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Authors: Carey Heywood

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BOOK: Stages of Grace
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I'm now hiccupping as I speak. "I couldn't leave him when he didn’t have a job."

"So you were supporting him?"

I nod, dabbing my nose.

"Is he working now?"

"Mm hmm."

"Are you happy?"

My face crumples, and I am too embarrassed to respond so I get up to go to my room. Before I can make it into the house, Ryan is there, pulling me into a hug. I bury my face into his chest as he wraps his arms around me, his mouth by my ear gently murmuring, “Shhh, shhh.” After a moment, self awareness hits me. I feel foolish and stiffen in his arms. Sensing my discomfort, Ryan opens his arms and places his hands on my arms, rubbing up and down as if trying to warm me.

I pull both my top and lower lip into my mouth and bite them, closing my eyes, head tilted to the ceiling. I release my lips. "I'm just going to head to bed."

"Are you sure, dear?" Kate looks at me and then Ryan, then back at me.

Ryan pulls his hands back, putting them in his back pockets, taking a step back to unblock the doorway to the kitchen. I nod and flee. Once in my ro
om, I pull on my pajamas and lie across my bed to finish crying without an audience. Maybe twenty minutes later, there is a soft knock at my door.

I wipe my eyes before saying, "Come in."

Ryan peeks his head in the doorway. "I brought ice."

I scoot back against my pillows, straightening out my leg as Ryan sits on the edge of my bed.

"We might want to take the bandages off and let it breathe."

I nod, reaching to do it myself, but Ryan brushes my hands away so I smirk at him and fold them on my lap. He slowly rolls the leg of
my scrubs up to uncover my knee. He's careful as he eases the bandages off. It doesn’t hurt at all until the final bit of adhesive pulls some skin from the sensitive area under my knee, making me flinch. Ryan's hands freeze, his eyes flicking up to the pained expression on my face. It only hurts for a moment, and since the bandage is now off, Ryan looks back down to inspect my knee. He puts his hands under my leg to lift it a bit. His hands are still cold from the ice, and I shiver. He pulls the throw blanket off the corner chair to wrap around me.

"Better?"

I know his question isn’t just about being cold. I nod.

He smiles and wraps the ice around my knee. "You should probably keep that on your knee for at least fifteen minutes. Want me to keep you company?"

"Oh, you don’t have to."

"It's alright. I don’t mind."

"Okay." I twist my fingers absentmindedly under the blanket, feeling very nervous with Ryan still sitting on my bed. I'm not a pretty crier and can only imagine how splotchy my face must look.

We sit there for a few moments, both of us on my bed. I’m not sure what to say, and he isn’t saying anything. The silence that hangs between us begins to feel almost solid. I start to ask him something. He speaks up at the same time, so we both stop, laughing, telling the other person to go ahead. Ryan insists I go first.

"Do you have brothers or sisters back in New Zealand?"

"I have two older sisters. One is still in New Zealand. The other now lives in Australia."

"Do you miss them?"

"They were a bit older than me so they acted more like second mothers than sisters. I was a bit spoiled." He smiles as though he remembers something and goes on. "They both have husbands and kids of their own now. Jean, my oldest sister, came out here with her family last year for a visit. Orlando isn’t far, and they went to meet Mickey Mouse."

"Nieces and nephews?"

"Yep.
Jean has two boys. Um, one is sixteen and the other maybe twelve. Nancy has a girl and a boy. Stacy is fourteen and Adam nine. I think that's about right, give or take a year."

"Are you close to them?"

"Jean's oldest had his heart set on moving out here to work with me over the summer. I wasn’t up to it."

"Why not?"

"Ugh. That kid thinks he's a lady's man of some sort right now. No, thank you. I'm waiting for his hormones to settle down before I even think about it."

"No way!
He can't be that bad."

"My sister is convinced he's going to knock up half his class."

I cover my mouth I'm laughing so hard.

"You have a lovely laugh, Grace."

That stops me. I blush, looking down.

"And now you've stopped. I should have kept my mouth shut."

I feel like covering my face with a pillow. "Stop looking at me."

"Afraid I can't do that."

My eyes flick up to his. There he is, sitting on my bed, flirting with me. I have no idea what to do or say. His gaze is too much for me. I look down and nervously worry at one of my fingernails. What's wrong with me? Why can’t I function around him? It’s like being in high school all over again. God, I'm twenty-five years old. I assumed I'd figured out talking to the opposite sex by this point.
Ryan looks at his watch and reaches to unwrap my knee. He shakes the ice-pack as he stands and pauses as if about to speak. Instead, he gives me a broad smile and wishes me sweet dreams on the way out.

I flex my knee, trying to see if a bruise is already forming or not, but it looked too blotchy from the ice. Getting settled to go to sleep, I think about Jon. Other than letting him
know I had arrived safely, we have not had any contact. What is it going to be like when I get home? I only have three more days until I find out. Even though it had just been Jon in my thoughts, I fall asleep picturing Ryan's green eyes.

~*~

The next morning, my knee feels very sore and is a strange shade of purple. I slowly make my way to the kitchen to retrieve the ice pack. It’s still early, and Kate is still asleep. I hope to ice my leg, shower, and be dressed for the day before she gets up. I don’t even know if the ice is doing anything for my knee at this point but figure that it can’t hurt. Afterward, while in the shower, I swear I can smell fresh coffee. Kate's up.

I wear a pair of yoga pants, happy the length covers my angry-looking bruise. Kate is pulling eggs out of the fridge when I walk into the kitchen. I impulsively walk over and give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

Kate’s face breaks out into a wide grin. "Aren't you sweet? I was thinking eggs this morning. How do you like yours?"

I'm happy with any kind so she makes scrambled eggs and tops them with shredded cheese. While she manages the eggs, I slice up a cantaloupe for us to share after pouring myself a cup of coffee. As we eat by the pool, Kate asks me if I would like to do any sightseeing. I am happy to go or stay at the house.
she seems to want to take me to see the mermaid show at Weeki Wachee, which isn’t far. I try to casually ask if Ryan will be coming. Kate doesn’t say anything, but her eyes dance as she tells me that he has to work that day. I'm confused, wondering how we will get there.

"You can drive my car."

"You have a car?"

Kate had stopped driving a couple of years ago when she could not pass the eye exam to keep her license. She kept the car and just let Ryan drive it from time to time to make sure everything still worked. She knew it would make more sense to sell it but just couldn't part with it. She kept it stored at Ryan's house because he had a garage. She sends me over to his house with her spare key to collect it. I feel strange walking into Ryan's house alone, almost like I'm snooping. I have a valid reason for being there. Kate sent me to retrieve the car. It's just that once I'm there, I cannot help the compulsion to look around.

The front door opens into a sitting room similar to Kate's. The house in general seems the same only a mirror image, so the rooms are on different sides. Instead of a lanai, Ryan's rental has a garage. His style seems very minimalist, a beige sofa and TV in the front room, a bar-height dark wood table and chairs in the kitchen. I don't dare look in his bedroom. That would be crossing the line. I do look at the artwork he has on the walls, mainly black and white tropical photos. I wonder if they are pictures from his travels. The entrance to the garage is off the kitchen. As I pass the table, I notice a hoodie slung over the back of one of the chairs. I lift it to my nose. It smells like him. He wears a cologne I don't recognize but like. This smells like that mixed with a salty smell: the gulf or sweat, I wonder.

Once I’m in the garage, I stop to check out Kate's car. It's a silver Cadillac with a convertible top. I'm slightly intimidated driving it. Hopefully, this place isn’t too far, and Kate still knows how to get there. I hit the button to open the garage door, and as slowly as possible, back Kate's Caddy out onto the street, swinging it around to pick her up. There's a garage door opener attached to the visor that I click to shut
the door behind me. Weeki Wachee is an hour north from her house. As we drive, I ask her more about my mother. The one thing that still bothers me about Kate's version is I just can't picture my mom hanging on to anger that long to never let Kate back into her life.

Kate doesn’t mince words. She accepts all the blame and feels like a part of her started pushing my mom away after Ronny died. After all of that time, once she understood my mother found someone to love her, my mother left and didn’t look back. Kate doesn’t blame her. She only wishes she could have understood better at the time the consequences of her actions. It still doesn't sit well with
me, it just feels out of character for my mom to act that way. I have this image of her and have to accept the fact that maybe she is human and can hold a grudge. Kate seems bent on me not remembering my mother in anything less than a positive light.

"Grace, I'm not the same person I was those days. Living in that house, surrounded by all of those memories, was not healthy for me. I don't fault your mother for not forgiving me. I wasn't an easy person to be around. I was cold and angry and felt like I couldn't deal with the world around me."

I have a hard time connecting the image Kate portrays of herself with the person sitting next to me. I let it drop, not wanting to upset her. I have a good time seeing the mermaid show. The park is full of little girls and their parents or grandparents. I smile being able to lump myself into that category even though I'm much older.

~*~

Once we are back at Kate's house, she takes a nap while I return the car to Ryan's garage. Ryan is pulling into his driveway as I'm letting myself out of his house.

"We took Kate's car out," I explain, feeling my face get hot.

"Sorry, my place is a mess."

"What? It seemed clean, but I only saw the front room and the kitchen."

"No peeking at my boxers?"

"No, not that I would admit it if I had" I joke.

He rubs his chin and smiles "I will now assume you did."

"Don’t!"

"But it's more fun that way. So what do you ladies have planned for lunch?"

"Kate's resting right now. I was just going to make myself a sandwich. Want one?"

Ryan follows me back to Kate's house and keeps me company in the kitchen while I make our lunch. He rambles on about his day. I like the sound of his chatter. We take our plates out by the pool. I'm really going to miss the weather. I'll not be outside like this until well into spring back home. Ryan pours us some lemonade and asks me how I like Kate's car. I tell him it’s longer than any car I've ever driven so other than being nervous when I was parking I think it is a great car. Ryan loves that car, telling me how he would put the top down and drive Kate around town. It makes me wonder why Ryan seems content to spend his time with Kate instead of people closer to his own age.

I have been so distracted I miss what he asks me. "Sorry?"

"Want to go out with me tonight?"

"I don’t know. What about Kate?"

"No worries. I cleared this with the boss lady last night."

"I guess."

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to."

"No. I didn’t
mean—what I meant to say was you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to, Grace. I'm asking you because I'd like to."

"Well, in that case..."

It is settled. Ryan will pick me up at seven. He helps me clear the plates before he goes back to work. Kate comes out not long after, having finished her nap. I'm onto her.

"Did you fake a nap so Ryan and I would be alone?"

"Oh, Ryan stopped by? How is he?"

"You can't fool me." I smile. "He's great and taking me out tonight."

"Oh, I'm so happy you said yes."

"Mm hmm. Has your matchmaking made you work up an appetite? Can I make you a sandwich?"

"Oh, that'd be lovely, dear."

~*~

That night, I wear a cream-colored sundress with little eyelets at the hem. The dress comes down to my knees. My bruise is an odd shade of blue now. I take a green cardigan with me in case it cools off. I wear brown ballet-style flats and a small, green
crossbody bag for my wallet. I borrow Kate's curling iron, adding some gentle waves that hit just past my shoulders. As I put on some mascara, I wonder if all the sun has lightened my hair, or maybe I’m just not used to seeing it styled. Not one for much makeup, I actually put on a little blush. Pointless, I think, since I always seem to feel red-faced around Ryan.

BOOK: Stages of Grace
10.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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