The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) (2 page)
Read The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) Online
Authors: Cathy Bryant
A big lady brought their burgers wrapped in white paper, and set them on the table along with white Styrofoam cups and a red plastic basket of steaming fries.
Graciela reached for the cup and sucked hard
to get the thick chocolate milk
shake into her mouth, where it melted and ran down her throat.
Mama rustled the white paper wrapping.
“
Remember when you stole a cookie from the jar and accidentally b
roke the lid? I asked if
you
did it
,
and you said no.”
“I was afraid you’
d be mad at me.”
She spoke around the big bite of burger she’d just taken.
“
Ahh
, sweet daughter, you must not let the opinions of others keep you from doing the right thing, but that is a very difficult lesson to learn.” Mama leane
d her head back, her eyes trained on the sky
. “But you see that you are not perfect, right? That even though you are good most of the time, you are not good all the time?”
It was true. There were times she got angry
with
her brothers for teasing her. Times when she was so upset with Papa that she wished . . . No! She mustn’
t wish such things!
“I can tell by the look on your face that you know it
is
true. As much as we want to be perfect, we are not.” Mama’s voice was a soft spring breeze.
Graciela’s
shoulders sagged
. Why couldn’t she be good all the time?
Mama’s fingers gently lifted her chin.
“Don’t be sad,
la
hija
. That is why God gave
us
Jesus
. We are born with
part of us broken on the inside.” Mama
patted
her chest
with one hand
. “By His grace, He will one day make us complete. Until then, we must do our best, but trust in His grace.”
A sudden understanding flew to her heart.
“My name.”
The awe and
wonde
r she felt came out in
her words
.
Mama
nodded
,
a tender
look
on her face
. “Yes, Graciela. You are named for God’s grace.
I was saved right before you were born.
”
Warmth flooded
her being, and
gratitude to God for what He’
d done swelled in her chest. When
they pulled away
from
Dairy Maid
a few minutes later, Graciela could not remember a time when she felt so
completely happy.
They stopped at a red
light, and Mama reached over to tickle
her ribs.
She giggled. As she dodged Mama’s wiggling fingers, she glimpsed a
car headed toward them so fast
it looked like a gray blur.
The light turned green and her mother pulled into the intersection.
Graciela opened her mouth
in warning
, but the words clumped in her throat, finally bursting forth in a scream.
1
Fifteen years later
A
car horn blasted
through the
summer evening
air, followed
by tires screeching against
pavement
and the
rancid
smell of
burning
rubber
. Grace yanked her head in Mama’s direction. T
he noisy blast continued as
a car
bore down on
them.
E
verything
went pitch black
as Mama’s piercing scream
joined
her own
,
followed by
a deadly thud
.
Heart racing, Grace jerked awake, forcing herself to a sitting position.
The same old nightmare.
She
brought both hands to her face
and gulped in air
to slow her pounding pulse. Why now? She’d endured
the last year of
law scho
ol and the bar exam without
memories of tha
t awful night plaguing her. But now that she was back in Miller’s Creek
to
work for Tyler, Dent
,
and Snodgrass
as a full-fledged attorney
, the dream shattered her sleep
for the fourth time in a
week.
Grac
e pulled her hands away fr
om her face—
almost afraid to find them
dri
pping with blood
—then
glanced at the
alarm
clo
ck on her
makeshift
nightstand. 5:15
in the morning
.
Sh
e flopped back on the bed and stared at the dark nothingness above her head. There was no way she’d get bac
k to sleep
now
.
Might as well get an early start.
A sudden rush of e
xcitement coursed through her veins.
A
ll her hard work had finally paid off.
Now it was time to
enjoy herself for a change and
initiate
her life plan
, which included a stellar career, new house, Mr. Right, and of course, children
.
She removed the band that
confined
her hair and gave her head a shake.
Better
to
just
focus on her career at this point,
her best chance at
proving her worth—to Papa, to the people of Miller’s Creek, and to Mr. Right, whoever he was.
The cold
floor
beneath
her bare feet
sent shivers rippling
through her body as she raced
down the hallway to
the
tiny kitchen
to make
a pot of coffee for Papa. Within a few minutes the coffee machine gurgled and the fresh-brewed aroma permeated every square inch of the house.
She was jus
t about to head
for a show
er when Papa entered
.
“You’re up early.” His eyes held questions.
There was no way she’d tell him about the nightmare. No need to cause him worry or pain.
“
Just
excited about this being my first day as an attorney.”
He wandered past her to
pull a coffee cup from the cabinet
. “It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks.” He droned the words, his voice flat.
Grace rolled her lips between her teeth.
It would be nice to
have a word of congratulations--a
nything to recognize
her hard work and achievement--b
ut wishing
for
it wouldn’t make it happen.
Instead she sent a sad smile.
“I’
d
better get ready for work
.”
She
hurried down the hall to
the only bathroom in the house
and turned on the lights and
the little space heater
Papa had hung from a nail
protruding from
the paneled walls. The power cord
snaked
behind
the sink faucet before finding the overloaded
outlet—a
n electrical disaster
waiting to happen, but Papa’s way of making do with what he had.
The pipes groaned in protest when she turned on the faucet and
waited for the water to get warm.
Living
with
Papa
and his stony silence
would definitely
be
the hardest part of her plan
, but
it
would have to do
for now
.
With
her brothers and their
familie
s
now in South Texas, it was her only option.
An
hour later, she stepped
once more into the
kitchen
, dressed and ready for work
.
Grace reached for the spiral notebook that served as her daily planner and checked off the tasks she’d already completed. Start laundry. Check. Make bed. Check.
Bible study and prayer.
Check.
Millie, the stray cat she’d taken in years ago, butted her head against Grace’s leg, begging for attention. She squatted to scratch the fluffy feline behind the ears. “How’s my kitty?” Grace scooped the cat into her arms and hugged her close. How would she have survived Mama’s death without t
he
perky ears always willing to listen?
The ba
ck door swung open. D
ressed in his heavy brown coveralls,
Papa
entered,
and
br
ought
with
him a gust of cold air
and
the smell
of
cow
s
. He didn’t
say a word, but ambled past
her
to the
kitchen
sink to wash his hands, his
dirty work boots clomping against the old wooden floor, his
face
devoid of a
smile
.
She
wrinkled her nose,
dropped Milli
e to the floor
,
and
br
ushed cat hair from her black skirt
.
Long gone were the hopes that he
r father
would be proud of her for becoming an attorney.
“Through with the chores?
”
He continued to wash his hands
without
looking her way
.
Grace
forced
her hurt fe
elings
aside
, her mouth suddenly dry
. She should be used to his emotional distance
by now. “
Papa,
I know you don’t approve
of me being an attorney,
but—”
He held up one hand for silence
,
his back still to her,
water dripping down his sleeve.
“Enough, Graciela.
I don’
t want
to discuss this anymore. You made up your mind to disrespect my wishes long ago.”
H
is
displeasure
hanging
li
ke dead weight around her neck,
Grace
blinked back tears
and pick
ed
up
her old book bag
.
It was way too early
, but she m
ight as well go to work
. She’d
grab
a pastry
at
Granny’s Kitchen
on the way
. No, on second thought
,
it wouldn’t hurt to skip breakfast. That way she’d save
money and inch toward losing those
last few pounds
she’d gained while studying for the bar
.
Without another word to Papa, s
he
slipped
out of the house, climbed in
the
battered old farm truck
, and headed to the office.
A late
autumn fog engulfed downtown Miller’s Creek
, and t
he two- and three-stor
y hewn-
stone buildings rose above the mist, silent sentinels observing the march of time. The buildings had seen
over a century of use, and thanks to the grant bestowed on the town while she was in high school, had been lovingly restored to their former glory.
Though early November was a little early fo
r Christmas decorations
, Miller’s Creek
had
them up
well
ahead of time for the tourists who
would pour into
the historic
town
square
for
shopping
. Already
the old-timey street lamps were f
estooned with lighted wreaths,
while
g
reenery drape
d the Victorian gazebo
and lights twinkled from Christmas trees placed throughout the square.