I, Gracie

by Sharon Sala

  Darlene let out a wail. "Oh my God...I knew it! I just knew it! What happened? Are you okay?"

  Gracie sat down in the chair and started talking, relating the whole story from beginning to end. And by the time she was finished, she was in tears.

  "It was kinda like back when Mama stabbed me. I thought I was going to die, and then I didn't."

  Darlene was bawling. "I'm so sorry. Do you need me? I can leave the kids with my parents and come stay with you. Are you still in the hospital?"

  "No, I don't need you, honey, but thanks. I have John. And I'm going home today. I'll stay at my apartment. It wasn't in the area that got hit. It still has power, and John will be in the city all day every day helping with clean-up. He'll always be available if I need him. He said my landlady has offered to help me during the day, and I'll be with him at night. So, I'm all set."

  "Oh my God. Just, oh, my, God," Darlene muttered. "Okay...but you have to promise that if you need me for anything, anything at all, you'll let me know."

  "I will," Gracie said.

  "I love you, sugar. And I'm so glad you're going to be okay. Rest and know that you are loved."

  "Love you, too," Gracie said, and then disconnected.

  She was wiping away tears when John walked in.

  He frowned at the tears, as he popped the tab on her Coke and handed it to her.

  "Thank you, honey," she said, and took a sip. "Mmm... Just what the doctor ordered. You are a good man."

  John grinned. "That's me, Doctor Johnny Be Good."

  "I know that song! Johnny Be Good! It's an old Chuck Berry song! Daddy loved music, and the classics even more. He had a beat-up old guitar and played music and sang to Mama all the time." Then her voice softened. "She loved it when Daddy sang."

  John sat down beside her.

  "That's a great memory, darlin'."

  She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder.

  "I know. We made lots of good memories before he died, and Mama went crazy. I'm going to have to remember them more."

  "We can make us some good memories, too," John said. "But after you lose your raccoon eyes and the staples in your head."

  Gracie blinked, burst out laughing, then punched him on the leg.

  "Oh, shit. You made me laugh. It hurts to laugh," but she was still smiling.

  John sighed. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more, she proved him wrong. Growing old with her was going to be a blast.

  The next three days were a blur.

  John got Gracie's car to a body shop to have the hail damage repaired.

  Donna and the girls sent her flowers—a dozen yellow roses for the girl from Texas. And the next afternoon, a big bouquet of flowers was delivered to her from Edward Rollins, the man she'd saved from choking.

  Gracie didn't know there had been video of the rescuers bringing her out of the Wisteria Inn on the news, but he'd seen it and wanted her to know she was in his prayers.

  The third day, Donna came by after work with a pie from her favorite bakery. She kept telling Gracie how sorry she was, not to worry about anything but getting well, and that her job would be there for her when she felt like coming back.

  John and his crews worked from sunup to quit, just cleaning up storm debris.

  Gracie slept, and rested, and Lucy fed her, entertaining her with an ongoing jigsaw puzzle and many hands of Blackjack while they drank endless glasses of sweet tea and Coke and told stories. Lucy talked about her men who'd gotten away, and the ones she'd dumped. To Gracie's delight, Lucy laughed when she admitted to regretting none of it.

  John brought them lunch every day and stayed long enough to realize he never wanted to play Poker against Gracie. Her laughter was easy. She was healing from the storm, but she was also healing from what had come before.

  He took her home with him every night and held her when the dreams turned bad. She talked in her sleep, revealing way more than she'd told him awake. Crying because they were hungry or cold, or hungry and hot. Crying when the last of the cattle were gone. Crying when her mama didn't remember her anymore. Crying because her siblings had abandoned them.

  He was falling deeper in love, and at the same time, realizing how broken she was. The greatest gift he could give her now was time.

  On the seventh morning after the storm, John brought Gracie back into Branson and settled her into her apartment for the day.

  Gracie was feeling more confident about being alone, but he and Lucy weren't. They hadn't given her a choice. Not until she could at least stand up straight and walk without groaning.

  John was just getting ready to leave, and Lucy had yet to arrive. Gracie got her morning Coke out of the refrigerator and he waited for her to settle.

  "Gracie, honey, do you need anything before I leave?" John asked.

  She paused. "My goodbye kiss."

  John grinned. "You were going to get that, anyway," he said, and gently cupped her cheeks before brushing a soft kiss across her mouth.

  Gracie sighed as he let her go. "That was exactly what the doctor ordered."

  "I can do better when your bruises are gone," John said, and then there was a knock at the door.

  "That must be Lucy," Gracie said. "Would you let her in?"

  John strode to the door and swung it inward, but it wasn't Lucy. It was a man from FedEx.

  "Special Delivery for Gracie Jean Dunham."

  "She's here. I'll take it," John said.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but she has to sign for it."

  "Oh, sure. Hey Gracie, can you come here a sec?"

  Gracie came out of the kitchen, a little bent over and walking slow. The messenger's eyes widened when he saw the bruises and the way she was walking.

  "I'm so sorry, Miss. I could have come to you if—"

  "It's okay," Gracie said. "Just went ten rounds with a tornado, but I'm still standing."

  "Jesus! Oh wow. Uh..." Then he held out his delivery scanner and a stylus to sign the screen. "Sign here."

  So she did.

  He handed her the envelope, gave her one last horrified glance, and took off down the stairs.

  Gracie carried it to the sofa to open, pulled out some papers, then frowned.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't know... It's from a lawyer."

  "Just read it aloud, and then we'll both know," John said.

  And so she did.

  * * *

  Dear Miss Dunham,

  The attached letter is from your brother, James. He has instructed me to deliver this news, and the accompanying letter.

  As of 8:00 this morning, the sum of $1,550,000 has been deposited into a checking account in your name, at First National Bank in Branson, Missouri.

  It is the proceeds of the sale of a home, outbuildings, and five hundred acres outside of Sweetwater, Texas. (See attached paperwork for the plat map marking the land that has been sold and the price per acre.)

  Gracie stopped reading. She was shaking so hard she couldn't breathe.

  "Take a breath and read the rest," John said.

  There are no taxes due on these monies. It is yours, free and clear. Your bank has already been apprised and assisted in this transfer, and while it is presently in a separate account, it is now yours to do with as you wish.

  My sympathies on the loss of your mother.

  Roger Dean, Esquire

  Dean, Dean, and Marshall, Attorneys at Law.

  Gracie laid the cover letter aside, and then recognized James's handwriting on the letter beneath.

  "This is from James. I don't think I can read it," she said, and burst into tears.

  John took it from her, tucked her close against him, and read aloud.

  * * *

  Gracie,

  Nobody deserves this but you.

  Daddy haunts me every night for what I did to you and Mama. It doesn't belong to me. I don't want it.

  Daphne won't take it. She says it's blood money, and she will not profit from a sin.

  Mam
ie and Joel have rejected it. They will not take from you since they basically left you and Mama to die.

  It's yours by birth. It's yours by right.

  You were still there when we all left home.

  You were always with Mama then.

  And you stayed with Mama after...when the rest of us betrayed you.

  Please don't reject this because of us.

  Accept it because you are the Dunham who deserved it.

  Accept it in Mama and Daddy's name.

  You kept the dream of who we were alive, even as Mama lay dying.

  If I could change what was done, I would. But I cannot. I will not ask for forgiveness. I gain no respect for myself by doing this. Only the hope that in meting out this long-delayed justice, I will finally get a measure of peace.

  —James

  John laid the letter aside and then pulled her up into his lap, holding her as she shook, choking on harsh, ugly sobs. Even reading between the lines, the devastation done to her and by the people who were supposed to love her, was clear. He would have borne the pain for her if he could. All he could do was hold her and love her.

  "That's it, darlin'. Let it go. Let it go," he said.

  And so she did.

  Nine years of fear, and pain, and grief came up—spilling over—pouring out. The letter hurt her heart; for all they'd been, and for all they'd lost. It had stripped her raw, in a frightening, soul-shattering way she had not seen coming, and she didn't know how to breathe without coming apart. Then John's voice had pulled her in, and she'd cried herself out in his arms.

  When she could breathe again without wanting to scream, she went still. She could feel John's heartbeat beneath her hand. He was the faithful man. He was the loving man. Him she could trust forever.

  She sighed.

  "It's not enough that I have raccoon eyes, but now I've just about cried them shut."

  "Hush your bad self," he said. "Don't say mean things about my girl."

  "After all of this ugly family stuff, are you sure you still want me?"

  He heard the uncertainty in her voice, and sighed. It was time for a little confession of his own.

  "The day of the tornado, I was so scared I'd lost you that I couldn't see a tomorrow without you. And after we found you, I was so overwhelmed you were alive, that I went home and cried myself sick. So, yes I still want you."

  Silence.

  "You did?"

  He sighed. "Yes, and if you tell anyone, I'll swear you lied."

  "Tell what?" she said.

  He grinned. "That's my girl."

  "I guess I should get up and let you go to work," Gracie said.

  "I guess... But can I ask you something first?"

  She nodded.

  "Now that you know how your brother and sisters feel about what they did, and that they wanted you to have the money, does that change how you feel about them?"

  Her answer was swift and terse.

  "Money doesn't make a sin go away. Money doesn't change a betrayal. And that money didn't come from them. It came from Mama and Daddy. So, I receive it in their honor. Not as hush money to make what my siblings did to me and Mama go away. I feel nothing for them."

  John hugged her.

  "Guts and brains. God, how I love you, girl. I wish I could stay, but I better get to work."

  She got out of his lap, and followed him to the door, then hugged him again.

  "I love you, Johnny."

  "I love you more."

  And then he was gone.

  Ten days after the tornado, Gracie took herself to the doctor and got her staples out, and then she stopped by the Majestic. Within seconds of walking in the front door, she was mobbed.

  "You look great!" Reba said.

  "Seriously? I have green circles beneath my eyes," Gracie said.

  It made them laugh.

  "Were you out shopping?" Donna asked.

  "Nope. Making sure my brains were all tucked back in my head before they pulled out the staples."

  They laughed again.

  "When can you come back to work?" Donna asked.

  "I can't lift or reach over my head yet. My ribs aren't fully healed. But I can sit on my butt and put flowers in a vase all day."

  Donna cheered. "How about tomorrow from open to noon for the rest of the week? Just to ease yourself back into the routine. I don't want you overdoing anything. If that doesn't stress you in any way, then you can go back to your regular schedule."

  "I would love that," Gracie said. "I am going stir crazy."

  "Then we'll see you tomorrow!" Donna said. "Welcome back."

  "Tomorrow," Gracie said, and left feeling better than she had in days.

  Five people had died the day of the storm. Twenty-two were severely injured. All but four had been released from the hospital. Gracie was one of the lucky ones, and she knew it.

  When she got in the car to go home, she ran her fingers gingerly along the tender, still healing gash on her head, grateful that the staples were gone.

  She could almost hear her Mama's voice. One step, one day at a time, baby girl.

  She glanced up at the empty passenger seat, half-expecting to see Delia riding shotgun.

  "I know, Mama. I'm just takin' care of business."

  It was like the first day of school.

  Everything was an unknown.

  Gracie had stayed by herself last night because she felt like a fake expecting John to take care of her now when she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself again.

  She didn't really want to give up the nights at his home, but he'd offered her shelter because she was hurt, and now she wasn't. She was a Dunham, and Dunham women knew how to take care of themselves. She and John were still falling in love, but that didn't mean they were at the moving in together stage. She knew she was going to miss him, and she did.

  The whole evening was both lonesome and eerie. After it got dark, she found herself jumping at every little sound, then thought she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. But every time she looked out, it was peaceful and quiet.

  Then John called her, and everything was right in her world.

  "Hey darlin'. I sure do miss you. Are you okay?"

  Gracie slid into bed and pulled the covers up to her waist.

  "I'm fine. I miss you, too...terribly."

  "We can fix that," John said. "All you have to do is say the word."

  "I know. But I don't want to come to you still broken inside. I want all of me to be present with you."

  "I know. It's why I don't push," John said. "Are you looking forward to going back to the Majestic tomorrow?"

  "Yes. I love the girls, and I love the work."

  "Just half a day, though. Ease yourself back into the routine."

  "I will. I'll pick something up for lunch on the way home, and then rest after I eat."

  "Get enough for me, and I'll come tuck you in before I go back to work."

  "Really?" Gracie said.

  He chuckled. "Yes, really. I can stay long enough to eat and steal a kiss, and that's about it."

  "Deal," Gracie said. "See you tomorrow."

  "Sleep well, sugar. Love you."

  "Love you most," she said, and hung up.

  After that, the night sounds were just that—nothing scary, nothing ominous. Just the old garage settling, and a tired, wounded city trying to put itself to sleep.

  For Gracie, going back to work felt like turning off a switch to being a victim. This was the second time in her life she'd cheated death, and she was getting the hang of it.

  Within the week, September was over. She had dates with John that ended in her bed, and on Sundays, he took her out of town to his home and made love with her in his.

  The trees were turning, the days were getting colder, and their walks along the lake got shorter. John made her laugh and feel beautiful, and she ached for him in the way a woman wants her man. When they made love, it wasn't just passion. It was healing her.

  She knew John u
nderstood. She never saw impatience in his expression. Only the love, plainly visible in his eyes. He wouldn't ask. He wouldn't push. He'd already made the offer. It was up to her to say when, and so October came and went.

  Then one Tuesday evening in early November, Gracie was sitting in the living room, watching the flames dancing in the fireplace, staring at a glass half-full of Coke and an uneaten cookie, when she decided she was tired of being independent. She missed John. She missed his voice. And she thought... Why? Why am I punishing myself with his absence? Because that's all this is. I don't deserve to be punished, and neither does he.

  Even though it was already dark, she picked up the phone and called him. When he answered, he sounded tired.

  "Hello, my love. What's going on in your world?"

  "Nothing, and that's why I called. Remember when you said all I had to do was say the word, and this business of your place and my place would end?"

  There was a brief moment of silence, and then he answered. "Yes, I remember."

  "Then... Word! I am officially over myself and missing you something awful. What can we do to rectify this situation?"

  He laughed, and the feeling that went through her was one of heat and want.

  "Can this wait until tomorrow? I have a slow leak in a tire. I don't want to take off after you in the dark and then have to change a flat."

  "Yes, of course it will wait. I just...I just wanted to see if the offer was still open, I guess."

  "Well, it is, and you've just made me a very happy man. Is Lucy going to be okay with this?"

  "Yes. She told me months ago that she'd let me out of my lease if the need arose."

  "Can you ask off work at noon?" John asked.

  "Yes."

  "Then I'll see you at your place tomorrow and help you pack. I won't be able to sleep now for the excitement of knowing this is actually happening."

  Gracie sighed. "Me either. Love you, Johnny."

  And this time, it was John who had the last word.

  "Love you more."

  When Gracie called Lucy the next morning to tell her, Lucy laughed.

  "I knew this day was coming. It's about time, girl, and I'm so happy for the both of you. I'll get the utilities switched back into my name and have them send you a final bill. I have John's address. Is that the one you want to use?"