I, Gracie

by Sharon Sala

  "What are you doing tomorrow?" John asked.

  Gracie shrugged. "Laundry, unless you have a better idea."

  "I have a better idea," he said. "Do you have a swimsuit?"

  "Yes."

  "Want to go swimming?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Where?"

  "There's a place called Moonshine Beach that's not far. Sandy beaches all the way to the water, and the water's clear and blue as the sky. It's a pretty perfect place to spend some time, and there are picnic tables."

  "Yes, I would love to go."

  "Great! I'll pick you up around ten, if that's not too early, and get picnic stuff. We can swim a while before we eat."

  "I'm in, but I'm warning you ahead of time. People will stare at my scars."

  "Do you care?" John asked.

  "No. I'm used to it."

  He frowned. "Then I don't care, either. All they are to me is proof of how hard you fought to stay alive. And I promise you now. You will never have to fight another battle alone."

  Gracie was lying in bed, but still awake, long after John had brought her home.

  They were going to make love. And she was going to give her heart to him forever when that happened. She had long since given up believing there was anything good left for her in this world, but he was everything she'd ever wanted in a man. When he'd appeared like the miracle he was, her course had been charted. All she had to do now was commit.

  She fell into a deep, dreamless asleep, until long about morning when a memory slipped in for a visit.

  * * *

  Mamie and Daphne were out on the back porch skipping rope. Gracie wanted to join them, but there were only two jump ropes, and they wouldn't share. So she sat, watching their feet dancing between the turn of the ropes, listening to the rhythm of their steps and their rhyme.

  "Daphne loves Melvin—Mamie loves Guy.

  Easy peasy—puddin' and pie.

  Cross my heart—and hope to die."

  "Can I have a turn?" Gracie asked.

  They ignored her.

  Gracie got up and wandered back into the house, her shoulders slumped, her feet dragging.

  "What's wrong with my baby girl?" Delia asked, as she looked up from the peas she was shelling.

  "They won't share. They won't let me play."

  Delia tossed a pea pod back in the bowl and wiped her hands.

  "I'll play with you," Delia said. "What do you want to play, sugar?"

  "I can't swim, Mama. I want to learn how to swim."

  Delia frowned, and then nodded. "Let me go change my clothes."

  "But we don't have a pool," Gracie said.

  "We have a great big water tank now, don't we?"

  Gracie nodded.

  "Then that's gonna be our pool."

  Gracie shivered with delight as her mama hurried off to change. She came back wearing old shorts and one of Tommy's t-shirts, and out the back door they went.

  Daphne looked up. "Mama, where are you and Gracie going?"

  "To play," Delia said.

  "We want to play, too," Mamie said.

  "Sorry. You wouldn't play with Gracie...now you don't get to play with us."

  "But Mama! That's not fair!" Daphne wailed.

  Delia paused, then turned around.

  "No... You two are the ones who weren't fair to your little sister. You just go on with what you're doing."

  Mamie threw down her jump rope and started bawling.

  Delia took Gracie's hand and kept walking, paying no attention to them.

  They reached the big stock tank at the far end of the corrals. Delia eyed the water level, then started the pump to add some water.

  Gracie looked over into the tank. Unlike the bathtub in the house, she could not see the bottom.

  "Is this water clean, Mama?"

  "Not for us to drink, so keep your mouth closed. But it's good enough to learn to swim in. Are you ready?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Gracie said.

  Then Delia lifted her up in her arms, hugging her close for just a moment.

  "Love you forever, baby girl," Delia said, and then kicked off her shoes and climbed into the tank with Gracie in her arms.

  * * *

  Gracie woke, rolled over onto her back, and looked up at the canopy over her bed. This was not the stock tank, and thanks to Mama, she already knew how to swim.

  "I'm sorry John didn't get to know you, Mama. He would have loved you as much as I did," Gracie said, and then got out of bed.

  She didn't want to waste a minute of this day.

  Joel Freemont had been home two days, and he could already see his wife was a changed woman.

  The day they'd come home from the hospital, he'd had to lean on Mamie's shoulder as they'd walked into the house. Unlike Mamie, he had almost no memory of the attack. It was such a relief to be home.

  The house was clean, spotless as always, because Mamie had made sure their house cleaners came the day after the attack. She already felt like she was walking in Gracie's shoes, but she hadn't wanted to come home to a stain on her floor that never went away, and so it was gone.

  Mamie catered to and babied Joel to the point of distraction, and for the first time in his life, he let her. She wanted him to know that he mattered to her and hoped to God she still mattered to him.

  This morning they were sitting at the breakfast table, sharing sections of the Sunday paper as they ate.

  "Joel, honey, do you want another piece of toast?" Mamie asked.

  "No, thank you. I'm stuffed. That was a delicious breakfast, though."

  Mamie beamed, and then got up and refilled their coffee.

  "Do you want to take a little walk today before it gets too hot? Just down to the end of the block and back?"

  "Maybe this evening, closer to sundown," he said.

  "Whatever you say. You just let me know if you feel like it later."

  "I will," Joel said, but he was looking at Mamie's face now, and he knew she had something else on her mind. "Mamie?"

  "Yes?"

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  Mamie sighed. "Nothing is wrong. But I've been thinking we don't need to go to any more counseling sessions. I know and accept that I am at complete fault for everything that happened. I was a selfish, self-centered bitch, and I don't much like myself right now. But I'm getting past it. If you can forgive me, I swear on my life, I will never let you down again, and I will hold myself accountable for my words and actions."

  Joel reached across the table.

  "I'm good with that," he said.

  She nodded. "Thank you. Now, you go rest...take the Sunday paper with you. I'm going to clean up the kitchen, and then I'll check on you later."

  Joel got up slowly, gathered the papers, and kissed her cheek on his way out of the room.

  Mamie watched him leave, then began cleaning. Some days, if she didn't focus on something else, she still saw blood on the floor. As long as she lived, she would never get over it. No wonder Gracie was mad. If she hadn't saved herself and Mama, her own siblings would have let the both of them die.

  She began cleaning off the table and loading the dishwasher, and when she was through, she ran a dust mop over the floor.

  Mama had always told them cleanliness was next to Godliness, and Mamie needed to be as close to God as she could get.

  Daphne celebrated by having breakfast out with one of her realtor friends. Yesterday, she'd made the biggest sale of her career, and was going to net nearly fifty thousand dollars as her broker's fee.

  She wanted to call Mamie, but ever since Sweetwater, Mamie had changed. She wasn't as much fun to talk to anymore, and always serious. Mamie told Daphne that what happened to Joel was karma for what she'd done to Gracie, and she had to be better and do better.

  Daphne had let her talk, listening and agreeing, and then after sending Joel her love, she'd hung up.

  Mama was dead. Gracie was dead to them. And Mamie had gotten religion. The world she thought she'd known had all come u
ndone. All she could do was keep working, and making sure when she got old, she had enough money to pay someone to take care of her, because it appeared that she'd put money and career ahead of life and loving, and now she was too set in her ways to change.

  James was waiting on word from the lawyer in Sweetwater that Delia's will had cleared probate. He couldn't put any property up for sale until it was legally in his name, and he needed to get rid of it. It was the weight on his soul that kept holding him down.

  He had nightmares almost every night now where his daddy stood at the foot of his bed, shouting at him for abandoning Mama and Gracie.

  Every time, he'd wake up sweating and crying, promising over and over he would make it right. He’d lost the chance to help Mama, but he could make sure Gracie was not suffering.

  He didn't know where she was, but he knew Darlene would. When the time came, he'd grovel and eat all the crow it took to find out. But for the time being, he was on hold.

  Gracie was wearing her swimsuit beneath a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She packed everything else she thought she might need in a big tote bag and was now anxiously awaiting John's arrival.

  The dream she'd had last night was still with her. That first swimming lesson had been scary and funny, and one of the best days of her life. At the time, she hadn't realized how many times her older sisters had left her out or pushed her aside. But looking back, it was obvious how easy it had been for them to push aside their responsibilities to her and Mama later. They were just doing what they'd always done.

  As she was waiting, she texted back and forth with Darlene, but when John drove up, she stopped.

  Gotta go! John is here.

  She dropped her phone in her tote bag and went out onto the landing, locked up, and ran down the steps to meet him.

  "Hey, honey!" John said, as he gave her a quick hug and a kiss. "Ready to go get your feet wet?"

  "Can't wait," she said.

  "Me either," John said. "Buckle up."

  She buckled herself in as he got back behind the wheel, and then they were gone.

  The drive to Moonshine Beach was further from Branson than she'd been before. And, as she was discovering, everything was scenically beautiful. Then she remembered John said he was from Kansas, which was just about as flat as West Texas, and she got curious.

  "Um...John, you said you were from Kansas, so what brought you here?"

  "Silver Dollar City," he said.

  "I've never been there," Gracie said.

  "I'll take you one day. My parents used to bring my sister and I here every year. Mom and Dad liked the music shows, and we liked Silver Dollar City and all the rides, crafts, and the candy makers. After I grew up, I kept remembering how pretty it was in Missouri. Kansas is flat and green. I wanted mountains and trees. I had a degree in horticulture when I came here, but I couldn't pay someone to give me a job, so I created my own."

  Gracie nodded, letting the story of John settle within her, picturing their lives all moving toward this point where they'd finally met, and wondering how that all worked. Was there really a bigger plan in the cosmos, or was this all random chance?

  "What are you thinking?" John asked.

  "In a nutshell...what a miracle it was that you and I ever met."

  "Meant to be, darlin'."

  She smiled. She'd always wanted to be somebody's darlin'.

  "We're here," John said, pointing to the signs directing them into the parking area. He paused to pay for parking, and then moved on into the lot.

  "Got your suit on under your clothes?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Me, too. As soon as we park, we can strip down, grab our towels, and I'll lock everything up in the SUV."

  Stripping down, as John called it, didn't take long. Within minutes, they were striding across the sand on their way to the water—John in his blue and yellow board shorts, and Gracie in a green and white two-piece. She'd braided her hair to keep it out of her eyes, and it was all she could do not to run.

  John saw the excitement in her eyes and gave her braid a gentle tug.

  "The roped off area is safe for swimming. Go ahead. Make a run for it," he said.

  She dropped her towel and took off running, her long legs flying as she loped toward the water. As she ran, she left her cares behind, feeling like a teenager without a care in the world.

  He laughed, left his towel with hers, and took off after her, catching up when she was waist-deep, then moved past her a few feet before sliding into the water and disappearing beneath the surface.

  "You are one beautiful man," Gracie muttered, and waited for him to surface before going in farther.

  He popped up a few yards away, shaking water out of his hair, and wiped his hands across his face, then waved her out.

  She slid into the water with barely a ripple and swam toward him, straight into his waiting arms.

  "You swim like a fish, barely disrupting the water. How do you do that?" John asked.

  "Long body, long legs and arms. Not a lot of flopping and splashing, I guess."

  After that, they swam, and floated, and talked and swam some more. When they finally got tired, they walked out of the water and back up the beach, spread out their towels, then knelt.

  The hot sand all around them was calling Gracie's name. She leaned forward, smoothed out a space above the top of her towel, and then wrote, "I, Gracie, am here."

  John watched the whole ritual, smiling to himself, and when she had finished, he smoothed out the sand at the top of his towel and wrote, "John sees you."

  Gracie watched. With every word, with every action, she kept letting John Gatlin a little farther into her world, anchoring her ever deeper into this place. Satisfied that she'd left her mark, however fleeting, she went belly down on the towel.

  John stretched out face up on the towel beside her, and as soon as he was sure she was okay, he relaxed.

  Kids played nearby. Gracie could hear their squeals and laughter. The sun warmed her back and dried the suit on her body. John was so close she could hear him breathing, and she felt safe, and closed her eyes.

  John watched her, thinking what it would be like to wake up beside her every morning. Wondering, as Gracie had, what magic in the Universe had thrown them together, grateful as hell that it happened.

  A yellow beach ball came flying through the air, straight toward Gracie's head. Reacting on instinct, John slapped it away just before it hit her, and then sat up to look around for the owner. It didn't take long to see a woman and two little girls running their way.

  "We're so sorry," the woman said. "Girls, apologize please."

  Gracie raised up on one elbow and looked over her shoulder.

  "What's going on?"

  "Just a runaway beach ball. All is well," John said.

  "We're sorry," the girls said in unison, and then one of them moved closer to Gracie. Before her mother could stop her, she touched Gracie's scars.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  Gracie sat up. "I had an accident. What's your name?"

  "Bronwyn. My sister's name is Bridgette. We're twins."

  Gracie smiled. "I'm Gracie. It must be awesome to have a twin."

  The mother was embarrassed. "Girls, get your ball and let's go. We're bothering."

  But the twins were too fascinated by the scars on Gracie's chest and back to pay attention.

  "Do they hurt?" Bronwyn asked.

  "Not anymore," Gracie said.

  "I'm not a very good kicker. We didn't mean for the ball to come toward you," Bridgette added.

  "It wouldn't have hurt even if it had hit me. But it appears John saved me," Gracie said.

  "Do you have to put medicine on them?" Bronwyn asked.

  "I did when it happened, but not now."

  The little girl jumped up and ran to her mother, dug through the beach bag she was carrying, and then came back with something clutched in her hand. She handed one to Bridgette and kept one.

  "Mom puts thes
e on us when we get hurt. They have medicine on them. It will make your booboos well, too."

  And without hesitation, both girls peeled the wrapping off their Band-Aids, picked out a scar apiece, and gently stuck them on.

  "There!" they said in unison.

  "Thank you, so much," Gracie said. "I'm sure I'll be good as new in no time."

  Satisfied with their good deed, the girls ran to get their ball.

  Their mother smiled sheepishly at Gracie and quickly herded them away.

  John leaned over and kissed Gracie square on the lips.

  "What was that for?" Gracie asked.

  "For being you," he said. "Let's go get our picnic stuff. I'm getting hungry."

  They grabbed their towels and headed for the parking lot. John put his t-shirt on, and Gracie was reaching for hers when John stopped her.

  "Want me to take the Band-Aids off?"

  Gracie shook her head. "No. They're still full of love and good intentions."

  "Just like you," John said, then got the ice chest, locked the car, and led the way to some shaded picnic tables.

  Gracie sat on the bench as John began sorting out the food.

  "Two kinds of cold sandwiches from Subway. Chips. Cookies. And cans of pop," he said.

  Gracie popped the tab on a can of Coke and took a quick sip. Being happy was presenting problems she hadn't expected. Tears were always on the verge of erupting, and today was no different. The emotional shift from utter despair to pure joy had yet to settle.

  "Thank you. This is so fun...and such a drastic shift from what my life was. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll wake up and this will have all been a dream."

  John leaned over and kissed her again, this time with feeling. Her lips were cold, and they tasted slightly of Coke.

  "Is that real enough for you?" he asked.

  Gracie sighed. "Yes, and thank you," then reached for a sandwich and a bag of chips.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sky started getting cloudy as they cleaned up from their meal.

  "Looks like our day at the beach is going to be cut short," John said.