Noble Pursuits (20 page)

“She’s a nice woman. She’s not bad looking, but she’s definitely got a few pounds on her—”

Nolan’s voice cooled considerably. “And your point is?”

“I’m curious to know why you chose the antithesis of every woman who has ever thrown herself at you. I’m worried that you’ve come here, found the opposite of what you could have had and decided it’s better by the mere fact of its difference.”

“That’s ridiculous, Traci! I’ve never heard you be so shallow—” Mike began.

“No, she has a point,” Nolan countered. “I see why it might look like that. I wondered it myself.”

“I think you’re both brutal,” Mike spat out, disgusted at the turn of conversation.

“Look, I’ve been looking for a list,” Nolan began as he walked to his computer and called up a file. He clicked the print button and waited for the paper to drop in the tray. “I started this list over two years ago—more like three and a half. Hadley Parkman proposed to me that night, and I came home desperate for a wife that I could actually pursue first.” He passed the paper to Traci. “Tell me which of those you think Grace doesn’t fill?”

Traci waved the paper back at him. “I’d say all and then more that you should have put on there, but, Nolan, don’t you think it’s strange that you found the one woman who has these qualities and is so far removed—”

“That’s enough.” Nolan’s voice was low and firm. He felt rude, but he’d taken all the assaults on Grace that he could handle. “Where you see her size, I see her. Where you see her poverty, I see her generosity. I can’t stand hearing you criticize someone you just don’t understand.”

A slow smile spread over Traci’s face. “Now
that
is what I wanted to see or hear. I was afraid I’d turned you into a clinical monster when I pushed you to go where the most eligible females lived.”

“I went straight for the most beautiful girl I think I’ve ever met. And she was all wrong for me. You’ll know her immediately tomorrow.”

“Not to change the subject or anything,” Mike began, “but I’m afraid that if I don’t ask now, I won’t remember. How did Grace get that kind of response out of London?”

“That was amazing!”

He shrugged, knowing that things were about to get interesting. “Grace doesn’t tolerate it.”

“Well neither do I, but—”

Nolan’s head shook as Traci spoke. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m telling you, Grace doesn’t tolerate it, so it doesn’t happen. At first, I couldn’t get any kind of reasonable response out of ‘her kids,’” Nolan made air quotes as he spoke, “when they were out of line, but once I saw the difference, I got it. It was an option. I didn’t think it was, but it was. I still expected them to act up, so they did. When I quit expecting it and knew in my heart that I’d never tolerate it again, they quit.”

“What happens if they try to see if you’re serious,” Mike demanded curiously. He’d been trying to gain control over his household since the day Michael Jr. was born.

“Well, they didn’t try with me. I thought they would, actually, but Grace says she’s noticed that kids don’t try as much with men as they do with women. I guess they think women are pushovers.”

Traci stood and refilled her cup. “So, what would Grace do?”

“Depends on the situation. I asked once and she said it all boils down to making it not worth doing. Making whatever they do that is wrong more uncomfortable than just doing the right thing. The kids she babysits actually know that she’ll call their mothers to come get them if they don’t obey her, and some of them have mothers who travel out of state. They’ll come right home, walk out of a business meeting, lose their job if necessary, because Grace says, ‘come get your child.’ The kids know it, and they’re not willing to go home to a mom that just had to do that, so they obey.” He paused. “But it’s not just that. She likes them. She really likes who they are as little people, and I think the children sense that and
want
to please her.”

“I can’t say I always like my kids,” Traci whispered. “I love them but—”

“I know what you mean,” Mike agreed. “You love them to pieces, but sometimes you want to love them a from afar.”

“Bedtime bliss?” Nolan asked, smiling. He’d heard them refer to the term often.

“Isn’t that sad?” Traci asked, shamed. “Isn’t it sad that I actually count the minutes until bedtime some days—sometimes from before lunch!”

“Think Grace could help?” Mike asked a little desperately.

“Can’t hurt to ask.”

~*~*~*~

After breakfast, Nolan took Traci across the street to show her where to find towels, soap, and sundries for the children’s baths. Mike sat at her table watching Grace work, wondering how to broach the subject of his children. “I am still amazed at how you stopped London’s meltdown last night. Usually that would have been a twenty-minute nightmare.”

“It was a simple attempt at a tantrum, and she knew they aren’t allowed at my house.”

“How?”

Grace glanced across the kitchen. “How what?”

“How did she know they aren’t allowed in your house?”

“She got upset when we started to play a different game, and I told her so.”

“You just said,” Mike began incredulously, “‘sorry, kid, no tantrums allowed,’ and she stopped?”

“Close.” Grace’s smile disarmed him. “She wailed and I told her to hush. I said, ‘There is no whining allowed in my house. If you’re going to misbehave, I’ll have to tell Nolan to take you back to his house, but it won’t do you much good. Tantrums aren’t allowed there either.’”

“What’d she do?”

“She gave me a very endearing but challenging glare and told me, in no uncertain terms, that they
were
allowed in her house at home.”

“You’re kidding!”

With a slow shake of the head, Grace continued. “I think she needs someone to take the reins of control back. She doesn’t know how to keep the galloping emotions from running wild, but you as the parent do.”

“But we don’t. We obviously don’t. The melt—”

Grace shook her head. “These aren’t meltdowns. These are tantrums. They are fully capable of controlling themselves; they just choose not to.”

Mike had the grace to blush. “Tantrum sounds so much worse—”

“Which is why you need to use it. If she were truly incapable of controlling herself, it’d be a good time to say so. She’d learn to differentiate between something out of her control and something she can control. Right now, she thinks that control is about how she uses her emotions to manipulate those around her. When it didn’t work, she quit trying.”

Shaking his head, Mike reminded her that she had tried again. “So what’s the use if it only works for a little while?”

“But it didn’t just work for a little while. You came back and she needed to see if the rules changed. I showed her that they didn’t.”

“How did you learn so much about children?” Mike asked amazed.

“I didn’t. I learned about people. You have a business, right?”

He nodded, curious as to where this was going. “Market analysis.”

“So that means you have employees.”

“Yes.”

Grace grinned. “How often do they come in late?”

“They don’t. Almost never.”

“Why not?”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t allow it. If you work for me, you’re on time, or you’re out. I pay my people well and expect integrity and hard work in return.”

“It’s the same thing with a child. They know what is expected, and they give it. Consequences result when they fail.”

“I can’t fire my kids!”

“Well, then,” Grace challenged, “perhaps your employees need a break. Maybe you need to make them eat lunch in their office if they’re late or write a note of apology to everyone if they speak rudely.”

“That’s not much of a deterrent.”

“My point exactly. Working for you is a privilege. It’s an area of mutual respect, but you are clearly the boss. You write the checks, they do the work. If they don’t do the work, you fire them and hire someone who will, and they know it. Why treat children like you’re just appeasing their desire to do a hostile takeover of the company, er, family? Why not admit that you’re the CEO of the family, they’re the ‘employees’ and there are rules they must follow, or they’ll face the consequences.” She grinned. “No, I don’t mean firing them, but they are out of fellowship with their authority.”

“I hate that word.”

She leaned closer and held his gaze for a moment. “Why? You are their authority. God placed you there. You can abdicate all you want, but you’re still responsible for your position as their authority.”

“I guess I get tired,” he confessed. “I hate constantly being in charge. Sometimes I just want someone to tell
me
what to do.”

“Read your Bible lately?”

He laughed. “Touché.”

~*~*~*~

As Mike and Traci loaded their car, Traci pulled Nolan aside, hugged him, and whispered, “She’s a gem. She’s wonderful. Don’t hesitate, don’t over think things. Pray about it and then do it.”

“Do you think I’m ready?”

“Take a day, go hiking, take a million pictures, come home, and ask yourself one question.”

Nolan furrowed his brow, wondering what that question could possibly be. “What?”

“How many times today did you wish she was there with you?”

The minivan turned the corner and drove out of sight, but Nolan still stood in his driveway, Traci’s words ringing through his ears. He knew the answer without leaving. “Too many to count.”

Chapter Eighteen

December

“Grace? Come over here
now
. Please!” Paige’s terrified voice burst over the telephone line.

“What is wrong?” Grace, alarmed by Paige’s frantic and fearful tones, began looking for her purse and pulled on her jacket.

“That man—the one they’ve been trying to catch. You know—the ra—” Paige swallowed the word as though unable to speak it. “He came in and tried to attack me.”

“Don’t move. Call 9-1-1 and then hang up and don’t move. Don’t touch anything, don’t go anywhere, and don’t answer the door. Is it locked?”

“No. After he ran out, I just grabbed the phone and called.”

Grace insisted that Paige lock the door and then stand right next to it as she dialed for the police. “Don’t walk around anymore than you have to. Maybe they can get a shoe print or a hair or something like they do in those TV shows. Who knows? I’ll be
right there
. Does my key still work?”

Clicking off the phone, Grace dashed out her door and ran to Verily’s house. Moments later, they sped toward Paige’s apartment. Grace mulled over the situation as her confused neighbor navigated the streets to get Grace to her desired destination. This was unusual. The attacker had previously attacked family neighborhoods. He seemed to stalk homemakers who were alone all day, not single women in apartments.

Halfway there, it dawned on her that she didn’t know if Paige had been hurt. Steeling herself for the worst, she spent the next few blocks begging the Lord for the right words to say and the wisdom not to speak when she shouldn’t. “That’s like asking Rolex to avoid the food in front of him if he’s not really hungry.”

“What, Gracie honey?”

Verily’s deep southern drawl soothed Grace’s nerves. She explained that she was just concerned about Paige and promised to let Verily know why the woman had insisted that she come over later. It seemed wrong to share that information until Paige gave her permission to.

An officer pulled into the parking lot of Paige’s apartment complex as Grace knocked on the door. “Paige, I’m coming in. Just wanted to warn you.”

The door flung wide open and a disheveled and injured Paige threw herself into Grace’s arms and sobbed. An officer raced up the stairs two at a time with his partner close behind him. “Is she alone? Is she safe? How long since the attacker left?”

Paige shook her head and told the officer what time the man had run off. She gave them a good description of the intruder, and Grace sagged in relief when she heard that the man hadn’t been able to do more than scratch her and bruise her shin. “I don’t know what happened, but I just kind of went nuts when he pushed in here. I kicked him and screamed, and I don’t know what all. I am so mad at that guy I could tear his eyes out! He’s such a small weasel of a man too! I can’t figure out how he overpowered anyone!”

Later that evening, Grace recounted the story to Craig, Melanie, and Nolan. “They’re ‘processing’ her now. They wouldn’t let me stay since I’m not family, so her mother is coming in from the city. I don’t know what happened, but she kicked him in the face and a piece of his tooth was left on the coffee table with some blood, so if they find the guy, they’ve got cosmetic evidence now and something about DNA. That’s what they called it. I would have expected something more descriptive or scientific.” Grace sounded disappointed.

“Maybe they just used that term so you’d understand what they meant.” Nolan meant to tease but Grace nodded wisely.

“That’s probably it. Anyway, she said, ‘He looked a little familiar, but I am not sure why.’ Where do you think she saw him?”

No one could think of where she could have met the man. Paige didn’t have much of a social life, and none of them wanted to think that the culprit could be any of her clients or anyone from church. “Does anyone know where she lives? Her clients, I mean, do they know?”

Craig looked with concern at his sister. Grace created columns on a notepad, organizing her thoughts. It was a habit begun in grade school by an exacting teacher, but it served her well at times like this. After years of reading her assignments from across the table, Craig had perfected the art of reading upside down. There was one column for church, one for business associates, one for the women who had been attacked, and one for commonalities.

Rolex tried to climb her leg and settle into her lap, but Grace didn’t seem to notice. Melanie took pity on the whimpering puppy and asked for Craig’s opinion of the situation as she picked up the fur ball. “Where could this guy have gotten her address? Everyone in Paige’s complex works all day. There isn’t even an older neighbor home watching the comings and goings like Grace has here with Mr. Wirth.”