Page 99 of Really Truly Yours
“Keep your seat, Mrs. Walker. I’ll do it myself.”
At Tripp’s polite inquiry, I keep the details of my day generic. He lifts his eyebrows. “That all you did today?"
I shrug.
“Wasn’t Donny’s appointment with the new oncologist this morning?”
“Yes,” I answer with care.
“How did it go?”
I sit back, allowing the fact that Tripp is actually asking about our father to settle. Then I fill him in. He listens as he eats. When I’m done, he swallows a bite of casserole. “Is there hope for more time?”
“Some.”
When Tripp pushes his empty plate aside several minutes later, he and Avery share a look. She pats his hand, stands, and pushes in her chair. “I’ll let you boys talk.”
I watch her cross the living room and climb the staircase. Tripp was riding a stroke of luck when he found Avery. I hope I run into the same sort of good fortune someday.
Turning back, I fist my napkin. “What’s up?”
The dining chair across from Tripp screeches as he stretches out his leg. He spins his thumbs around one another on his stomach, watching the whirling motion. “I forgive Donny.”
Whoa. That’s going to have to sit a moment—or ten—while I gather my thoughts. “I don’t mean to sound skeptical, but what exactly does that look like?” Because the granite set of my brother’s jaw sends a wholly different message.
There’s a hint of cynicism in his snort. “Let me rephrase. I’ve decided I’m going to forgive Donny. I’m told it’s a process.”
I almost laugh. “You were told this?”
He nods, sober. “I met with our pastor yesterday.”
Pulling my legs in, I sit forward. This is news.
“I’ve been seeing a counselor for the last year. He’s a Christian, too, but I guess I needed a fresh voice.”
“Okay.” Makes sense.
My brother, one of the toughest guys on the planet, looks lost, only…maybe not quite as lost as a few days ago.
“May I ask a question?”
He shoots me a look out of the top of his head. “Give it a shot.”
Honestly, in this moment, forgiveness feels like it’s watching from the opposite sideline. “I know Donny abandoned us. That hurts. Even though we both landed in better places, it hurts.”
He nods once when I pause. “Go on.”
I look at the placemat beneath my empty dish and screw up my courage. “There’s more for you though. Isn’t there?”
His thumbs, in motion up until now, go still, pressing into each other. “There’s more.”
“Would you—”
“No.” His knuckles turn white. “Let’s leave it where it is.”
The casserole in my stomach threatens mutiny. I feel sick for my brother, but making matters worse is the way my mind is linking this feeling with the one I got Saturday night with Sydnee.
“I’m sorry, Gray. I’m not there yet. Maybe never will be.”