by Robin Roseau
She laughed. “Did I wear you out?”
“I’m happy to be off my feet.”
“Don’t get too accustomed,” she said. “Teigan Dove, are you staying at a hotel or something?”
I paused before answering, then I decided to keep it light. “Ready to toss me out?”
“Don’t joke.”
“What are you really asking, Grace?”
“I’m asking where we need to go to collect your clothing.”
“Oh,” I said. “It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
“So demanding.”
“Teigan Dove,” she said. “You can’t wear the same clothes day after day.”
“In a hurry to get your undies back?”
“Why are you avoiding what should be a very simple question?”
“I’m homeless.”
“Teigan Dove, I don’t really understand.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m not ready to explain.”
“Well, you’ve said this is only for a while,” she said. “I forbid you from leaving until you’ve explained everything.”
I laughed. “I’ll try, Grace.”
“You need more clothing,” she said. “So we should go get you some.”
“I don’t think I have any money.”
“Which you’re also going to explain to me, Special Agent Teigan who hasn’t told me her last name. I can afford to buy you a couple of changes of clothing.”
I was touched, and I didn’t even try to turn her down. Instead I said simply, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s have a bite, and we’ll go to Target.”
“Grace,” I said. “You might need to treat me a little like I’ve been living on a desert island for 25 years.”
“I can do that,” she said.
We ate. We cleaned up. And then, without a word, I retrieved my gun. Grace didn’t ask me to leave it behind, but she closed the distance and patted the outside of my jacket. “Do you have a permit to carry that?”
“From the highest authority,” I replied.
“All right, then. Show it to me.”
I nodded and withdrew it. I ejected the clip and the round, then handed the gun to her. She took it clumsily but sighted down the barrel. “Police issue?”
“My personal weapon,” I replied.
“It’s plastic.”
“Some sort of polymer,” I said. “It’s more durable than steel.”
“I’ve never held a gun before,” Grace observed. “Teigan Dove, have you ever shot it?”
“At the range, but thankfully never at a person.” I took it back from her, slid the magazine into the handle, and worked the slide before replacing it in my holster. She watched all this carefully. “Am I scaring you, Grace?”
“How can you even carry that?”
“Doesn’t the Archangel Michael carry a sword? Is this any different?”
“So you are an angel?”
“Grace,” I said, somewhat reprovingly.
“If you’re not, tell me you’re not.”
“I told you: I don’t know what I am anymore.”
“You’re not human.”
“I think I am,” I countered. “But not entirely. There’s a touch of…”
“God.”
“Not the Christian god.”
“There are others?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think there are others,” I said. “Grace, I’m not sure I’m entirely sane.”
“You seem sane to me.”
“I don’t think I’ve been sane for a very long time, Grace.”
“Well, I’m not going to ask you to give up your gun,” she said. “We’re leaving hallowed ground.”
“I think you’re the crazy one to trust me.”
“Let’s go.”
There was a garage and a car. I moved to the passenger side then didn’t know how to open the door. Finally, the window rolled down and Grace leaned over, looking up at me. “Afraid to get in?”
“Do you remember when I said you might have to treat me like I’ve been on a desert island for 25 years?”
“Yes?”
“I was speaking somewhat literally. I don’t know how to open the door. There’s no handle, and I didn’t see what you did.”
She said nothing for a moment. But then she pressed a button on her side, and the door popped open. I climbed in, and the door closed automatically. “I’ll show you later,” she said gently. “Teigan Dove, are you playing a game with me?”
“No. If you don’t trust me, I understand.”
“You’re not getting out of this car that easily,” she said firmly. “Ha. I bet you don’t know how to open it from this side, either. You’re my prisoner until I let you out.”
“I’d rather you didn’t call me that,” I said. “I am your guest.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Is that part of your story?”
“Yes.”
“The one you’re not ready to tell me.”
“I’m not sure any of it is real.”
She took my hand. “I’ll take care of you, Teigan Dove.”
“That’s what you do, isn’t it? You take care of everyone around you.”
“Yep. Another of my things.”
I didn’t say anything else until we were on the road. And then it was a whisper. “Thank you.”
* * * *
We arrived at Target. It didn’t really look dramatically different. The car did most of the driving, and the computer interface for directing it was far, far better than anything I’d ever seen. I stared at it, but said nothing.
The car even parked for us, and then Grace said, “Look here.” She waved her left hand. Then I watched how she set it on the door, and after a brief pause, the door opened automatically. I did the same thing on my side, and the door opened.
“That seems dangerous.”
“It won’t open if the car isn’t parked,” she said. “Although there’s an override.”
I nodded, and we climbed out. Her door closed, and she came around to my side and showed me how to make my side close. Then she took my hand, and we headed to the store.
It looked like a Target, although we didn’t go near the electronics department. I knew I wouldn’t recognize anything. Instead, we headed for women’s casual wear, pushing a cart together. “Teigan, do you need professional wear?”
“No,” I said. “If I do, I can wear this. How about at church.”
“We can be very casual,” she replied. “You’ve stated this is just for a while. Does that mean three days or longer?”
“I don’t know, Grace.”
“Let’s get you started,” she said.
We picked out undies, socks, and two more bras. Two blouses, a pair of jeans, and then she said, “Those are your only shoes, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
We added a pair of tennis shoes. I looked at the growing pile and then set my hand on hers. “Grace.”
She looked at me and nodded. She gestured, and we headed for checkout.
Back at her car, I set my hand where she showed me. The door gently opened. I sat down then stared straight ahead. Grace climbed in, started the car, and then said, “Teigan Dove, it’s going to be all right.” I turned to look at her. “I promise,” she added.
“How can you believe me?” I asked. “I’m a crazy woman.”
“I think you’re a lost woman,” she said.
“I told you I was born in 1980,” I said. “How old do I look?”
“You’ve had better treatment than I have.”
I snorted a laugh. “I suppose I have.”
“How did you pay for it?”
“With my soul,” I replied.
She paused then said, “It’s part of your story, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.”
“I won’t push until you’re
ready to tell me,” she said. “But please, Teigan Dove. Please don’t run away.”
“I won’t run away, unless it’s to protect you.”
“From yourself?”
“Hopefully I don’t have to worry about that.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“Only you.”
She smiled. “Good.” And she commanded the car to take us home.
Labor of Love
She made room for my few clothes, and then we turned to each other. Grace lifted her hand to my cheek. I stepped closer, and then her fingers descended to the buttons of the blouse. Before she could get far, I pulled her to me and buried my face against her neck, inhaling deeply. She wrapped her arms around me. I held her tightly.
“Are you saying ‘no’?”
“I’m saying ‘thank you’, and ‘I want you’.”
She laughed. “Good.” She pushed me away from her and went back to work on my buttons. It was my turn to laugh, and then we took turns undressing the other. Soon, we stood before each other, touching lightly, moving closer, caressing, kissing, and more touching.
“Come to bed with me.”
“Yes.”
We made long, slow, gentle love, taking turns again. I showed her a few more things she didn’t know, things Evaline had taught me. I laughed once, then refused to explain.
Eventually we cuddled together, me on my back, her on her side, tucked under my arm with my shoulder as a pillow. Her hand cupped my breast, and my hand cupped hers, letting her know I was perfectly happy with her hand where it was. “Grace,” I whispered. “I’m so confused.”
“I know.”
“Why did you take me in?”
“Clearly for the mind-blowing sex.”
I laughed. “Seriously.”
“You looked so haunted when you stepped inside, and so beautiful by the time you stood at the sanctuary. I came over to see who you were. And then…” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It’s a little crazy.”
“Now we’re both crazy?”
“Maybe we are. Grace, you must have a real answer.”
“Teigan Dove,” she said. “Maybe it’s as simple as lust.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Maybe it started with lust.”
I laughed again. “I might believe that.”
“I’ll point out: you stayed. And it’s not like I had to work very hard to get you into my bed.”
“I suppose you didn’t.”
“You’re not a drug addict.”
“No.”
“You’re not a cop, though.”
“I have a badge and an identification with my name, and it says ‘Special Agent’ on it. I used to be a cop.”
“Where?”
“Here. Minneapolis.”
“You have a gun and a badge, but nothing else.”
“I think I’m supposed to rely on the kindness of strangers.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Maybe so. Teigan Dove, lust was involved. But something said you needed me. Not just someone. Something told me that you needed me, and I think I need you, too, but I don’t know why.”
“Everyone needs good sex from time to time.”
“I’m fairly certain it’s for other reasons.” She leaned up and kissed my cheek. “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“Is that the day of worship in your church?”
“Teigan Dove, every day is a day of worship. But Saturday is care day.”
“Care day?”
“We care for the church. I’m going to work you.”
“Good,” I said.
“Are you handy?”
“I used to be.”
“Good.”
We lay quietly for several minutes until she asked quietly, “Teigan Dove?”
“Grace?”
“You will tell me, right?”
“If I can,” I said. “Grace.”
“You are welcome here as long as you need.”
“We don’t know how long that might be, and I’m not necessarily easy to live with.”
“If that turns into a problem, we’ll talk,” she said. “I’m asking for a few promises. You don’t disappear.”
“I can’t promise, Grace.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I owe you answers.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You may not want me when you hear everything. You probably won’t believe me, either.”
“We’ve already determined you can’t lie to me.”
“No. We’ve determined I’m doing a good job convincing you I can’t lie.”
“We’re sticking to my version.”
“I won’t lie,” I said.
“Good.”
“Grace, this isn’t forever.”
“You keep saying that.” She paused. “I think it’s for a while, but not a very long while.”
“A while,” I agreed. “Work me hard tomorrow.”
“Have faith in me.”
* * * *
There was another prayer breakfast. Sue Ellen and Lisa Jean were both there, and it seemed better attended than yesterday’s. As soon as the girls saw us, they ran over and gave Grace and me both hugs, and then Lisa Jean asked if they could help again.
“Of course,” she said. “Take Teigan Dove with you.”
The two latched onto my arms, and together we headed for the kitchen. We had things well in hand before Grace arrived with two more helpers, and together we put on a feast for the guests.
When I got a moment, I stepped to Grace’s side. “How does the church pay for this? Do you do it every morning?”
“Every morning, even Sunday,” she said. “Those who can leave an offering. But we have a benefactor, and this was one of the things she told us to do.”
“That is very generous.”
“I agree,” she said. “If you’re not careful, Sue Ellen is going to take your job from you.”
I laughed and returned to the griddle.
We had a lovely breakfast and a lovely prayer. Grace worked the room after that. I helped clean up, and it was twenty minutes later when Grace stepped to my side. “You come well-trained.”
“Woof.”
She smiled. “Come on.” She took my hand, and together we headed upstairs.
I wasn’t her only assistant. Sue Ellen and Lisa Jean ran over. We smiled at them. “Are you two staying to help?” Grace asked.
They nodded. “Can we help plant the flowers? Mr. Garner will be in later, right?”
“He will,” Grace said. She turned to me. “Do you think you can run the lawn mower?”
“If you show it to me.”
“I can,” Sue Ellen said. “Come on, Teigan Dove.”
* * * *
I collapsed with a glass of lemonade. Grace smiled at me then sat down in the grass with me. She had her own lemonade. We each drank and then I said, “Do you have tools?”
“We have an entire wood shop,” she said. “What sort of tool do you need?”
“The garage door is sticking,” I said. “If you have a plane, I can fix it.”
“I’ll show you.”
“Why do you have a wood shop?”
“It was a donation,” she said.
“From your benefactor?”
“A different benefactor,” she said. “We hold afternoon woodworking classes for the kids. You may have heard the girls mention Mr. Garner.”
“Ah.”
“He’s a retired carpenter.”
“Sue Ellen and Lisa Jean seem especially devout.”
“They’re good girls. They both are children of single mothers. They wouldn’t have been here yesterday, but there was a maintenance emergency at the school, and they cancelled classes until Monday.”
“Maintenance emergency?”
“Failing infrastructure,” she said.
“Some things never change,” I said.
We chatted while we finished our lemonade. Then we cli
mbed to our feet. Grace hooked her arm in mine. We dropped our lemonade glasses off, and she tugged me into the church and back to the basement. Instead of heading to the large meeting room we’d used for prayer breakfasts, we turned the opposite way. There was a double door at the end of the hall, and inside a wood shop as nice as any I’d ever seen.
I stared for a minute. Then Grace gestured. “The hand tools are here. I don’t even know what a plane is, though, and I have no idea if we have one.” But she led me to a small but complete equipment room. It took only a moment to identify the planes, each sitting on a little shelf against the wall. I took one down and stared at it. “I used to have one just like this.”
“What does it do?”
I showed it to Grace. She smiled and thanked me for the lesson. I grabbed a hammer and screw driver, then Grace led me from the room. “I’ll put everything back when I’m done.”
Upstairs, she went one way; I went the other. And then I spent the next hour working on the door, trying to get it just right. I was a lot happier when it was done.
I went to find Grace. I saw through the glass beside her office door, talking to a young couple, so I left her alone and headed for the wood shop to return my tools.
Mr. Garner was there along with eight or nine kids. No one paid any attention to me as I put the tools away, but when I turned around, the elderly carpenter was there, holding out his hand. “Mr. Garner.”
“Teigan,” I said. I gestured. “What are the kids working on?”
“They decide their own projects. Do you know anything about woodworking, Teigan?”
“I know a thing or two,” I said. “A friend and I took lessons, a long time ago.”
He gestured at the planes. “I saw you working on the door. I’ve been meaning to do something about that.” But he held up his hands. They were deeply gnarled with arthritis.
“I tell you what,” I offered. “If there are other jobs like that, you tell me, and I’ll take care of them.”
“Stick around?” he suggested with a gesture. “Maybe you’d like to make something.”
“Not today,” I said. “But will the kids mind if I see what they’re doing?”
“Naw,” he said. “Go ahead. But you’re welcome any time, Teigan.” Just then, one of the boys called his name. He turned one direction. I turned the other and wandered the room for a while. Some of the kids were engaged in obvious projects: they were making bird houses. One little girl was with someone I presumed was her older brother, and she was carefully painting daisies on her birdhouse. I watched for a minute. When the boy looked over at me, I smiled and gave him a thumb’s up. He nodded before returning his attention to his sister.
