Free Grace by Richard Paul Evans Page A

then he stuck around to make sure we were earning our wages. Just before I left I folded my check into the front pocket of my trousers. When I got home I went straight out back. Grace was reading Black Like Me.
    â€œSo about tomorrow,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s tomorrow?”
    I figured she just liked to hear me say it. “Your birthday…”
    She smiled. “Can we play hooky again?”
    â€œI better not. But we’re going to have a party. What’s your favorite kind of cake?”
    â€œChocolate.”
    â€œChocolate it is. Anything else you want?”
    She shook her head. “Just cake.”
    â€œIt will be fun. I’m going to invite Joel. Is that okay?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI mean, if you don’t…”
    â€œNo, he’s cute.”
    I felt a pang of jealousy. “Okay. I’ll ask if he wants to come.”
    â€œI can’t wait.
    After a moment I said, “Well, I better get inside before my parents wonder where I am.”
    â€œGood night, Eric.”
    â€œGood night.”
    As I crawled out, I was thinking how much I liked the way she spoke my name. I walked along the driveway back to the front of the house and went in through the front door. My mother and father were in the living room, my mother reading Look magazine and my father in his La-Z-Boy watching The Beverly Hillbillies.
    â€œHi, honey,” my mom said.
    â€œHi.” I sat down on the floor next to her to watch the television. At the commercial break my mom said, “How was your day?”
    My father said, “Keep it down, the Buick commercial’s on.”
    â€œSorry,” my mom said.
    â€œIt was fine,” I said, sotto voce.
    â€œWhat did you learn at school?”
    â€œNothing.”
    This is the standard reply millions of schoolkids every day give to their parents and one that no parent has ever questioned, even though this was probably one of the few times it was technically true.
    â€œLook at that,” my father said. “Next year’s Buick Electra. That is the future of the automobile.” He spoke like he’d just had a religious experience, which might have been the case.
    â€œDo you think you could cash my check tonight?” I asked my mom.
    â€œIt’s too late. The bank’s closed. I’ll have to do it tomorrow on my lunch break. You don’t want me to just put it in your savings account?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s just good to have some cash around.”
    â€œYou’ve been such a good saver, don’t get out of the habit.”
    â€œYou should save for one of those babies,” my father said, still ogling the Buick. “What a head-turner.”
    My mother shook her head.
    I took the check out of my pocket and gave it to my mother. “I’m gonna go,” I said.
    â€œDo you have homework?”
    â€œUh, no. Not today.”
    I went into the kitchen and made myself a glass of Ovaltine, then headed to my bedroom. The lights were off. As I climbed under the covers, Joel, who was always asleep by eight, asked, “Where were you today?”
    â€œWork.”
    â€œBefore that.”
    I hesitated. “School.”
    â€œNo, you weren’t.”
    â€œYeah, I was.”
    â€œLiars go to the devil.”
    â€œI’m not lying.”
    There was silence, then Joel’s voice softened. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”
    I breathed out. “Okay, I played hooky. You satisfied?”
    He didn’t say anything.
    â€œHow’d you know, anyway?”
    â€œI waited for you at the bus stop. I wanted to get a malt or something.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œYou spend all your time with that girl.”
    â€œYou have a problem with that?”
    â€œNo,” he said.
    The sadness in his voice made me feel bad. “I’m having a birthday party for her tomorrow. She wants you to