GRIT (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 2) by Tiana Laveen Page A

seat.
    “I love you, Silver. You know that, right?”
    “Yes. I just wanted better for… never mind.” She shook her head and rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture.
    “I got better. Better is you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No regrets. I believe that if something is supposed to happen, it will, you know? I don’t have to force it. I don’t have to make it work. Just like us.” He pointed to himself and then to her. “We didn’t force this shit; we let it happen. Once we saw what was going on, that we were enjoying each other, missing one another, falling in love—we took care of it, we nurtured it. Nothing about me and you was created by us … it was just pure love.” He pulled her towards him in an embrace. She hugged so tight… so long… so strong. He caressed up and down her back and covered her neck in kisses.
    “It’s going to be alright, Silver. What’s mine is mine, and somehow, some way, I’ll get what I’m supposed to get, alright? Just like I got you, just like I get everything in my life that is good and helpful and wonderful. Just believe in me, baby… No sacrifices of love are needed; if that is the case, then it’s just not right for me, and I don’t want it…”

Chapter Seven

    “H er name was Talise, and she was born in Canada,” the old man began, scooting his empty plate across the table with the back of his hand. Silver didn’t expect such a thing. She’d come to the house to meet up with Zenith, but soon discovered he’d gotten held up at work. Problem was, she was already there. Denise insisted she have a bite to eat while she waited, and led her into the kitchen where Paw sat, looking a bit sullen and depressed in a pair of old, blue denim overalls and threadbare, white socks.
    The full moon showed brightly through the window as the soft-spoken woman on the radio sitting on the kitchen counter announced the next song, the old man looked up.
    “Can I talk to you about my grandson?” His eyes pleaded, sparkled with untold tales.
    “Yes, of course… of course,” she answered, eager to hear what Mr. Taylor had to say… it was much more different than she’d imagined. Much more different indeed…
    “Zen’s mother’s family moved here to Syracuse when she was two or three. My wife and I met them, and helped them get situated. They were Seneca, too.”
    Silver nodded in understanding as Denise disappeared to the living room with a dust cloth and Pledge spray.
    “Talise and Degan, my son, were inseparable once they hit their teenage years. Before that, they’d just say pleasantries. I knew that my son, Degan, liked Talise… liked her as more than a friend. Degan was very good in school; he was brave and proud to be Iroquois. He was always helping those that were less fortunate. His mother and I raised him that way. We were blessed. I had good jobs. I had the support of the council. Osha, my wife, Zen’s grandmother, was respected as well and she did a lot for the community.
    “Degan and Talise fell in love and got married. No one was surprised. They just seemed to fit together.” He moved his fingertips together, as if they were drawn to one another like magnets. “They weren’t married more than three or four months before Talise became pregnant.” He smiled sadly. “It was Zen…” He grabbed his water glass and took a shaky sip before setting it back down.
    “Paw, sorry, Mr. Taylor, Zenith really is conflicted about his parents, particularly his father. He’s come a long way, though.”
    The man kept staring down at the table, not looking her in the eye.
    “Yes, I know, and you can call me Paw, that’s fine. You see, Zenith worshiped his father, Silver. Degan knew how to get things done. He understood how to work the system. He also was one of the proudest fathers I’d ever seen. When Zen’s first tooth fell out, he called everyone.” The man chuckled.
    “He always talked about how talented Zen was, too. See,” He coughed