Noble Pursuits (8 page)

“Oh, it’s you. Weren’t you just here last week?” Fran whined as Grace entered.

“I love your new color. I wasn’t sure when you showed me the paint chip, but it’s a lovely green.”

“You just never have had an eye for color. What are you doing here?”

Grace settled herself next to Fran and pulled out the stack of photos. Before she could share them, Fran scooted to the side. “You really need to lose some of those pounds, Grace, I feel like I’m on a teeter-totter.”

“Well, take a look at little Graceanna. She was born on Sunday.”

“She’s been here for nearly a week, and I’m just seeing pictures? I tell you, you and Craig don’t have the basics of courtesy anymore.”

This was normal. One minute she was attacked for coming too often, and in nearly the next breath, she heard the whine of being forgotten and unwanted. Nothing Grace could do or say would make a difference, so she smiled and pointed out the natural dimples in Graceanna’s cheeks and chin, and the wide-eyed look they’d already captured from her.

“Have you gotten a job yet?”

“I already have work to do, Aunt Fran. I don’t need a job. How do you like the new exercise room?” Her deflections always failed, but she never failed to try them.

“Listen, Grace, you need to quit playing house and take charge of your life. You have a degree for G—”

“I don’t want to hear it. I know what I can do. I can do what everyone else does. I want to do what I want to do, and I will for as long as I can afford to do it.”

“You’re living like a pauper.”

Her laughter made the attendants in the hall smile. Fran was always in a better mood after Grace left. “Aunt Fran, I
am
a pauper.”

“Well, quit acting like it! You are being ridiculous. You could have everything—”

Grace stood, setting the pictures on the coffee table. “I have everything I want. I need to go. I think I’m upsetting you.”

She leaned in, kissed her aunt’s cheek, smiled into her eyes, and said genuinely. “I love you, Aunt Fran.”

As the door shut behind Grace, Fran Buscher crossed her arms and legs and leaned back into the comfortable couch cushions with a self-satisfied smile on her face. “You have everything but a man, and with all that flab and stuck at home, you’ll never find one of those either.”

Chapter Eight

Grace awoke with renewed vigor. The last week had been physically exhausting, but Grace attributed it to the many quarts of fruit that she’d canned. Her friends paid handsomely for the jelly and fruit that Grace worked so hard to process. The proceeds would feed her through December and then some. Grace often wondered if her customers didn’t pay more for her cooking than it was worth. People always assured her that hand canned fruit and jelly were nearly impossible to buy and very expensive if you were so fortunate as to find a source.

“Well, Missy, you have a full plate today. Mel and the baby are coming to stay while Craig is in Cleveland for that silly conference, and you need to get their room ready, get dinner started, and then pull out those catalogs to plan Gracie-Anna’s spring wardrobe.”

Grace continued with her running dialog as she brushed her hair, made the bed, dressed, and moved from room to room readying the home for the day.

Craig often insisted that Martha Stewart could take lessons from her. Grace always blushed as he talked but appreciated that her brother valued her contribution to the family. His most memorable assertion was, “Martha may love doing everything at home and being involved in the home, but Grace makes an art of it without a large expense account.”

“Mom taught me well, didn’t she, Lord? I miss her. I miss Dad too. Life can be hard and lonely at times, but I love the work that You’ve given me to do and I thank you.” Grace’s prayer continued while she began mixing a triple batch of muffins.

As she looked across the street, the loneliness of Nolan’s house prompted a new line of ramblings. “Nolan is home today, Grace. He’d probably appreciate some hot muffins. If you hurry, you can fix him a basket and get back before Melanie arrives.”

Grace enjoyed the easy friendship that had grown between herself and her new neighbor. One of the things she appreciated most was not being perceived as less than a ‘real’ person for not having a traditional career. They discussed politics, the Word, and music over endless games of checkers on his porch or hers. As the evenings grew cooler, they held fewer matches outdoors, but with Melanie coming to stay for a few days, they had been looking forward to a three-way championship.

~*~*~*~

“Howdy, neighbor! I made muffins for Melanie and thought you might like to have a few while they are hot.”

Nolan smiled at the sight of the basket in Grace’s hand. This wasn’t the first time that Grace had shared her larder with him. Her generous nature was evident at every turn, but Nolan was quite aware of her lack of financial resources. Eventually, he would devise a way to contribute without it being obvious or insulting.

“Morning, Grace. Thank you, I haven’t had breakfast yet. You know, I was thinking about inviting myself to dinner tonight, if you didn’t mind.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “We’d love to have you. Anytime you want to come on over, feel free. Mel and Graci-Anna will be here through Friday evening.”

Nolan stopped Grace as she turned to leave. Tugging on her sleeve, he said, “Well, I can’t invite myself to dinner without bringing something. I have these steaks in the freezer. Do you like steak?”

“That’d be great. I—”

Grace stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Melanie getting out of her van. Grace called a greeting to her sister-in-law, and with a quick wave at Nolan, jogged across the street. “Come when you can, Nolan!”

He watched as Grace helped Melanie bring in her things, cooing to and casually holding the infant all the while. He felt a twinge of awe. Though he loved children, babies made him nervous. His fear of infants was so acute; he’d managed to avoid ever holding one. However, he also knew that tonight he might find himself unable to refuse. “Aaarrrgggh. What was I
not
thinking, inviting myself to dinner?”

~*~*~*~

“Mel, what about this one?” Grace lingered over yet another picture of a delicately smocked dress and sighed at its beauty.

“Grace, you don’t know how to smock. How do you expect to learn how and make that before spring?” Melanie laughed at Grace as she nursed her two-week-old daughter.

“I just
have
to learn how to do this. These are too precious! I think I could do quite well if I made these for that upscale boutique we saw in Rockland last summer. You know, that one where we loved everything but the price tags?”

Melanie was thoughtful. “Ok, let’s make a deal. You can make the dress if I buy the materials for three of them and the supplies to get you started.”

Grace shook her head. “That’s no gift! I was supposed to get to give Graci-anna her first Easter dress, and if you pay for it all, what kind of gift is that?”

“Grace…” Melanie’s tone was firm but gentle.

“What? It’s like me buying you a birthday gift, but you insist on paying me for everything but the shipping?” Grace’s hands were on her hips, and her eyes were flashing. When it came to her financial ‘worth,’ Grace tended to become somewhat unreasonable.

“Grace, listen to me. The hours that you will spend making this dress will be more than an incredible gift. You can even make more smocked dresses if you let me do this, but as hard as it is for me to say…” Melanie paused. It was almost an unwritten rule in the Buscher family not to mention Grace’s minimal income. She finally took a deep breath and continued. “Grace, you can’t afford the classes, books, or supplies to learn this, and you know it. I have stood behind your desire to make it on your own. I understand it, and I will back you up all the way, but you can’t afford to spend your hard earned money on things for my baby.”

Grace looked at her feet a moment or two before starting to protest. “Melanie, I don’t think it’s—”

“Grace.” Melanie’s tone grew stern. “This is your pride talking. I know you love to give. I understand that, I do. But we both know that desire doesn’t produce cash, and for you to insist will hurt you in the long run. What kind of gift is that for us? Can we appreciate and love something that you’ve given that costs you more than you can afford?”

Tears stood in Grace’s eyes. Melanie was right, as usual. Her sister-in-law very seldom stood against anything that Grace or Craig wanted, but when she did, they wisely listened.

“Ok, let’s find out where to buy the stuff. Who do we know that smocks?” Grace was eager to get started and to get her mind off her financial difficulties.

“I don’t know… Paige seems to be here. We can ask her, but somehow I don’t think she’ll know.”

Before Grace could get up to open the door, Paige knocked gently and entered. “Sorry for just coming in, but I didn’t want to wake the baby if she was sleeping.”

“What brings you by at this time of the day?”“ Melanie transferred her little daughter to the arms of her aunt before adjusting her clothing and turning her attention to Paige.

“Well, I drove by your house on my way over, and the kitchen floor is all over your driveway. The wind is picking some pieces up and tossing them in the street and the neighbor’s yards. I thought you might want to call the installer and have him take care of it before something gets damaged.”

Melanie made a beeline for the phone. “Why didn’t you just call? I feel bad that you came all this way.”

“Well, it was an excuse to see you and the baby—and Grace of course!”

“I knew that I should insist on staying home while they did the work. Craig kept going on and on about how I needed my rest, and without someone to help if the baby wouldn’t sleep at night…”

Melanie turned her attention to the contractor who finally answered the phone. Paige and Grace quickly began poring over the different catalogs and magazines. If the two women had been allowed free reign, they could have easily outfitted ten children with their ‘favorites’ alone.

After Melanie returned, Paige told her friends about seeing Nolan at a business lunch that day. “The woman was beautiful and obviously quite interested in him, but he was all business.”

Paige went on to describe the woman’s constant flirtation. The three women laughed hysterically when Paige told about Nolan’s smooth handling of the woman’s insistence that he “be a man and drink a
man’s
drink.” Paige assumed a sultry tone as she imitated the woman’s command.

“So, then he turned to the waiter and said, ‘Just bring me a universal solvent on the rocks, please.’”

“He didn’t! What did the waiter do?” Melanie laughed so hard that tears rained down her cheeks.

“That was the funny thing; the waiter obviously knew what he was talking about, but the woman was absolutely clueless. She sat there looking smug until the waiter showed up with a glass of ice water.”

Grace giggled. “So, what did she do then? I mean, could she tell it was water and not just one of those clear drinks like Vodka or something?”

Paige nodded. “It was obvious. The waiter brought it in a regular water glass and everything. The chick stared daggers at him. He sipped the water, signed the check, closed up whatever he had been showing her, and left.”

Grace was stunned. “I know about that account. It would have been a huge one. I wonder if there was more to it than the drink thing, or if he is that opposed to alcohol?”

Paige shook her head. “I think he just didn’t like her trying to ‘pick him up.’ She was awful. I know some people think I’m not outgoing enough, but this gal was the worst I’ve ever seen. She put her hand on his leg at one point!”

“No way.” Melanie’s eyes bugged.

Grace couldn’t contain herself. “How did he get out of that one?”

“He stood and moved to the chair across from her, as though she needed more space. Uh oh, speak of the devil—the lady-killer himself. I’d better go.” Paige stood briskly and gathered her purse.

“He doesn’t bite, you know.” Grace shook her head and tried to stop Paige from leaving. Several times, she had wondered if Nolan was becoming interested in her friend and wanted to see them together in hopes of confirming her suspicions. Grace thought that Nolan and Paige would make a beautiful couple—and she was right.

“I know he doesn’t, but I don’t know him and…” Paige turned and dashed for the back door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

~*~*~*~

Nolan stood at his kitchen sink seasoning the steaks when he saw Paige Matthews drive up to Grace’s house. “Ahh… now what perfect timing. Perhaps I can finally have a regular conversation with you, Miss Matthews. I think I’ll go to Grace’s in just a little while. She did say anytime was fine!”

He whistled as he wrapped the steaks and washed his hands. Chuckling at talking to someone who wasn’t there, Nolan changed clothes, answered a couple of emails, and then sauntered across to Grace’s house.

From his first meeting with Paige, Nolan had been intrigued. She was beautiful. There was no getting around the fact that the woman was completely stunning, but she was also feminine, and her shyness was a welcome relief from the over-aggressiveness he dealt with daily. He wanted to know more about her as a person but thus far knew only the little that Grace shared with him.

As Nolan knocked on Grace’s door, he saw Paige climb into the familiar sports car. Waving cheerfully, the young woman put her car in gear and sped away before Grace had the chance to open the door. “Paige saw you coming and was out of here before we could invite her to stay! Either you intimidate her more than most people do, or she knows something about you that we might need to know!”

Grace took the platter of steaks to the kitchen and carefully arranged them under the broiler. A salad was in the making, and Melanie was resting as her baby drifted to sleep. “Is she really that shy or have I done something? I’d like to get to know her, but she isn’t being very encouraging.”

“She’s shy, and I think you are doing the right thing by letting her warm up slowly. Guys like Chuck—well, they think because she’s beautiful, that she should love the attention. If they are good looking, they tend to scare her and…well…” Grace blushed as she searched for a way out of the hole she’d dug for herself.