Finding Grace: A Novel

by Sarah Pawley

  "I will not! This is my brother's house, and mine too, and I'm not going anywhere."

  He tried to take her arm, and the first attempt she managed to dodge. The second time, he got a hold of her and tried to move her, attempting to drag her forward, but she dug heels into the carpet and refused.

  "Let go of me!" She dug her nails into his hand.

  He yelled in pain, cursing, but still he would not release his hold. Her control snapped…and she exploded in fear and rage.

  "I said, let go!" Before she realized what she was doing, her fingers balled. Her arm came back. Then her fist landed into his jaw with all the strength she had. Spun aside by the blow, he landed on his knees on the floor, holding his face in pain.

  She was in pain herself. It had been a long time since she'd hit anyone, and her small fist was not prepared for the impact. She stepped back, holding her throbbing hand and wrist. It distracted her so that she hardly noticed when the front door flew open.

  Henry came rushing in. She glanced over at him for a moment, watching as he took in what he was seeing. She saw the change in his expression as he looked between her and Charlie. At first, looking at the man kneeling on the floor, he seemed angry and confused, probably wondering what in the world was going on. Then he looked at her, and seeing how she was holding her hand, obviously in pain, his eyes became soft with concern.

  "I was on my way over here and heard the yelling. Are you all right?"

  She nodded, wincing from her injury. "I'm fine.” Then she looked over at Charlie, who was rising to his feet, still holding his jaw. "This is Charlie Hillard," she said. "He was just leaving."

  Henry’s expression changed again, now full of curiosity and surprise. "Charlie Hillard? This isn't the Charlie, is it?" He gestured his head towards the other man.

  She nodded again. "The only one, thank heavens.”

  Now on his feet, his face dark with a scowl, Charlie took several steps toward Henry. "Who are you, walking in here like you own the place?"

  Henry took his own step forward. He was taller, more confident…and he smirked, looking down at Charlie with a sneer. "I’m no one for you to worry about.”

  Though he wasn’t equal to Henry’s stature, Charlie hardly seemed intimidated. He sneered, turning to Grace in angry confusion.

  “Who the hell is this? And why he is here strutting around like a Bantam Rooster?”

  She sighed, wishing they would both go away so she could tend to her aching hand. But she knew she couldn't leave things as they were.

  "If it's any of your business, Charlie…this is Henry Shaw. He's my neighbor."

  For a moment, the two men just stood and examined one another. She wondered if they were about to throw punches. But Charlie suddenly gave a snort, throwing a hand up as if to wave Henry off like a buzzing insect.

  "I don’t give a damn who he is.” He turned to her, determination is his every feature. “You get your things together right now, or I'll leave it all behind. Make up your mind. Either way, you're coming home with me, like it or not."

  Lord, the man was thickheaded. She wanted to hit him again.

  "Don’t you hear good? I'm not going anywhere with you."

  Henry stepped to her side with a confident little smirk. "She's right. She's not going back."

  Charlie looked his opponent up and down. "Who the hell asked you about it? Mind your own business, mister."

  The smirk on Henry’s face was oh-so-confident. "Oh, I am minding my business. Miss Grace is my business. Because you see, I'm her boss."

  Grace blinked for a moment, unsure of what he had really just said. Her mouth opened slightly, and then it closed again. My Boss? She thought. That's the strangest choice of a lie I've ever heard.

  Charlie seemed equally as stunned...and completely skeptical. "What do you mean by boss? What kind of boss? For what job?"

  Now, Henry’s smirk was full and brazenly arrogant. "That's none of your concern, now is it? I think it's time for you to be on your way, Mr. Hillard."

  Standing a little taller beside Henry, Grace looked at Charlie with her head held high.

  "Tell my folks that I’m happy where I am, and that's all they need to know.”

  Charlie must have realized his time there was up. He moved towards the door…but at the threshold, he turned to give them both a dark look. His voice was cold…deadly serious.

  “This isn’t the end of this.”

  He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  Grace turned to Henry, her figure relaxing with relief. She gave him a little smile. He gave her one in return. Then she noticed how he was looking at her, his eyes full of intense concern. She was about to say something…to assure him she was quite well…when the pain from her injury suddenly came back.

  With a light touch he took her hand, lifting it up to look at it. His fingers were warm…very gentle, and she felt her breath quicken at the feeling of his fingertips. Her pulse throbbed as he brushed his fingers softly over her hand and her wrist, testing the extent of the damage, and she found she could not pull her hand from his grasp. The pleasure of his touch was much too intense. And his voice. It was like warm honey, rich and smooth.

  "You've bruised your knuckles. And you might have a slight sprain in your wrist."

  She found she could not respond, nor move a muscle. It seemed he had cast a spell around her, making her powerless. She felt weightless as he led her to the sofa, making her sit down.

  "Wait here, I'll be right back.”

  She nodded, sitting there silently for several moments, feeling as if she were floating on a cloud. It was the same feeling she’d felt on that night when he had kissed her. But now, it was different. There was no feeling of guilt. No sense of shame, thinking that she was the force that might break apart a relationship. There was only a sense of pure joy…a great warmth that flowed through her entire frame.

  A moment later he came back, holding a small cloth bundle in his hand. She wasn’t sure what it was until he sat down beside her and pressed it gently against her skin. The feeling of the ice pack was sudden. She jumped slightly at its shock, gritting her teeth. It also helped her to regain her senses, for she could not ignore the numbing of her flesh as the cold pressed against it.

  "Thank you," she said to him, giving him a grateful smile. He returned it with a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.

  "You're welcome.” Then he chuckled. "Here I was, thinking I had to rush in and rescue you again, like I did before. But you manage to clock the bastard all by yourself. Gave him a good one, too, from the way he was down on the floor when I came in." He still grinned slightly, but then he forcibly dropped the smile, trying to give her a look of disappointment. "Thank you so much for stealing my thunder.”

  She laughed a little. But then, her own expression sobered a bit as a lingering question surfaced.

  "Why did you come over, anyway? And what did you mean by saying you were my boss?”

  He shook his head, waving off her questions. "Don't worry about that now. I'm just glad I did come, even though you made me useless." The smile returned to his face. Then he sighed. "I hate to leave good company. But I have to get to work. Just keep the ice on your hand and the swelling will go down before you know it. And have fun explaining it to your brother."

  She nodded, watching as he rose to his feet. She felt a kind of disappointment in seeing him walk to the door, and secretly she longed for him to stay. When he paused at the threshold, turning to her, she felt a surge of happiness at the sight. Maybe he would not go, after all.

  "I'll see you at the club tomorrow morning," he said. "Noon sharp, if you please."

  Her happiness turned to bald shock at his statement. Surely he was still joking. He had to be.

  "Noon?" she repeated, the pitch in her voice slightly raising in question of what he was talking about.

  "Please do not be late," he said. "I expect my employees to be punctual." And without further words, he smiled at her and walked out.


  She sat there with her jaw slacked, utterly astonished. By the time she came to her senses and hurried after him, he was gone. And she was left alone, bewildered, and completely unnerved about what she would do now.

  * * * * *

  “I’ll kill him,” said Jack. “I’ll hunt him down and stomp his guts out.”

  Alice rolled her eyes in disgust at his manly prowling, for that’s what it seemed to be as he stalked back and forth across the living room. “You’re not going to do anything, Jack.”

  “Well I need to do something, and I think it involves a good ass kicking.”

  Alice looked at Grace and smiled. “Looks like that’s been taken care of.” She handed her a fresh wrapping of ice. “You must have hit him pretty hard.”

  Grace just shrugged, as her mind replayed all that had happened in the last few hours.

  Jack had not been pleased at all to come home and find her with a sprained wrist. And when he found out what had caused it, the explanation left him red-faced and ready to kill. He wasn’t the least bit appeased to hear that she’d defended herself, and quite well. He was furious about Charlie having been in his home, in his own living room…and the fact that he was still out there somewhere.

  Jack and Alice were still angry with each other, judging from the tone of their voices as they argued over her. Jack snorted in contempt and gestured a hand at his sister.

  “So you can take care of yourself, can you?”

  Grace said nothing, looking away. But in her usual way, Alice had plenty to say to him and she didn’t mince words. She turned on him with her green eyes full of fire.

  “Will you please shut up? You play that tune so much the record is worn out! She socked him in the face and he left. What the hell more do you want?”

  “Woman, who are you telling to shut up? I wear the pants in this family!”

  “Jesus H. Christ, if I hear that one more time I’ll punch you in the mouth myself!”

  Trying to be a peacemaker, Grace chimed in. “He’s probably on his way home already.”

  Jack turned on her fast. “And hell is just a sauna! What the hell was Henry doing over here? What was he doing the whole time Charlie was in the house? Was he just standing there watching?”

  “They’re not all Neanderthals like you!” Alice spat at him. “Your sister took care of herself. She didn’t need Henry to beat the hell out of anyone.”

  “It was the least he could have done!”

  “Well if that’s made you mad, you’ll love this!” Grace said. “Henry wants me to work for him.”

  Jack and Alice both looked at her, their faces stunned. Then Jack turned on his wife. “This is all your fault! You’re the one who encouraged her!”

  “Don’t blame me, you horse’s ass!”

  Grace watched the battle. It was almost scary to watch a married couple fighting so badly…and yet, it was fascinating in its own way. They were like two brawlers taking shots at each other. She might have worried, if she didn’t know that eventually, they would settle down and make up. It might have been interesting to see how far they would take it before the making up began, but she found she was too tired to stay any longer. Her wrist was still tender as well. Without saying anything, she made her way up to her room. Halfway up the stairs she heard the front door slam, and she knew Jack had gone outside again. Alice was in the living room, probably buried in a book or one of her crossword puzzles. So she left them to sort out their differences, heading into her room to nurse her hand and to think about what a day it had been.

  An hour or so went by as she lay on the bed, book in hand, trying to calm herself with a bit of reading. From downstairs she heard the sound of music coming on. It wasn’t so strange. The radio or the record player was always on, especially at night. But listening, she could swear it was Jack’s voice she heard singing the song, and curious to know, she went to the door and opened it so she could listen. It was indeed him. He’d never been the most grand of singers, but he had a nice voice and it made her smile to think of him now, trying to entertain his wife with a love song. He really was a ham when it came to her…

  Why do I do, just as you say

  Why must I just, give you your way

  Why do I sigh, why don't I try to forget

  It must have been,

  That something lovers call fate

  Kept me saying: "I have to wait"

  I saw them all,

  Just couldn't fall 'til we met…

  Grace walked out into the hall and sat on the steps to listen. Last night she’d heard them fighting as she sat there. Now she hoped to hear them making amends.

  It had to be you, it had to be you

  I wandered around, and finally found

  The somebody who

  Could make me be true,

  And could make me be blue

  And even be glad, just to be sad

  Thinking of you…

  She heard Alice say, “I’m not talking to you, Jack-ass.” But in her voice, there was a hint of amusement. And still he kept singing to her.

  Some others I've seen,

  Might never be mean

  Might never be cross,

  Or try to be boss

  But they wouldn't do

  For nobody else, gave me a thrill

  With all your faults, I Love you still

  It had to be you, wonderful you

  It had to be you.

  Now she heard Alice telling him what a big foolish idiot he was, but it was clear that she didn’t mean a word of it. The sound of laughter and whispering was now distinct, and Grace knew that the two of them had made up. She smiled with delight at the thought of it. She turned and went back upstairs, closing the door to give them their privacy. They had made up, so now she could think of other dilemmas that needed solving.

  She drew a hot bath and relaxed in it, thinking for the longest time about Henry’s offer, and at long last she decided she would take him up on it.

  It wasn’t just the idea of being him more often...although, that thought had made her smile to herself with pleasure. It was the idea of doing something that no one thought she would do, or should do. Jack would hate the idea, simply because of Henry. Had they known of it, her parents would have deemed her a devilish child indeed, for women were not suppose to work outside the home. And the idea of her working in a club…a den of evil, they would have no doubt called it…would be their equivalent of their daughter giving herself to Satan.

  The more she thought of it, the more she found herself excited by the idea of working for him. What she would be doing there, she was not for certain. Maybe she would be helping with costumes, or something else in the backstage area. It had certainly looked exciting and interesting when she had seen it that night a while back. How wonderful it might be to be a part of the whole working of things, to be useful and important, and not confined to a house as she was now. As much as she loved living here with Jack, and much as she adored Alice, she knew there was a loftier purpose awaiting her out there. Perhaps this was her chance to find it.

  Henry looked at his watch. Twelve Forty-Five, it read. He clicked the lid of the watch shut, feeling a knot of frustration tighten in his belly.

  He had told her noon sharp, and that was what he had meant. But she was not here, and he began to fear that she might not show. He had left her house yesterday, feeling a great sense of triumph along with the spring in his step. It had all fallen into place so easily…much more easily than he would have imagined, or could have planned. Charlie Hillard, as much of a worthless dog as he was, had provided the perfect means for him to get just what he wanted from Grace. There had been no need to make a fool of himself in asking her to come and work for him. He had worried about that, for he was almost certain that she would have refused him, for one reason or another. But with his sudden declaration of being her “employer” in order to give her a front of protection, it had all been done in one quick moment. His method was unorthodox, it was true. But
now he might have her, in his own little way. The only question now was, would she come to work for him or not?

  What a woman, he thought, as he remembered the sight of Charlie on the floor, holding his jaw. Her passion and intensity were all there, and he could not deny that it thrilled him to think of her fiery nature, and how it might be put to good use in other ways. Ways that were not at all polite and pure, and he felt his blood warm and stir at the thought. He had felt that same torrent of feeling yesterday, when he had examined her slender hand for injuries. How soft her skin had felt beneath his fingers. How difficult it had been not to press his lips to the tender place on her upturned wrist, where he knew he would have felt her pulse throbbing. He had seen the warmth in her eyes, and knew that if he had taken his time and done things slowly, he might have nearly had his way with her. Of course, he might well have ended up with a swollen jaw. But behind the want in her eyes, he had also read fear. She was an innocent…a thing of purity and goodness, despite the fact that she had been kissed before, and by him. That had been his doing, not hers. He was fairly certain that she didn’t know much about sexuality, despite the fact that she had probably seen more pregnant women and babies than he ever would in a lifetime. He would take his time with her… make her trust in him, for what was a relationship without trust?

  He had once vowed never again to fall in love, or to engage in a real relationship with any woman. But there was something about her that was breaking down that barrier he had built around his heart. And much to his own surprise, he wasn’t afraid of it. Truthfully, he welcomed the thought of such a change, for it had been far too long since he had known love. And wasn’t it the right of every man…or woman…to be loved?

  He only half-listened to the rehearsal of the band and some of the singers and actors working on the stage. He sighed, taking out his watch again to check the time. As he did, one of the crew members called out from the hall behind him.