The Fragrance of Geraniums (A Time of Grace Book 1)

by Ruggieri, Alicia G.

  Sure enough, Mr. Kinner popped into the kitchen just then, Bible in hand. Grace noticed it was worn. Like he reads it, she thought without surprise. Grace had never known anyone who read the Bible outside of church except for the Kinners. Perhaps Father Frederick did, but that was part of his job. Maybe Paulie does, too…

  Mr. Kinner swiped a handful of snickerdoodles off the plate that sat on the kitchen table. “Geoff, are you stealing my cookies?” Mrs. Kinner asked without even turning around.

  He winked at Grace and sidled up to his wife, holding out his handful of cookies. “Guilty as charged, darling.”

  Grace watched Mrs. Kinner struggle to keep her lips from turning up as she gave her husband a mock-stern look.

  “But I’ll pay for them,” Mr. Kinner went on, a serious expression on his face.

  Mrs. Kinner placed the last clean dish in the strainer to drip and wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that, Geoff?” she asked, turning to face him.

  Quick as a wink, he grabbed his wife by her elbows and his mouth pecked hers. “With a kiss,” he grinned, releasing her.

  Mrs. Kinner shook her head and gave him a playful shove toward the door. “Go on with you, Geoffrey Kinner!”

  Chuckling, Mr. Kinner ambled toward the door, still clutching his cookies and Bible. “Well, I’m off. Good-bye, Grace, if you’re not here when I get home.” He pulled on his thick coat, gloves, and hat before popping out the door.

  Grace smiled her good-bye, her mind turning over the affectionate scene she’d witnessed. Even years ago, when Mama and Papa had gotten along better, she couldn’t remember them having such a simple delight in one another. This… This was love, pure and simple, that she saw and heard and felt in the Kinner household. And it was this that kept Grace coming back every night that she could. She wanted to have a piece of that love, or at least feel the wind of it ruffle the sails of her soul. Even though it scared her to get too close to it, sometimes.

  “Men,” Mrs. Kinner commented, giving Grace a smile. But she didn’t say it in the disgusted voice Mama or Aunt Mary might use. She just said it in a way that made Grace feel like she and Mrs. Kinner had a special kinship as well.

  “Speaking of which,” Mrs. Kinner continued, untying her apron, “I wonder if Paulie will come tonight.” She hung the apron on its hook near the sink.

  Grace froze in the middle of hanging up the dish towel to dry. She felt heat rushing from her neck into her face. Ever since Paulie had given her those beautiful earrings and she’d rejected his fifty cents, she’d felt a little tongue-tied around him, though he still walked her home from school most days. He probably doesn’t notice your foolishness, Grace, so don’t worry about it.

  “He’s a nice boy – Paulie. How old is he?” Mrs. Kinner asked as she began to neaten a stack of papers on the countertop.

  Grace swallowed. “A year older than me,” she managed, “Seventeen.”

  “That’s the age I was when…” Mrs. Kinner broke off as a firm rap sounded on the door. “That must be him now,” she smiled. “Come on in, Paulie.”

  The door swung open. Paulie walked in, and so did another visitor. Grace’s mouth dropped open.

  A petite dark-haired girl stepped – no, bounced, Grace decided – into the kitchen. Her heart-shaped face wore a perky pink smile, her round cheeks glowed rosily in the warm lighting, and her perfect black eyebrows arched over large mossy green eyes. The young woman was, quite simply, flawless, from the tiny hat perched atop her fresh bob, to the colorful scarf knotted at her white throat, to the furry snow boots covering her delicate feet. Laughing, she dusted snow from her own shoulders and then… from Paulie’s, as well!

  Mrs. Kinner looked surprised. “Well, hello.” She glanced at Grace, then at the girl. Grace squirmed inside but wouldn’t let on. What in the world?

  Paulie gave his usual hearty grin. “Mrs. K., Grace, this is Angelique. She’s from Montreal. Her daddy just started working at the hospital, and they’re staying with us until they can find the right house to buy.”

  Angelique fluttered her very long, dark lashes. “My father is an orthopedic surgeon, Mrs. Kinner,” she explained in a softly-accented voice. “I hope Paul didn’t overstep by bringing me here. Both of our fathers are on duty tonight, and…”

  “No, no, not at all,” Mrs. Kinner assured her, smiling, and Grace felt her hackles rise in jealousy. Who was this Angelique, to shove in on their study-time?

  “Great!” Paulie exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I brought her, Mrs. K.”

  Grace suddenly noticed that Paulie carried a larger-than-usual stack of books. He must be carrying Angelique’s books! Well, why shouldn’t he, Grace? You have no claim on Paulie’s undivided attention, she reminded herself.

  Grace busied herself with laying out her own textbooks, notebook, and pencils on the kitchen table. She made sure that she left enough room for Paulie and Angelique’s things. She knew Mrs. Kinner would knit or sew in the rocking chair that sat in the corner.

  “Angelique, this is Grace,” Paulie said as he set down his load of books with a thump.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Grace,” Angelique said. Even her voice sounded like a poem. “Paul has told me quite a lot about you.”

  Grace glanced up from her math problem. She saw Angelique’s bright eyes examining her with a quizzical expression and then darting to Paulie. Flushing, conscious of her unstylish haircut and threadbare sweater, Grace fastened her eyes back on her paper. “Nice to meet you, too,” she mumbled.

  Paulie and Angelique took seats at the table, and he immediately reached for a couple of cookies from the plate. “Help yourself,” he told Angelique. “Mrs. K. makes the best cookies ever. Want one, Grace?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Grace replied, though her stomach protested. She refused to glance up again and tried to lose herself in the order of operations.

  “Nervous about the math test on Friday?” Paulie commented. “Boy, Angelique, are you fortunate! Sixteen and already finished with school.”

  Grace paused and sneaked a look at Angelique. The girl sat erect with a thick novel clasped in her long white fingers. She smiled at Paulie. “Well, finished for now, Paul,” she corrected. “I plan to attend university, you know.” Excitement spread over her pretty features, adding even more color to her cheeks and brightening her wide eyes.

  “Of course,” agreed Paulie, “but it sure must be swell to have finished high school. I’ve still got another year to go after this.” He groaned and flipped open his own math book. “And then college. Dad keeps telling me to pray about which school to head off to. I know that, in his heart, he really wants me to go to Brown, like he did, but Harvard… Harvard’s just so enticing. You know what I mean?” Paulie cocked his head to the side like a robin red breast and grinned. He popped an entire snickerdoodle into his mouth and chewed it before continuing. “Then again, there’s always the possibility of going overseas, you know, to Oxford or Edinburgh…”

  Angelique nodded, smiling that she understood exactly what he meant. But Grace didn’t. Couldn’t fathom it. Harvard? Brown? She straightened her skirt hem over her knees. Can he ever know how differently I live? Grace knew she’d count her blessings if she managed to finish this school year, never mind attempt higher education. Mama’s baby was due soon. And, if Mama gets her way, I’ll be staying out for good. The thought burrowed into her mind as she turned the pencil around in her fingers.

  “Where do you want to go, Grace?” The question came from Angelique’s perfectly-formed lips.

  Grace’s tongue turned numb. She felt the blush branding her face again. What am I supposed to say? The truth? The truth is, I probably won’t even finish high school. “I… I don’t know,” she finally mumbled.

  I can’t take this anymore.

  Grace rose suddenly, knocking over her chair. Paulie jumped up to right it, but she didn’t stop. “I’ve gotta go home. I can’t concentrate,” she stated, shutting her books an
d stacking them in a wobbly pile.

  “Hey, are we talking too much?” Paulie asked. “I’m sorry, Grace. Stay. We’ll be quieter; I promise.” His big brown eyes implored her.

  She refused to be persuaded by his dimples. “No, I’ve gotta go.” Calling out a good-bye to Mrs. Kinner, who’d gone to retrieve her knitting from her bedroom, Grace darted out the door, grabbing her jacket from its hook.

  The snow had nearly stopped. Grace breathed a shaking sigh of relief as the silent night closed around her. She stuffed her hands into her pockets. Somehow, the loneliness of the evening hours comforted her; she understood what it was to be alone, to be the one on the outside looking in.

  It was nice while it lasted. Her eyes gazed up at the light glowing inside the Kinners’ kitchen – warm, welcoming, completely “other.”

  I won’t be going back. Finally, she admitted what she’d always known in her heart: She didn’t really belong; she never had, and she never would. She didn’t fit in with loving people like the Kinners or smart, kind boys like Paulie Giorgi. They corresponded with the Angeliques of the world, with their neat picket fences, their red geraniums, their brick walkways, their diplomas from universities, the other well-dressed members of First Baptist, and their perfectly-round snickerdoodles.

  They just don’t get it. They don’t get that life for me is fated to be one long thread of despair. Gritting her teeth, Grace refused to look back at the house again, afraid that her resolve might soften, though she knew that her conviction was right.

  Her heart felt too heavy to do any more thinking, any more feeling. She put one foot in front of another. I need to change out the cardboard, she realized, feeling the slush soak through her shoes.

  Mama would be glad to see her walk in early, though she wouldn’t say it. She could see Mama in her mind, sitting there all swollen with the baby coming, rocking away by the window. Papa never came inside at night anymore; he spent all of his nights with Gertrude in that dumpy cottage.

  I wonder if I’ll end up just like Mama? The thought brought a dull shiver of horror. Who knows what’s in the cards for me, I guess, she reflected. Mama sure couldn’t have thought this would be her life.

  Grace had just turned the first corner when she heard footsteps pounding up behind her. Ever alert, she whirled around on the deserted sidewalk. She prepared to run if necessary and peered through the soft veil of falling snow.

  Paulie. His dark curls flew back from his forehead as he jogged toward her, face full of heavy concern. “Grace, wait up!” he called out. He’d only pulled on his coat; he must have been in a hurry to catch her.

  Half wanting to relent, she hesitated for only a second, then turned and kept walking. He came up alongside her, panting. “What’s the matter, Grace? You always do your homework at the Kinners. That’s why I brought Angelique over there tonight, to meet you.”

  “Well, I met her.” Grace clutched her books tightly in the crook of her arm, keeping her ice-cold hands jammed down in her pockets. She looked straight ahead, not trusting herself to meet Paulie’s eyes.

  In two quick strides, he moved in front of her, compelling Grace to stop. “What’s wrong, Grace?” he asked, and when she looked up, she saw genuine confusion thick in his eyes. “Did I do something?”

  “No, you didn’t do nothing… anything,” Grace answered, ducking her head. How could she meet the gaze of this young man who was so far above her in every way that mattered?

  “Did Angelique…?”

  She forced herself to raise her eyes, determined to maintain a modicum of dignity. “Angelique is fine. I mean, she didn’t do anything wrong. She’s a swell girl, Paulie. She’s great for you.” Grace kept her voice even, emotionless.

  Paulie raised his eyebrows. “Great for me? What are you talking about, Grace?” Realization and then surprise replaced the confusion in his eyes. “You don’t think…” He gave out a shout of laughter, and then Grace found herself seized in a fierce brief hug.

  Dazed by the unexpected expression, Grace just stood blinking in the quiet glow of the streetlamp when Paulie released her. “Grace, are you kidding me? I care about you,” he said earnestly. “Don’t you understand?”

  From deep inside Grace’s heart, anger bloomed and spread suddenly, surprising even her with its ferocity. “Well, you shouldn’t care about me!” She moved around him and burned the pathway beneath her feet, desperate to get away, to get back home where it was safe. Bleak, perhaps, but always safe. Always safe.

  But Paulie grasped her elbow, stopping her again and turning her toward him. “Why not, Grace?” he asked. “Why won’t you let me?”

  Because I’m afraid. Afraid to hope. “I just don’t fit, Paulie. That’s why. You… You come from this gilded, happy-go-lucky life. I… I…” Her voice limped to a halt, broken-toned.

  “You…?” he urged, and she glanced up to find his quiet eyes set on her face.

  “I was born on a dead-end road,” she said, her words cracking with tears she wouldn’t shed. Not here. Not in front of him. Better for him to know the truth now. Grace turned away from the light shed by the streetlamp, turned her face into the shadows so that Paulie could only see her back.

  “A dead-end road?” Paulie repeated. “What do you mean, Grace?”

  The smile had fallen out of his voice. Was he confused? Or was he truly disturbed by what she said? “I know where you live. I know that you’re poor. You don’t have to hide that from me,” he murmured.

  Would he never understand?

  “Look.” Grace breathed deeply. “Your papa’s a doctor. Well, mine never finished grade school. And he’s never held a steady job for as far back as I can remember. He keeps a mistress in a cottage out behind our house. She’s my uncle’s - his brother-in-law’s - sister.”

  She dared to look straight at Paulie, wanting to see his reaction. He flinched. Good. Better for them both to understand the real deal.

  Grace continued, knowing that once she stopped talking, it’d be nearly impossible to start again. “My family’s broken in pieces, Paulie. Mama’s nearly cried herself to death this year, and I know that she wants me to drop out of school to help her with the baby that’s due any day now. Your life… Well, it’s fun for me to visit it, doing homework at the Kinners and all, but I have to admit it to myself, Paulie. I have to admit: I don’t live in your world. I live in my world, bad as it is.”

  Her quiet words had stunned him. Grace could see it in Paulie’s eyes. Good. Now he knew. And she could quit hiding and she could stop dreaming and she could just settle for the way things had to be.

  They stood there a few feet apart for several moments. Finally, Grace murmured, “I don’t mean to hurt you. It’s just the way it is, you know?”

  But he shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No. No, Grace. It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to be that way. You’re thinking you have to live your life the way your family does? You don’t. You really don’t.”

  Her anger flared again. “And how am I supposed to get out of it, huh? I don’t have a daddy with loads of money so that I can coast my way to Harvard. ‘Or maybe I’ll go to Oxford,’” she mimicked bitterly. “And what am I supposed to do, desert my pregnant mama? Nobody else is gonna help her. My older sisters left the house. There’s only me!” She jabbed at her chest to underline her point. “I’m in the gutter. There’s no way out for me. I can look up at the stars, but I’m still in the gutter, Paulie! Alone.”

  He hesitated just a moment – Could those be tears in his eyes? “You aren’t alone,” he said softly.

  “What?” Great, was this going to be some dramatic love-speech? Grace really wasn’t in the mood. Even for Paulie.

  He looked directly at her, his eyes glittering in the streetlamp’s light. “You’re not alone, Grace. Jesus is with you, in the gutter.”

  She couldn’t believe that he would bring something so off-topic into this. “Jesus? What does He have to do with this?”

  He breathed deeply.
“A great deal. I should have talked to you like this before. Honestly, I feared coming across like I was preaching to you, or was against you being Catholic or whatever.”

  Grace stiffened.

  “But I know that you struggle with your lot in life and-”

  “Struggle with my lot in life?” Grace cut him off. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Paulie Giorgi. No idea at all!” She let her words out blood-red and clawed, hoping to wound him. Perhaps that would rid her of some of the pain that twisted its way up her throat, nearly choking her with grief.

  Paulie swallowed hard, obviously bitten by her tone. “I’m sorry,” his voice came low, his breath frosty. “I’ll pray for you, Grace.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Thanks a lot. My mother prayed to the saints for years, and look where it’s gotten her.” She felt the tears coming, hot and bitter, and knew she wouldn’t be able to stop them for much longer. “Bye, Paulie,” she said.

  This time, he didn’t stop her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  It was over between them. Grace knew that now. Their friendship couldn’t stand the gust of reality which her harsh words blew. It’s better this way, Grace reflected sometimes over the next few days. That thought soothed the pain of their encounter.

  The day after their argument, she removed the little velvet jewelry box from its place of honor beside the geranium plant. In the privacy of her bedroom, Grace didn’t bother to stop the tears from scalding their way down her cheeks and staining the box’s material. She muffled her sobs so that Mama wouldn’t hear, and she placed the jewelry box deep inside her desk.

  She begged her heart to forget its existence. If only the box could just disappear forever. If only her memories could disappear forever – They only made her present reality even more wretched.

  Grace quit school immediately. She was sixteen now, and she knew that the school would never question it. Lots of kids dropped out at that age.