by Beth Wiseman
Grace sat down on her bed, and Skylar sat down beside her. Grace noticed light roots in Skylar’s jet-black hair. She wondered what Skylar would look like with her natural hair color and without the dark makeup and black clothes.
“So I just wanted to see what’s up.” Skylar shrugged, and Grace fought the tears threatening to spill.
“I—I . . .” Grace blinked a few times. “Why are you here, Skylar? I mean, I wasn’t exactly nice to you before school let out.”
Skylar grinned. “I didn’t notice.”
They were quiet for a few moments, then Skylar spoke up again. “I was just kinda worried about you.”
All of Grace’s defenses kicked in. “Why? I’m fine.” She got up from the bed, walked over to her dresser, and stacked some books in a pile. “I’ve been reading a lot.” She shrugged, straightening the books. “It’s not like you can find a job around here.”
“Tell me about it. I applied everywhere I could think of, but in these small towns, there isn’t much need for summer help. And it’s not like my truck could take a lot of extra driving to another town.”
“I’ve only been able to get some babysitting jobs, but at least it’s something.”
“So . . . how long have you been cutting again?”
Grace spun around. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”
“How long?”
“So you just came over here to grill me about it? I should have never told you in the first place.”
“Then why did you?”
Grace grunted. “Because you figured it out.”
Skylar lowered her head, frowning.
“Don’t look so bummed. After my parents found out, I swore it off for good. So if you came over here just to talk about that, then—”
“Your parents found out?” Skylar lifted her head and locked eyes with Grace. “What happened?”
This was the last thing Grace wanted to talk about, but maybe she could have some closure with Skylar on the subject if she just spilled everything. She told her the entire story, and Skylar listened without saying anything.
“So anyway, my dad is taking my mom to dinner tonight, and he said he would try to talk her out of taking me to a shrink.”
“Maybe a shrink wouldn’t be so bad.”
Grace slapped her hands to her hips. “You quit on your own. So can I.”
Skylar shrugged. “Okay. But not everyone can.”
Grace walked back over to her pile of books, straightened them again. How presumptuous of Skylar to think she was better than Grace. “I can do it on my own too, and I don’t need to tell my feelings to some doctor while lying on a couch.”
“Well, I had a reason to stop.”
Grace folded her arms across her chest. “Oh really? So what was the reason?”
Skylar took a deep breath and avoided Grace’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”
“I’ve got time.” Grace’s words were choppy and unsympathetic as she sat down on the bed.
Skylar slapped her hands to her knees, then stood up. “You know what? I have to go pick up some medicine for my dad. Wanna ride along?”
Clearly Skylar wasn’t going to share any details at the moment, and Grace realized that she didn’t know much about Skylar’s life, except that she lived alone with her father. “Is he sick?”
“Yeah, kind of.” Skylar walked toward the door. “It sure is hot to drive to La Grange to pick up his medicine.” She turned around and faced Grace, an exaggerated pout on her face.
Grace knew Skylar didn’t have any air-conditioning in that beat-up truck she drove.
“I’ll take you.” Grace found her purse, dug for her keys. “But can we just talk about something else?”
“Sure.”
Skylar followed Grace down the stairs.
Darlene ordered the small T-bone steak, a baked potato, and a salad. Brad ordered the same, but got the larger version. It was a much-needed, relaxing break. Until Brad got around to a conversation he’d evidently wanted to have the entire time.
“Grace really doesn’t want to go see the counselor. She wanted me to talk to you.” Brad sipped on a cup of coffee, keeping his eyes on her above the rim.
“Well, she’s going.”
He put his cup down, shook his head. “So she’s going, and that’s it? I don’t have a say and neither does Grace?”
“Why are you ruining this night?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to talk to you, Dar, but when it comes to Grace, it’s your way or no one’s. I’m not sure she needs counseling.”
Darlene stared at him for a few moments. “My way or no one’s? Really, Brad? Because I don’t see it that way at all.” She and Brad never used to talk to each other with such sarcasm and flat-out ugliness. She tried to keep things in perspective, knowing they were both worried about Grace. “Something caused Grace to cut herself like that. More than once.” She glanced around, lowered her voice to a whisper. “Our beautiful daughter has cuts on her arms and legs that might leave scars for the rest of her life. Do you want her to keep doing that?”
“Of course not. But I don’t want to push her over the edge either. She is terrified and stressed about that appointment on Tuesday. I’m just saying maybe give her some time. And she doesn’t want people to find out.”
“She doesn’t or you don’t?” It just came out, and even though it was what she was thinking, Darlene wished she hadn’t said it.
Brad stiffened as the lines across his forehead deepened. “Okay, Darlene. I can see that this isn’t even open to discussion. You’ve made up your mind.” Brad pointed a finger at her, and she was tempted to slap it away, but she folded her hands in her lap, not wanting to draw attention to their table. “But if you push Grace over the edge with this appointment, it’s on your conscience. Counseling isn’t for everyone.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You ready to go?”
Without waiting for her to answer, he scooted his chair back and stood up. How dare you. “You know I only want what’s best for Grace,” she whispered from behind him as they walked to the counter to pay. “And I can’t believe you don’t see that she needs some help. Did you see her legs?”
Brad didn’t answer, just paid the bill. Darlene waited until they got to the parking lot before she said anything. “So if Grace goes to the counselor and it doesn’t work, it’s my fault. If she doesn’t go and she hurts herself again, then it’s your fault. Can you live with that?”
He pushed the key remote, pulled open his door, then glared over the roof at her. “Why does it have to be someone’s fault? Why can’t we just work together on this?”
“You already said it’s on my conscience if this pushes her over the edge!” Darlene slapped her hand against the hood. “Ultimately, you want me to make the decisions so it’s not on your conscience. And I know you don’t want anyone around here to find out because you don’t want to be embarrassed.”
“I’m through talking to you about this tonight.” He slammed the door when he got in.
Darlene didn’t want to get in the car, but it was a long walk to the house.
And it turned out to be a silent drive home.
Ten long minutes later, Brad pulled into their driveway. “Where’s Grace?” Darlene jumped out of the car before it even stopped completely and hurried toward the house. After she checked Grace’s room, she opened Chad’s door without knocking.
“Mom! Can’t you knock?” Chad was sitting on his bed, legs crossed beneath him, watching television.
“Where’s Grace?”
“She went somewhere with Skylar.”
“Where?”
Chad hit a button on the remote, pausing whatever he was watching. “Something about getting some medicine for Skylar’s dad in La Grange. She said she’d be back by ten.”
Darlene glanced out the window at the orange hue in the sky, then looked at her watch. It was only seven forty-five. A short dinner with her husband.
“She’s fine, Mom.”
; Darlene glanced around Chad’s room, trying to distract herself from worry about Grace. “This room is a mess.”
“Don’tcha love it?” He snickered.
“No, I don’t,” she said as she backed out. “I’d be scared to sleep in here.”
Darlene went downstairs, heavy steps to match her heart. When did she and Brad start talking to each other like this? When did they start to play on opposite teams? They’d had plenty of fights over the years, but something was different about this one. Possibly fueled by their fears about Grace. Why was there a need to blame someone? They hadn’t treated each other this way when Chad got into trouble in Houston, so why now?
She sat down on the couch. Ansley was out back, probably with her chickens again. No sign of Brad, so she assumed he’d gone upstairs to get ready for bed. She leaned her head back on the couch, fighting tears.
Darlene knew exactly why she was lashing out at Brad. She was angry at herself for not being there for Grace. This was her fault.
Skylar kept her promise during their ride to La Grange and back—no heavy conversation. Instead, they’d talked about places around town to eat, things to do, and then they landed on Skylar’s college plans. Grace felt bad that she hadn’t asked Skylar more about her life, especially since Skylar was always interested in Grace’s life. Grace spun the angel ring on her finger as Skylar talked.
“I had to go to school all last summer and the first part of this summer to be able to graduate after this next year.”
Grace and Skylar were both going to be juniors when school started—or so Grace had thought. “So you’ll really be a senior this year?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you do that? Do you hate school that much?”
Skylar turned to her right and stared out the window of the car. “The sooner I get a degree and a good job, the sooner I can make things better for my dad.”
Grace had assumed Skylar hadn’t been around because Grace had been ugly to her before school was out. Instead, she’d been working hard so she could graduate early. Grace wanted to ask her what the hurry was, but then she thought about the medicine they’d just picked up for her father. She swallowed hard.
“So what college are you going to?” Grace turned when Skylar told her to, the road leading up to a shack far off in the distance. Surely Skylar doesn’t live there.
“I want to go to UT, A&M, or Texas Tech. Ms. Long at school has been helping me apply for scholarships and awards, and I’ve won a few for essays and stuff.” She shrugged. “Ms. Long says my grades are good enough that I should be able to come up with most of the tuition.”
Grace slowed down when her tires hit huge ruts in the dirt road. There was nothing but a forest of trees on either side of them and a dilapidated house in the distance. “Chad will be a senior this year, but then he’s planning to go to UT.” She twisted to face Skylar. “Wow. My grades are pretty good, but I doubt they’re good enough to get awards or scholarships.”
“Your parents can probably pay for you to go wherever you want,” Skylar said matter-of-factly as she stared forward at the house coming into view.
Grace was speechless, and she was struggling not to quiz Skylar about her living arrangements. How could anyone live here? The yard on either side of the grayish-white house looked more like a forest than a yard, with weeds as high as the porch and a worn path leading up to the front door. Paint was chipping, and part of the porch on the left side had fallen in completely. Grace’s house was a mansion compared to this.
“So what’s wrong with your dad?” Grace asked as she put the car in park, hoping she wouldn’t have to get out. Skylar’s house was on the way back from the pharmacy in La Grange, so Skylar asked if they could drop the medicine off before they picked up her truck.
“He’s got bad arthritis. It’s been so bad lately that he hasn’t been able to work much.” Skylar opened the car door but didn’t turn to face Grace. She hung her head for a moment. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”
Grace felt a hollow ache in her stomach, but despite her own reservations, she didn’t want to hurt Skylar’s feelings. She pushed open the car door. “I’d like to meet your dad.”
Skylar’s eyes widened as she smiled. “He loves visitors. It’s hard for him to get out much. Hopefully he won’t talk your ear off.” There was a bounce in her step as they moved toward the rickety porch steps. “I’ll tell him we can’t stay long.” She pointed to their left. “Watch your step.”
It was almost completely dark now, and there was nothing but woods surrounding them. Grace felt like she was in a scary movie. But that all changed the moment she stepped into the small den. A bear of a dog met her in the entryway, wagging his tail, and the air smelled like liver and onions cooking. Grace was the only one in her family who ate liver and onions, so her mother never made them. She’d only had the dish a few times: at a friend’s house, at her grandparents’ house years ago, and at Luby’s restaurant in Houston. There was no mistaking the distinct smell of really strong beef—and sautéed sweet onions.
“Hello, there.” A tall, thin man with hardly any hair grimaced as he stood up from a worn recliner to greet her. He looked much older than Grace’s father. “You must be Grace.” His hand shook as he extended it to her. When Grace gently latched on, he put his other hand on top of hers. “I’m Jack. Welcome to our home. Are you hungry?”
She thought about the casserole her mother had left on the oven. Her parents probably weren’t even home yet, and she’d told Chad she would be home by ten. Plenty of time, and just the thought of liver and onions made her mouth water. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s liver and onions,” Skylar said as she pet the large, shaggy dog. “Most people don’t like it.”
“Oh . . .” Grace ran her tongue along her upper lip. “I love liver and onions.”
“Then you just sit yourself down and I’ll bring you a plate.” On shaky legs, Skylar’s father moved out of the room.
“Daddy, I’ll get it. Sit down.” Skylar turned to the dog. “Enough, Bear. Go lay down.”
Skylar’s father waved her off. “Nah, I’ll get it. Be right back.”
Grace looked around the house as sweat dripped from her forehead. A window air-conditioning unit struggled to cool the small room, and the wooden floors were covered with worn throw rugs. She glanced at the two recliners and the small television with a long antenna, then spied a bookcase on the opposite wall. It was filled with odds and ends, only a few books, and lots of pictures of Skylar. Grace wandered that way.
“Is this your mom?” Grace picked up a picture of a woman holding a baby. She had wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes, and she was wearing a peach-colored dress and white shoes.
Skylar was still trying to get Bear to settle down, but she finally sidled up to Grace. “Yeah. That’s my mom.”
“She’s pretty.” Grace put the picture back, then turned around when Jack walked back into the room. He handed Grace a big plate of liver and onions.
“Thank you.” Her mouth watered as she accepted it, breathing in the wonderful aroma.
“Sit down here and talk to me a spell.” Skylar’s father motioned for Grace to sit in one recliner while he sat in the other. As Skylar left the room, Grace lowered herself into the chair and put her plate on her lap. In between the two recliners was a TV tray covered with a small lamp, lots of pill bottles, a glass of water, and a box of tissues.
Skylar returned with two more plates of food and gave one to her father before sitting on a small couch. Now that everyone had their food, Grace took a bite of the liver and onions, and it was possibly the best she’d ever had. Despite how small their house was, something about it was warm and inviting—even with the loud window unit, the television blaring, and Bear jumping on and off the couch. Skylar gently pulled Bear by his collar until he was lying at her feet on the floor. She rewarded him with a piece of liver.
“Bear thinks he’s one of us.” Skylar smiled, and Grace nodded, her
mouth full of food. She swallowed and took another big bite.
“Jack . . .” She felt funny calling Skylar’s father by his first name. “This is the best liver and onions I’ve ever had.”
“Well, Grace, we’re mighty glad to have you for supper. We don’t get lots of company out here.” Jack shifted his weight, reached for a Kleenex, and blew his nose. “And Skylar has said such nice things about you.”
Grace avoided his eyes, undeserving of the comment. She glanced at Skylar but quickly looked away.
“So how are you likin’ small-town living after living in Houston?” Jack scooped up a piece of liver with his fork.
“I like it.” She pushed her food around on her plate for a few moments. “I mean, it’s different. I guess it’s taken some time to get used to.”
“The country is a good place to grow up. Things are too fast in the city. Everyone’s in a hurry.” Jack shook his head, and Grace thought about the Amish book she’d been reading. Grace was away from city life, kind of like the Amish. Why couldn’t she feel the kind of peace that they had?
Grace polished off the rest of her food.
“Gracious. You do like liver and onions, don’t you?” Jack laughed, then pointed to Skylar. “Go get your friend some more, honey. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t had liver and onions in years.”
“I haven’t.” Grace smiled as she put her plate in Skylar’s outstretched hand. “No one in my family likes it, so my mom doesn’t make it.” She shook her head. “And that’s a shame. Because I love it.”
“Well, I’m going to make sure Skylar lets you know the next time we have it. You’re welcome anytime.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
As they ate, she and Skylar talked with Jack for a while. He enjoyed watching sports, and even though Grace didn’t understand most of what he was talking about, she liked listening to him. He seemed happy to have company, and Grace couldn’t help but like him.
“Where’s your room?” Grace asked as she helped Skylar take their dishes to the kitchen.
“Just down the hall.”
