The call came in on one of those bleak December mornings when Grey was outside chopping wood for Mara's fireplace. He'd gotten good at it over the weeks, and it had become his thing—that rhythmic axe swing, the sound of wood cracking, and the neat stack of logs growing by the house. He'd bulked up a bit, too, not looking like a ragdoll in oversized clothes anymore.
Mara's voice floated out from the kitchen, all serious through the window. She was on the phone, and even though he couldn't catch the words, something told him it wasn't good. So, he stopped chopping and leaned on the axe to listen closer.
When she hung up, the house went quiet. He figured it was his cue to head inside. Knocking lightly on the back door, he poked his head in.
Mara sat at the table, phone still in hand, staring at Mr. Winter, the snowman they'd made, who was now just a sad little pile of snow. "Everything alright?" he asked.
It took a second for her to remember he was there. "Yeah, it's the bank," she said, her voice low. "I'm three months behind on the mortgage. They want to talk about what to do."
Grey sat down with her. They'd fallen into a routine of sharing meals and quiet times, but money talk had been off the table. He noticed the generic stuff she bought at the store, the way she stretched meals, and the patches on Emma's clothes that he'd thought were just for show.
"What jobs are there around here?" he wondered.
Mara's reply was straight to the point. "Not many for someone like you. The farms barely keep their own families afloat. And the lumber mill's been closed for a year now." She'd been toying with the idea of moving to the city for better opportunities, she admitted.
That's when Grey mentioned his disability payments from the VA. They weren't much, but they were steady, and he figured it was only fair to contribute to his keep. Mara said she couldn't take his money, but he argued that family sticks together.
"I need to think about it," Mara finally said, looking out at the snowy scene.
Later, in his room, Grey did some math. He figured out he could give enough from his disability checks to help with bills without leaving himself completely broke. It was the first time in ages he'd thought about the future without feeling overwhelmed.
The next night, he talked to Mara about it. "Let's see what the bank says about setting up some kind of plan," she told him, looking like she had a lot on her mind.
That's when Grey knew he had to stay. It was more than just the room and the chickens and the wood. It was Emma's little drawings under his door and a purpose to his days. So he told Mara, "I want to stay here. For real. Like part of the family."
Mara took a moment to process it. "Okay," she said slowly. "But let me talk to the bank first."
It was a weird mix of feelings—strange, hopeful, and a bit nerve-wracking. But Grey was ready to help out and make a go of it, no matter what.