Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

I release a breath, push away from the sink, and walk back out into the living room. Daniel, who’s still on the floor, has his head down beside one of the puppies, his eyes barely staying open. Kelsey still has her head stuck in the puzzle book. She must have carried it with her from their truck. It looks well-worn, with the pages curled, indicating she uses it a lot. I look over at Gwen sitting beside her. “You three can have my bed.” My suggestion surprises her and she gets up from the couch. “Alexander, we can’t take your bed.” Hearing her say my name does something to me. That’s the third time she’s said it. It still sounds foreign coming from someone other than my family, but it’s nice. “Yes, you can. There’s three of you. You can’t all fit on the couch.” “The kids can have the couch. If you have extra blankets, I can sleep on the floor.” I give her a look that says she’s stupid if she thinks I’m going to let her sleep on the hard floor. I may be out of practice dealing with people, but I’m not so far gone that I’ll allow something like that. “That’s not happening, Gwen.” It’s not until she looks at me strangely that I realize that’s the first time I’ve said her name out loud. I wonder if she got the same weird feeling I get when she says my name. She looks down at the couch, then back at me. “But you won’t fit on the couch. Your feet will hang off the edge.” “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept on worse, and it’s only for a few days.” She bites her lip as she thinks it over. I ...