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Grayson's Vow

Grayson's Vow

Description : Grayson's Vow
"Never fret, my love, the universe always balances the scales. Her ways may be mysterious, but they are always just."

Isabelle Dallaire, "Gram"


In a long history of bad days, this one was at the top of the list. And it was only nine a.m. Stepping out of my car, I took a deep breath of the balmy, late summer air and began walking toward Napa Valley Savings Bank. The sultry morning shimmered around me, the sweet scent of jasmine teasing my nose. I sighed as I pulled open the glass front door of the bank. The peaceful beauty seemed wrong somehow—the bleakness of my mood in direct contrast to the warm, sunshiny day. An arrogant idea, I supposed. As if the weather should express itself according to my mood.

"May I help you?" a cheery brunette asked as I approached her teller window.

"Yes," I said, withdrawing my ID and an old savings book from my purse. "I want to close this account." I slid both toward the teller. A corner of the savings book was folded back, revealing numbers my gram had entered when showing me how to keep track of our deposits. The memory tore at my heart, but I forced what I hoped was a cheerful-looking smile as the girl took the book, opened it, and began entering the account number.

I thought back to the day we'd opened the account. I'd been ten, and my gram had walked me here and I’d proudly deposited the fifty dollars she'd given me for helping with yard work throughout the summer. We'd made trips to this bank over the years when I'd stayed at her house in Napa. She'd taught me the true value of money—it was meant to be shared, used to help others, but also represented a type of freedom. The fact that I currently had little money, few options, and every material possession I owned was stuffed...