Need You Now

Chapter Thirteen




Grace held the nails in a small pouch, handing one to her father each time he asked for one. Normally she wouldn’t have offered to help her father repair the fence, but she was desperate to talk to him without anyone around. It had been two weeks since she’d been caught cutting herself, and she hadn’t done it since then. But her mother was on a mission to get her to see a shrink, like she was a crazy person. Mom had made her an appointment for next Tuesday.

Her father had worked late every night that week, so she hadn’t had a chance to talk to him privately. Today, though, he was working on repairs around the farm, starting with the fence.

“Dad?”

“Huh?” He wiped sweat from his brow, then adjusted a fallen board back into place. “Another nail, please.” He held out his hand without looking at her. She pulled a nail from the pouch and handed it to him. Across the pasture, Layla was riding one of her horses. Grace waved, and Layla waved back. She hadn’t seen Layla in weeks, but she knew her mother had visited her. Mostly her mother was hovering over Grace, making Grace feel like she was suffocating. She wished Mom had never quit her job. Grace had cured herself of the cutting. Now she just had to convince her father.

“Daddy, please don’t let Mom take me to a shrink.”

Her father finished hammering the nail into place before he looked up at her. “Grace, maybe it’s the best thing for you to talk to someone.”

“No, Dad. I stopped. It was a stupid, dumb thing to do, and I haven’t done it since. Please don’t let Mom take me on Tuesday. Please.”

He locked eyes with her for a moment as sweat dripped from his forehead. It was already a hundred degrees, and it wasn’t quite July yet. They were all going to melt come August.

“Grace, I don’t know . . .” He shook his head. “Your mother really thinks that it would help you to talk to someone. Don’t you think it might feel good to talk about your feelings, to maybe understand what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He playfully tapped her on the forehead. She smiled, but was no less committed to getting him on her side.

“Dad, I feel great. Better than I have in a long time. I was so sad when I found out about Tristan. I’d heard other girls talking about cutting themselves to make themselves feel better, and I thought maybe it would work for me. But it didn’t.” God, forgive me.

Her father put a hand up to block the early-morning sun rising above the colorful pasture filled with wildflowers. “Are you sure, Grace?”

She touched his arm. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sure. Please talk Mom out of taking me.” Grace had heard them arguing about this several times, and she knew she needed to weigh in on her father’s side of the argument. “I’d just die if anyone around here found out that I went to a shrink. I couldn’t stand for everyone to think that I’m crazy. I might as well just die if that happened.”

“Grace, don’t say that.” Her father kicked a board into place, then reached his hand out to her for another nail. “Your mom said the counselor is in Eagle Lake. That should be far enough away to keep it private. I can understand how you don’t want this to get out, but having said that—it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Sometimes we all need someone to talk to.”

“I talk to God.” It was the truth. How could he argue with that?

“And that’s good. But I still think—”

“Dad, I can’t go! Please!” Her eyes started to water up, and even though she knew it would soften her father, the tears came without force. She really couldn’t stand the thought of trying to explain something that she didn’t totally understand herself. And she truly was scared to death that people would find out. She’d heard Glenda and the other girls bash people who had far less significant problems than Grace had. “Please just talk to Mom.”

Her father put his hands on his hips and faced her. “Grace, are you sure you feel okay now? And that you don’t have an urge to hurt yourself anymore?” He cupped her cheek. “We just want to do right by you, Grace, to take care of you.”

She put her hand on his. “I know, Dad. But if you want to help me, please get me out of this appointment. It is causing me so much stress, and I’d be way better if I didn’t have to worry about it.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, munchkin. I’ll talk to your mom.”

Over the years, Grace had told him that she was much too old for that endearment, but at the moment, it was music to her ears. She’d won him over. “Thank you, Dad.” She reached her arms around his waist. He kissed her on the top of the head.

“You’re welcome, baby.”



It was early evening when Brad cornered Darlene in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her waist while she was loading the dishwasher. Things had been strained between them since their argument about Grace. And instead of fewer hours at work, his new position was demanding more hours, so he really hadn’t had a chance to talk to her much. She was quiet, and he knew she missed her job. And she was worried about Grace.

“Let’s go to dinner tonight, just the two of us.” He twirled her around until she was facing him. “We haven’t had a date night in a long time.”

“That sounds good.”

It was nice to see her smile. She was the love of his life, and while they might not always agree on everything, he couldn’t stand it when they were distant. “Where do you want to go?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can make something for the kids ahead of time, or—”

“Or they can just make a sandwich. They’ll survive one night without a hot meal.”

“I guess so.”

Brad needed to talk to her about Grace, and maybe a relaxed atmosphere and a nice restaurant would make it easier for them to communicate.

“Why don’t we just go to Joe’s Place in Fayetteville?” she asked as she eased away from him and started the dishwasher. “We won’t have to get dressed up, and a steak sounds good.”

“Wherever you want to go is fine with me. I’m going to jump in the shower.” He leaned around her, kissed her on the cheek.

Thirty minutes later, he started down the stairs in a pair of blue jean shorts and a white T-shirt. He’d heard the doorbell, and Darlene was opening the front door as he stepped onto the landing. Brad was surprised to see Skylar. Grace’s friend hadn’t been to the house in a long time. He waved to her as she walked past him and toward the stairs, then he glanced at Darlene, whose brittle smile didn’t fool Brad. They both waited until Skylar was upstairs before they said anything.

“Do you think everyone will be okay for an hour or two?” Darlene’s eyes searched his.

“Yes.” Brad knew that Darlene’s worries about Skylar mirrored his own. It was wrong to judge the girl by the way she dressed, but they were both so worried about Grace, everyone was a target for blame.



Grace heard a knock on her door and put down the book she was reading. When she opened her bedroom door, she was surprised to see Skylar, especially after the way Grace had treated her at school. Skylar had called a few times, but Grace hadn’t called her back. “Hey.”

“Hey. Just wondering if you were okay.”

She didn’t deserve a friend like Skylar. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She stepped aside so Skylar could come in.

“Whatcha reading?” Skylar nodded to the book on Grace’s bed.

“It’s a novel. A story about the Amish.”

Skylar grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Grace liked reading about the Amish because of the peaceful lives they led. It was an escape from her problems, but she didn’t feel like explaining. She felt like crying. She’d been horrible to Skylar, and yet here she was, acting like nothing was wrong.

Grace sat down on her bed, and Skylar sat down beside her. Grace noticed light roots in Skylar’s jet-black hair. She wondered what Skylar would look like with her natural hair color and without the dark makeup and black clothes.

“So I just wanted to see what’s up.” Skylar shrugged, and Grace fought the tears threatening to spill.

“I—I . . .” Grace blinked a few times. “Why are you here, Skylar? I mean, I wasn’t exactly nice to you before school let out.”

Skylar grinned. “I didn’t notice.”

They were quiet for a few moments, then Skylar spoke up again. “I was just kinda worried about you.”

All of Grace’s defenses kicked in. “Why? I’m fine.” She got up from the bed, walked over to her dresser, and stacked some books in a pile. “I’ve been reading a lot.” She shrugged, straightening the books. “It’s not like you can find a job around here.”

“Tell me about it. I applied everywhere I could think of, but in these small towns, there isn’t much need for summer help. And it’s not like my truck could take a lot of extra driving to another town.”

“I’ve only been able to get some babysitting jobs, but at least it’s something.”

“So . . . how long have you been cutting again?”

Grace spun around. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“How long?”

“So you just came over here to grill me about it? I should have never told you in the first place.”

“Then why did you?”

Grace grunted. “Because you figured it out.”

Skylar lowered her head, frowning.

“Don’t look so bummed. After my parents found out, I swore it off for good. So if you came over here just to talk about that, then—”

“Your parents found out?” Skylar lifted her head and locked eyes with Grace. “What happened?”

This was the last thing Grace wanted to talk about, but maybe she could have some closure with Skylar on the subject if she just spilled everything. She told her the entire story, and Skylar listened without saying anything.

“So anyway, my dad is taking my mom to dinner tonight, and he said he would try to talk her out of taking me to a shrink.”

“Maybe a shrink wouldn’t be so bad.”

Grace slapped her hands to her hips. “You quit on your own. So can I.”

Skylar shrugged. “Okay. But not everyone can.”

Grace walked back over to her pile of books, straightened them again. How presumptuous of Skylar to think she was better than Grace. “I can do it on my own too, and I don’t need to tell my feelings to some doctor while lying on a couch.”

“Well, I had a reason to stop.”

Grace folded her arms across her chest. “Oh really? So what was the reason?”

Skylar took a deep breath and avoided Grace’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” Grace’s words were choppy and unsympathetic as she sat down on the bed.

Skylar slapped her hands to her knees, then stood up. “You know what? I have to go pick up some medicine for my dad. Wanna ride along?”

Clearly Skylar wasn’t going to share any details at the moment, and Grace realized that she didn’t know much about Skylar’s life, except that she lived alone with her father. “Is he sick?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Skylar walked toward the door. “It sure is hot to drive to La Grange to pick up his medicine.” She turned around and faced Grace, an exaggerated pout on her face.

Grace knew Skylar didn’t have any air-conditioning in that beat-up truck she drove.

“I’ll take you.” Grace found her purse, dug for her keys. “But can we just talk about something else?”

“Sure.”

Skylar followed Grace down the stairs.



Darlene ordered the small T-bone steak, a baked potato, and a salad. Brad ordered the same, but got the larger version. It was a much-needed, relaxing break. Until Brad got around to a conversation he’d evidently wanted to have the entire time.

“Grace really doesn’t want to go see the counselor. She wanted me to talk to you.” Brad sipped on a cup of coffee, keeping his eyes on her above the rim.

“Well, she’s going.”

He put his cup down, shook his head. “So she’s going, and that’s it? I don’t have a say and neither does Grace?”

“Why are you ruining this night?”

“I’m not. I’m trying to talk to you, Dar, but when it comes to Grace, it’s your way or no one’s. I’m not sure she needs counseling.”

Darlene stared at him for a few moments. “My way or no one’s? Really, Brad? Because I don’t see it that way at all.” She and Brad never used to talk to each other with such sarcasm and flat-out ugliness. She tried to keep things in perspective, knowing they were both worried about Grace. “Something caused Grace to cut herself like that. More than once.” She glanced around, lowered her voice to a whisper. “Our beautiful daughter has cuts on her arms and legs that might leave scars for the rest of her life. Do you want her to keep doing that?”

“Of course not. But I don’t want to push her over the edge either. She is terrified and stressed about that appointment on Tuesday. I’m just saying maybe give her some time. And she doesn’t want people to find out.”

“She doesn’t or you don’t?” It just came out, and even though it was what she was thinking, Darlene wished she hadn’t said it.

Brad stiffened as the lines across his forehead deepened. “Okay, Darlene. I can see that this isn’t even open to discussion. You’ve made up your mind.” Brad pointed a finger at her, and she was tempted to slap it away, but she folded her hands in her lap, not wanting to draw attention to their table. “But if you push Grace over the edge with this appointment, it’s on your conscience. Counseling isn’t for everyone.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You ready to go?”

Without waiting for her to answer, he scooted his chair back and stood up. How dare you. “You know I only want what’s best for Grace,” she whispered from behind him as they walked to the counter to pay. “And I can’t believe you don’t see that she needs some help. Did you see her legs?”

Brad didn’t answer, just paid the bill. Darlene waited until they got to the parking lot before she said anything. “So if Grace goes to the counselor and it doesn’t work, it’s my fault. If she doesn’t go and she hurts herself again, then it’s your fault. Can you live with that?”

He pushed the key remote, pulled open his door, then glared over the roof at her. “Why does it have to be someone’s fault? Why can’t we just work together on this?”

“You already said it’s on my conscience if this pushes her over the edge!” Darlene slapped her hand against the hood. “Ultimately, you want me to make the decisions so it’s not on your conscience. And I know you don’t want anyone around here to find out because you don’t want to be embarrassed.”

“I’m through talking to you about this tonight.” He slammed the door when he got in.

Darlene didn’t want to get in the car, but it was a long walk to the house.

And it turned out to be a silent drive home.

Ten long minutes later, Brad pulled into their driveway. “Where’s Grace?” Darlene jumped out of the car before it even stopped completely and hurried toward the house. After she checked Grace’s room, she opened Chad’s door without knocking.

“Mom! Can’t you knock?” Chad was sitting on his bed, legs crossed beneath him, watching television.

“Where’s Grace?”

“She went somewhere with Skylar.”

“Where?”

Chad hit a button on the remote, pausing whatever he was watching. “Something about getting some medicine for Skylar’s dad in La Grange. She said she’d be back by ten.”

Darlene glanced out the window at the orange hue in the sky, then looked at her watch. It was only seven forty-five. A short dinner with her husband.

“She’s fine, Mom.”

Darlene glanced around Chad’s room, trying to distract herself from worry about Grace. “This room is a mess.”

“Don’tcha love it?” He snickered.

“No, I don’t,” she said as she backed out. “I’d be scared to sleep in here.”

Darlene went downstairs, heavy steps to match her heart. When did she and Brad start talking to each other like this? When did they start to play on opposite teams? They’d had plenty of fights over the years, but something was different about this one. Possibly fueled by their fears about Grace. Why was there a need to blame someone? They hadn’t treated each other this way when Chad got into trouble in Houston, so why now?

She sat down on the couch. Ansley was out back, probably with her chickens again. No sign of Brad, so she assumed he’d gone upstairs to get ready for bed. She leaned her head back on the couch, fighting tears.

Darlene knew exactly why she was lashing out at Brad. She was angry at herself for not being there for Grace. This was her fault.



Skylar kept her promise during their ride to La Grange and back—no heavy conversation. Instead, they’d talked about places around town to eat, things to do, and then they landed on Skylar’s college plans. Grace felt bad that she hadn’t asked Skylar more about her life, especially since Skylar was always interested in Grace’s life. Grace spun the angel ring on her finger as Skylar talked.

“I had to go to school all last summer and the first part of this summer to be able to graduate after this next year.”

Grace and Skylar were both going to be juniors when school started—or so Grace had thought. “So you’ll really be a senior this year?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you do that? Do you hate school that much?”

Skylar turned to her right and stared out the window of the car. “The sooner I get a degree and a good job, the sooner I can make things better for my dad.”

Grace had assumed Skylar hadn’t been around because Grace had been ugly to her before school was out. Instead, she’d been working hard so she could graduate early. Grace wanted to ask her what the hurry was, but then she thought about the medicine they’d just picked up for her father. She swallowed hard.

“So what college are you going to?” Grace turned when Skylar told her to, the road leading up to a shack far off in the distance. Surely Skylar doesn’t live there.

“I want to go to UT, A&M, or Texas Tech. Ms. Long at school has been helping me apply for scholarships and awards, and I’ve won a few for essays and stuff.” She shrugged. “Ms. Long says my grades are good enough that I should be able to come up with most of the tuition.”

Grace slowed down when her tires hit huge ruts in the dirt road. There was nothing but a forest of trees on either side of them and a dilapidated house in the distance. “Chad will be a senior this year, but then he’s planning to go to UT.” She twisted to face Skylar. “Wow. My grades are pretty good, but I doubt they’re good enough to get awards or scholarships.”

“Your parents can probably pay for you to go wherever you want,” Skylar said matter-of-factly as she stared forward at the house coming into view.

Grace was speechless, and she was struggling not to quiz Skylar about her living arrangements. How could anyone live here? The yard on either side of the grayish-white house looked more like a forest than a yard, with weeds as high as the porch and a worn path leading up to the front door. Paint was chipping, and part of the porch on the left side had fallen in completely. Grace’s house was a mansion compared to this.

“So what’s wrong with your dad?” Grace asked as she put the car in park, hoping she wouldn’t have to get out. Skylar’s house was on the way back from the pharmacy in La Grange, so Skylar asked if they could drop the medicine off before they picked up her truck.

“He’s got bad arthritis. It’s been so bad lately that he hasn’t been able to work much.” Skylar opened the car door but didn’t turn to face Grace. She hung her head for a moment. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

Grace felt a hollow ache in her stomach, but despite her own reservations, she didn’t want to hurt Skylar’s feelings. She pushed open the car door. “I’d like to meet your dad.”

Skylar’s eyes widened as she smiled. “He loves visitors. It’s hard for him to get out much. Hopefully he won’t talk your ear off.” There was a bounce in her step as they moved toward the rickety porch steps. “I’ll tell him we can’t stay long.” She pointed to their left. “Watch your step.”

It was almost completely dark now, and there was nothing but woods surrounding them. Grace felt like she was in a scary movie. But that all changed the moment she stepped into the small den. A bear of a dog met her in the entryway, wagging his tail, and the air smelled like liver and onions cooking. Grace was the only one in her family who ate liver and onions, so her mother never made them. She’d only had the dish a few times: at a friend’s house, at her grandparents’ house years ago, and at Luby’s restaurant in Houston. There was no mistaking the distinct smell of really strong beef—and sautéed sweet onions.

“Hello, there.” A tall, thin man with hardly any hair grimaced as he stood up from a worn recliner to greet her. He looked much older than Grace’s father. “You must be Grace.” His hand shook as he extended it to her. When Grace gently latched on, he put his other hand on top of hers. “I’m Jack. Welcome to our home. Are you hungry?”

She thought about the casserole her mother had left on the oven. Her parents probably weren’t even home yet, and she’d told Chad she would be home by ten. Plenty of time, and just the thought of liver and onions made her mouth water. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s liver and onions,” Skylar said as she pet the large, shaggy dog. “Most people don’t like it.”

“Oh . . .” Grace ran her tongue along her upper lip. “I love liver and onions.”

“Then you just sit yourself down and I’ll bring you a plate.” On shaky legs, Skylar’s father moved out of the room.

“Daddy, I’ll get it. Sit down.” Skylar turned to the dog. “Enough, Bear. Go lay down.”

Skylar’s father waved her off. “Nah, I’ll get it. Be right back.”

Grace looked around the house as sweat dripped from her forehead. A window air-conditioning unit struggled to cool the small room, and the wooden floors were covered with worn throw rugs. She glanced at the two recliners and the small television with a long antenna, then spied a bookcase on the opposite wall. It was filled with odds and ends, only a few books, and lots of pictures of Skylar. Grace wandered that way.

“Is this your mom?” Grace picked up a picture of a woman holding a baby. She had wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes, and she was wearing a peach-colored dress and white shoes.

Skylar was still trying to get Bear to settle down, but she finally sidled up to Grace. “Yeah. That’s my mom.”

“She’s pretty.” Grace put the picture back, then turned around when Jack walked back into the room. He handed Grace a big plate of liver and onions.

“Thank you.” Her mouth watered as she accepted it, breathing in the wonderful aroma.

“Sit down here and talk to me a spell.” Skylar’s father motioned for Grace to sit in one recliner while he sat in the other. As Skylar left the room, Grace lowered herself into the chair and put her plate on her lap. In between the two recliners was a TV tray covered with a small lamp, lots of pill bottles, a glass of water, and a box of tissues.

Skylar returned with two more plates of food and gave one to her father before sitting on a small couch. Now that everyone had their food, Grace took a bite of the liver and onions, and it was possibly the best she’d ever had. Despite how small their house was, something about it was warm and inviting—even with the loud window unit, the television blaring, and Bear jumping on and off the couch. Skylar gently pulled Bear by his collar until he was lying at her feet on the floor. She rewarded him with a piece of liver.

“Bear thinks he’s one of us.” Skylar smiled, and Grace nodded, her mouth full of food. She swallowed and took another big bite.

“Jack . . .” She felt funny calling Skylar’s father by his first name. “This is the best liver and onions I’ve ever had.”

“Well, Grace, we’re mighty glad to have you for supper. We don’t get lots of company out here.” Jack shifted his weight, reached for a Kleenex, and blew his nose. “And Skylar has said such nice things about you.”

Grace avoided his eyes, undeserving of the comment. She glanced at Skylar but quickly looked away.

“So how are you likin’ small-town living after living in Houston?” Jack scooped up a piece of liver with his fork.

“I like it.” She pushed her food around on her plate for a few moments. “I mean, it’s different. I guess it’s taken some time to get used to.”

“The country is a good place to grow up. Things are too fast in the city. Everyone’s in a hurry.” Jack shook his head, and Grace thought about the Amish book she’d been reading. Grace was away from city life, kind of like the Amish. Why couldn’t she feel the kind of peace that they had?

Grace polished off the rest of her food.

“Gracious. You do like liver and onions, don’t you?” Jack laughed, then pointed to Skylar. “Go get your friend some more, honey. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t had liver and onions in years.”

“I haven’t.” Grace smiled as she put her plate in Skylar’s outstretched hand. “No one in my family likes it, so my mom doesn’t make it.” She shook her head. “And that’s a shame. Because I love it.”

“Well, I’m going to make sure Skylar lets you know the next time we have it. You’re welcome anytime.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

As they ate, she and Skylar talked with Jack for a while. He enjoyed watching sports, and even though Grace didn’t understand most of what he was talking about, she liked listening to him. He seemed happy to have company, and Grace couldn’t help but like him.

“Where’s your room?” Grace asked as she helped Skylar take their dishes to the kitchen.

“Just down the hall.”

Grace followed her around a corner, down a small hallway. They turned into a room on the left, and Grace swallowed hard. It was almost like a giant closet with a small twin bed, a nightstand, and clothes hanging on a rack by the door. All dark-colored clothes. It should have been the most depressing room on the planet, but like the rest of the house, there was something welcoming about it. Maybe it’s the smell of that amazing liver and onions.

Bear strolled in, jumped on the bed, and rested his head between his front paws.

“Bear . . .” Skylar pointed her finger at him and shook her head. “Not your bed.”

The dog didn’t move, but Grace could tell that Skylar hadn’t expected him to. They sat down on each side of him, and Grace glanced around at the framed pictures on the walls, mostly of Skylar and her father. A couple of them were taken long ago and had a little girl in them—probably Skylar—with her mother. Skylar looked completely different in all the shots, wearing bright colors, her hair a dark blond. She was much younger in most of the photos, except for one of her and her father that was taken recently, and Skylar looked to be holding an award of some sort.

“So what kind of work does your dad do?” Grace turned to face Skylar as she petted Bear.

“He’s an electrician. When he’s able to work, he subcontracts for Tony Belton’s company.” Skylar leaned down and tied the laces on one of her army boots. “I’m going to get out of this town, get a degree, and then get a good job. First thing I’ll do is get Dad a better house and make sure he has enough money for his medications. Sometimes I know he’s gone without . . .” Skylar sat up again. “For me.”

Grace thought for a moment. “Doesn’t he have insurance?”

Skylar shook her head as she tucked one leg beneath her on the bed. “He gets some assistance . . . you know . . . from the government.”

Grace didn’t know, so she asked the one burning question in her mind. “Did you start cutting because of your dad’s problems?”

Grace hated to bring up the subject, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Skylar had felt some of the same things Grace did.

“No, I stopped cutting because of his problems.” Skylar tucked her hair behind her ears. “He never knew anything about it. It started a couple of years ago. I didn’t really have any friends, didn’t fit in, and . . . I just tried it one day.” She paused, then rolled up her black, long-sleeved shirt, and Grace gasped as she eyed the deep scars, much worse than Grace’s. “But as good as it felt at the time, I knew it was out of control. It was getting harder and harder for Dad to get around, and if anything had happened to me . . .” She rolled her sleeve back down. “I just stopped one day.”

Skylar ran her hand down Bear’s back, and they were quiet for a few moments.

Grace wondered when she’d started to feel like her life was out of control. “I hope my dad can talk my mom out of making me go to that appointment with the shrink on Tuesday.” She reached over and rubbed Bear’s head.

Skylar leaned back against the pillow on her bed. “If I could have, I think I would have talked to someone. Maybe I would have been able to quit sooner. But . . .” Skylar sighed. “We didn’t have the money for something like that and—” She frowned, locking eyes with Grace. “I’m not saying that to make you feel sorry for me or anything. I’m just saying . . .” She shrugged. “I think you should talk to the shrink.”

Grace cringed. “I just can’t. I don’t understand it, so how can I explain it to someone else? And it would be weird to have someone all in my head. Not to mention embarrassing.”

“That’s why you should go, since you don’t understand it. I never really understood it either.”

“But you stopped on your own.”

Skylar shrugged again. “Yeah. But I would have talked to someone if I could have. Instead, I read everything I could about it.” She was quiet for a few moments. “You know, I think it’s probably how an alcoholic feels, or a drug addict needing a fix. The cutting was a release. I think it gave me some sort of control over my own body when I couldn’t control anything else in my life. It was like a high, but with highs . . . you always come down.”

“See? I don’t need a shrink. I have you.” Grace smiled and silently said a prayer that she wouldn’t have to go to the psychiatrist or psychologist—or whoever it was—on Tuesday.

When Skylar didn’t say anything, Grace stood up and walked the few steps across the room to look closely at all the pictures on the wall. She’d realized what it was about Skylar, her father, and this place that she liked. The pictures, the smells, the kindness in her father’s voice. Even Skylar seemed warmer in this space. It was a home, filled with love, just like what Grace had. Just goes to show that it’s not the size of the house. Just what’s in it.

“You’ll figure it out,” Skylar said. “But I don’t have the answers.”

Grace wasn’t sure anything would work for her, although she was proud she hadn’t cut in a long time. “I think I’ve stopped anyway.” She lifted one shoulder, dropped it slowly. “I haven’t done it in weeks.”

Skylar didn’t say anything.

“I guess I should take you to get your truck at my house.” Grace stood up and Skylar did too. But instead of moving toward the door, Skylar unzipped her black pants and slowly pulled them down to her knees. Standing in her underwear, she looked at Grace as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

Grace gazed upon the deep scars that ran down Skylar’s legs, and Grace was sure she would never cut herself as badly as Skylar had. She’d never do that. Never. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She looked up at Skylar as a tear rolled down Skylar’s cheek.

“Go see the counselor, Grace. Don’t wait as long as I did.” She started to cry. “What guy is ever going to want to be with me like this?” She pulled her pants back up as the tears fell.

Grace wrapped her arms around Skylar and held her tight. “Someone will love you for the person you are, Skylar, and you’re a beautiful person.”

Skylar eased away, dabbing at the black makeup smearing under her eyes. “Promise me you’ll go to that appointment.”

Grace looked at her pink tennis shoes and shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t talk about it.”

Skylar reached for Grace’s hand, then squeezed as she closed her eyes and lowered her head.

“Dear Lord, please give Grace the strength and courage to face her fears, knowing that You are by her side all the time. She needs You, Lord.”

Grace started to cry so hard, she couldn’t stop. She’d been praying, but hearing Skylar doing it on her behalf touched her beyond words.

Maybe there was hope for her after all.