’d accept him and consider him family the way Nathan had, and that it would all be perfect, like an idealized version of what real life actually was.

“So you met in the service?” Deacon finally asked, without looking at him.

“Yep. First day of basic training. It was crazy. Don’t usually believe in that kinda thing, but it felt…inevitable. Not sure if that’s the right word, but it was like I always knew him, and there was no doubt in my mind he would be important in my life. We were competitive as shit at first.”

Deacon barked out a laugh, the first real one Grady had heard. “That’s definitely Nathan. Patricia was similar. The two of them were somethin’ else together.”

Grady smiled at the nostalgia in Deacon’s voice. “Yeah, I bet they were. I wish I could have seen them together. He told me so many stories. How they used to make bets for each other’s chores, but when Patricia won, she never made Nathan do hers. Or how they’d race home after school, and how she helped him with his math homework.”

The smile on Deacon’s face reached his eyes, and Grady could see the happy memories there—that maybe he remembered specific instances that were exactly what Grady was talking about.

“Yeah, when they were little, she’d let him win. As he got older, she didn’t, though. He beat her a lot, but she sure as shit gave him a run for his money. And when she won? She never let him hear the end of it.”

It was Grady’s turn to laugh. He had a feeling Nathan never let her hear the end of it when he’d won either. “He used to, um…put wind chimes up wherever we lived. He said they reminded him of Bir—of Patricia. Sorry. He never used her real name.”

Deacon nodded, looked down at his coffee, picked it up, and took a drink. “He always did when he spoke to her too. She was Birdie to him, and that was that. She loved chimes. We always had ’em up all over the porch. She could sit out there and just listen to them, along with the birds, for hours.” His brown eyes darted away, and he cleared the emotion from his throat. “So the two of you were never…”

“Never,” Grady answered. “I’m not gonna say that in the beginning I didn’t wonder if there could be something there, but we really were like brothers. Neither of us had told our families about ourselves. We were young and figuring out who we were, together—in hiding while we were enlisted. I think I felt alone my whole damn life until I met Nathan.”

“I’m sorry. Neither of you should have had to—”

“Here we go.” The waitress set their bowls in front of them. “Can I help you all with anything else?”

“No, ma’am,” Grady said, pretty sure Deacon was feeling too many things to speak.

When she walked away, Deacon sighed. “I hate that he felt like he couldn’t come to us…that he couldn’t go to Patricia. She loved him more than anything in this world. Eugene and Frances…I can see why it would have been harder with them, but not with Patty. He shouldn’t have been alone. You neither. I’m…I’m glad you had each other.”

Grady was glad for it too. “There were times when I don’t know if I would have made it without him. But I did, and I’m stronger for it. If people don’t accept me now, I know they aren’t worthy of my time and consideration.”

“Good for you. There’s a lot of hate and bigotry out there. I’ve experienced it in my own way.” Grady assumed he meant because he was Black. “Can’t let it take your pride in who you are.” Deacon pushed his fork into his food and took a bite. Grady did the same, figuring the man needed a minute. He was likely thinking of his wife; hell, maybe of Nathan too. They’d both been too damn young to die. “So did the two of you always live together? When we went to empty his place…”