Author's note: Perspective/point-of-view change ahead!

o-o-o-o-o

Grace is storming as she drops out of the tree by the Girardi house and starts to walk home. Joan has never lied to her before. Avoided answering questions, yes, but never lied. Why has she started now? And not even in response to a direct question, even. She just out-of-the-blue volunteered it. Why? If Grace can't trust her anymore … what can she do? How will she explain this to Luke? How do you tell your boyfriend you don't trust his sister, your best friend, anymore? But still … honesty is the most important thing Grace ever requires of a friend … why did her best friend ever except for Rove have to fail her? …

Grace's internal monologue comes up short as she nearly trips over an old man sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. He's wearing a white yarmulke and prayer shawl, and his eyes twinkle behind black-framed glasses as he greets her cheerfully.

"Good morning, shayneh Grace!"

Grace is used to ebullient greetings from the members of her father's synagogue. She shrugs and mutters a brusque "Good morning" in reply. She's about to brush on past when his voice stops her cold.

"She didn't fail you, you know." Grace turns and looks at the man, eyes narrowing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Quite the contrary, in fact, my dear. She trusted you enough to be more honest with you than she's been with anyone … except of course for that extraordinary young man who taught you to fold paper boats and enabled you to sail your dreams down the sewer instead of running away from home."

Grace is floored now.

"I never told anyone how much that meant to me. Not even Rove …"

"No, you didn't, but I did enjoy your poem very much all the same."

"She was … she was telling the truth … and I …"

"No, Grace, you haven't failed her yet." Grace's eyes narrow as she once again hears her own thoughts in her companion's mouth. "You haven't failed her, because you have the free will and loving heart I gave you, and because each moment brings a new choice and a new chance. And because you're an adult now, shayneh maidel, and you know how to ask questions."

Grace turns, almost starts running, but her steps pause for a moment.

"You aren't a member of my father's synagogue at all, then," she says.

"Quite the contrary, daughter of the Torah… I'm there every hour of every day." The old man stands up, grins and turns around. Grace watches carefully as he strolls away, but as soon as he leaves her line of vision, she's sprinting back to the Girardi house. Too exhausted to face the tree-and-gutter route again, she rings the doorbell and waits as Joan clatters down the stairs.

Joan pulls the door open, and Grace takes a small bit of pleasure in the look of relief in her friend's eyes. Joan is about to open her mouth, face alight with questions, but Grace cuts her off.

"Does He always do that annoying smug wave thing?"

-Finis-

Translation: shayneh maidel means "beautiful girl" in Yiddish. A yarmulke is the skullcap worn by Jewish men.

That's all I've got planned! Hope you enjoyed it!