Page 66 of Halo

“Oh yeah. Been coming here since I was little.” He faces me. “Hey, you should come to a service some time. We'd love to have you.”

“Oof, wish I could. But it turns out that I'm really good at sinning.”

“Well, we all fall short of the glory of God, brother—”

“He's your brother?” Grady asks, curiously looking up at Declan.

“Um …” I nervously chuckle as I quickly squat down. “No, Grady. This is Declan. Sometimes people call other people brother like a nickname.”

A crease forms between his eyebrows as he slowly nods.

“Your name is Grady?” Declan asks.

Grady nods. “Grady Stone.”

“And … how are you two …?” He points between us.

“Nick is my friend,” Grady answers with a smile. “He picks me up from school and goes on the big slide with me and plays dinosaurs with me.” He gasps. “And he makes me dinosaur nuggets—but don't worry, they're made of vegetables, and you can't even taste them. And sometimes, he even lets me stay up until eight-thirty—but I'm not s'posed to tell Mommy that.”

Declan chuckles. “Your secret is safe with me.” He eyes me suspiciously. “That's a very involved friendship, wouldn't you say, Crawford?”

I slowly rise to my full height, gritting my teeth. I want nothing more than to tell Grady that I'm his father. Hell, knowing what I know now, I would've told him the day we met. Tiffany has agreed to tell him soon, and as much as that frustrates me that “soon” hasn't come yet, I refuse to let this self-righteous asshole rob Grady of a moment that will shape the rest of his life

“Declan, I need you to stop right there. Please.”

He narrows his eyes, quietly assessing me before tapping his nose. “Understood.” He glances down at my son. “Nice to meet you, Grady. Y'all enjoy the rest of the evening.” He gives a curt nod before stalking off into the crowd.

I really, really don't like that guy.

“Look, Nick!” Grady steals my attention, holding his treat in victory. “I got candy!”

“Yum!” I pat his head. “That's a good one, too”

He pushes up his glasses, inspecting the orange packaging. “Is it chocolate?”

I pause. “Haven't you ever had a Reeese's peanut butter cup before?”

He shakes his head. “I don't eat peanuts.”

“Well, this is peanut butter—which is arguably much better—covered with chocolate. It's my favorite.”

His eyes light up, proudly placing the candy into a pumpkin bucket.

“C’mon. Let's get you some more treats.”

We weave from booth to booth, Grady determined to try every game in sight. He tosses rings, lobs beanbags, and proudly catches brightly colored fish from a kiddie pool. He drags me into a photo booth, insisting we wear matching pink boas while making a series of silly faces. His bucket grows heavier with every stop until he finally asks me to carry it.

At the far end of the church grounds, there's a refreshment area where visitors can purchase snacks and drinks before taking a seat at one of the surrounding picnic tables. Grady and I share a large pretzel—minus the “white stuff”—while he enjoys a watermelon-flavored snow cone.

I take a few pictures and send them to Tiffany with well wishes. She responds with a heart emoji, which is somewhat reassuring. At least she's not dead.

“I've never seen one in the wild before!” Julian appears behind us, adopting an overly-exaggerated, overly-terrible Australian accent. “It's a Grady-saurus Rex!”

Grady giggles into his cupped hands. “That's not a real dinosaur!”

Julian raises an eyebrow. “It's not?”

With a wide smile, Grady shakes his head.