He didn’t know what Grace did other than what she wrote in her report and he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to lose her because Rutgers was jealous.
He grasped at straws with his next statement, but he had to deter Rutgers.
“I had this salve analyzed when she first started using it, and there’s nothing more than aloe gel and vitamin D, and jojoba oil, she says she sometimes adds. Capsaicin for arthritis which, believe me, does do wonders for some of my patients. I use it myself, but not with the kind of success she has,” he told Rutgers. “Come on, man. She’s been here nearly a year now. I’m not going to question this, and I urge you not to, either.”
“I’m still keeping a close eye on this. If I find so much as—”
Greg punched off the intercom and picked up the handset after a suitable pause.
“Thanks for checking up. If you’ll excuse me, now, I have patients. Good day.”
Randy couldn’t stop time. He knew that. But if he could, he would have made August last another month so he had more time making things right with his son before the boy went to college. Jimmy had so much to learn about life, about making choices. But first…
“You have to pay the consequences. Not only did you get hurt doing a stupid, dangerous illegal act,” Randy said, trying not to notice that he had to look up into Jimmy’s face, “you could have had your life changed forever. What if you’d lost your hand? How impressed would this young lady be then?”
They stood outside the back screen door of Kaye’s Café. Jimmy leaned against the wall, hunched, serious and not sullen for once. The white bandages around his hand were in stark contrast from the tan of his skin.
Tanya was on her break, in her white serving apron with her hair pulled back severely from her face. “It’s really my fault, Mr. Marshall,” she mumbled.
Randy couldn’t help it—he stared at her, making an effort to keep his jaw tight.
“You see, Jimmy was just trying to, um, well…” Apparently flustered, she bent her head and mumbled, “to, um, impress me, I guess.”
Jimmy nodded.
Somewhere inside glassware clinked. A dishwasher started gurgling. Used french fry grease mingled unpleasantly with a strong disinfectant.
“He stopped texting me right before Christmas and I was, well, mad about it.”
Jimmy went pale under his tan at Tanya’s confession and closed his eyes.
Randy remembered the feeling, nearly nineteen years ago, when a relationship went south. “So you didn’t hear from Jimmy, and for that you write him off? Sounds like an excuse to dump him, if you ask me.”
Jimmy cut in. “No, Dad. I don’t know if you knew this, but Mom stopped Internet service at home in January ’cause the company changed, and so did the rates and stuff.”
Randy took a deep breath. “For the love of a stamp, you get yourselves in this kind of trouble.” Then he laughed. “I can’t be the one throwing stones here.”
“Dad…”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, work something out, you two, before you blow up something bigger.”
Randy started to walk away. “Oh, yeah. Jimmy, you’re not allowed to play with matches for the rest of the summer, and of course, those fellows from Soo—well, they’re not welcome here anymore.” He thought some more. “And your dates have to be supervised by me or Kaye.” He frowned and walked on, and then turned back. “One more thing. That fine for the fireworks on the beach without a permit? You have to pay half.”
“Okay, Dad.” With a little backward glance at Tanya, Jimmy stumbled over to him. “Dad—just, thanks.”
“Sure.” He nodded at Tanya who stood watching them with an anxious expression; one foot crooked to her knee, ponytail wrapped neatly in a bun. Kids.
He’d been no different. He rubbed the bristly new buzz cut of his hair and turned away. He’d been that young, that self-assured mixed with terror about the future; so stupid he’d never thought about any consequences. Certainly not parenthood. Would he be any different at this stage of life? Be a better dad, for instance, if he’d done things in the right order and waited for the right person… Water under the bridge.
The sound of Kaye’s laughter drifted out the screen door. She did a good job, parenting her niece. She should have married, had kids of her own. She still could, of course. But not with his brother.
Chapter Nineteen
Ted wondered again if he was doing the right thing.
Kaye swore she’d seen Grace at the Seagull Inn. He wanted to respect her privacy, but concern overrode his senses.
She’d disappeared nearly a week ago, just after Jimmy’s accident. There’d been a note, sure—something about taking a little vacation for a few days. She planned to drive up the coast. “Don’t forget to feed Trigger and the kittens.”
Memories of her white, drawn face at the clinic that night made him feel selfish and rude, mean. Last year he had simply expected her to step into his life and make it easier for him to go on dying while taking care of his child, and now his nephew, without thinking about her needs. He mentally kicked himself when he recalled the harsh words over her getting a job in the first place. Fighting like husband and wife who were not very nice to each other. Something he’d been good at once.
What about him? Not for the first time, he wondered if he could ask her to help Randy with Eddy when he had passed on, or maybe even take him. Randy was out of town so much, and not the best parenting material as this episode with Jimmy showed. Be fair—he’s hardly gotten to know his own child. Jimmy grew up in a different household. The main thing was to ensure Jilly would not get her hands on Eddy—ever. A blood relative would go far making sure that never happened. If somehow Grace and Randy got together…
Eddy loved her. She had to be all right. It didn’t matter that he loved her, too. If he was going to die in peace, he needed to know his son would be safe.
He stopped in the parking lot of the inn, next to her car. Slumped in the seat, he felt like a stalker as he waited. The breeze off Lake Michigan cooled his face. The sun lulled him while he wrestled with his decision to go in and confront her or leave her alone. A half-hour later he decided to go. As he turned around ready to pull onto the road he saw her sitting on a dune facing the water. She brushed hair off of her face. He waited until she did it again, tucking her flying hair back around her left ear. Yes—something white like a bandage wrapped around her hand.
Why wouldn’t she want anyone to know that she’d been hurt—obviously while working on Jimmy? Unless there was something with Jimmy that he didn’t know about—didn’t want to know. Young man, loose in Sault Ste. Marie, tattoo parlors with all the sailors coming through; anything could happen. Ted hurried out of the parking lot back to his brother’s house.
Jimmy was playing a one-handed game of catch with Eddy in the backyard. Ted sent his son into the house for Popsicles and then confronted his nephew.
“You been sick lately? You have hepatitis, or AIDS?” Ted took a menacing step closer and grabbed the boy’s shirt. “Been a user, Jimmy? Did the deed with any of your friends who got sick?”
Jimmy’s face turned white and then red. He peeled Ted’s fist away and backed up, shouting. “Hey, man! What are you talking about? I’m not like that—I’m clean!”
“Then you want to tell me about the night Grace fixed you up at the hospital? If you hurt her in any way…”
Jimmy shook his head and drew his brows together. He bent to pick up the ball. “She helped me—she was good, and she was all right when she walked me out.”
Ted shook his head in denial. “Where would she have gotten hurt?” He turned, gathering himself for a lunge, but betrayed by a leg that wouldn’t obey him quickly enough, fell heavily on the lawn. Jimmy hunched down close, though not close enough to get within arm reach.
Ted painfully heaved himself into a sitting position. Eddy, trailing red Popsicle juice like blood dripping over his arms and bare legs, came barreling out the door and pushed Jimmy away.
“Whoa!” Ted called out. Eddy crawled into his lap, glaring up at his big cousin. “That’s enough.”
Jimmy rolled over and threw his arm over his eyes.
Ted took a deep breath, rallying his strength for the effort to rise. “Hey, Eds, isn’t that one of the kittens?” Eddy slipped away to investigate.
Jimmy spoke, low and quick. “Something’s weird, man, when Grace was helpin’ me I swear I saw her hand and it looked as bad as my own. I must have been hallucinatin’, though. She held my hand in hers—no gloves. I thought that was kind of strange, but I’ve never been in that kind of situation before, so I didn’t know, it coulda been the right thing. It must have been my blood on her hand…”
“Okay, okay. I believe you.” He’d always figured there were secrets she hadn’t shared, something she had to hide about what happened back in Tennessee. He hadn’t cared. It hadn’t affected him before. But this… Randy needed to know. They deserved to know. But he would have to wait until she came back.
Ted watched Grace’s return and limped over to confront her as she opened her car door.
“What’s wrong with your hand? Why did you go away?”
“It’s none of your business, Ted.”
“You’re wrong.” Ted stared into her eyes as if he could pull the answers out of her. “I need it to be. Did you hurt yourself working on Jimmy? Is there a problem I should know about? It’s been over a year since you came into my-my life, and I can’t help it Grace—I just want to… I don’t want to see you hurt—for any reason. I can’t stand for me or my family to cause you any more pain.”
“I needed a break, Ted. That’s all. A vacation, because, like you said, it’s been over a year. Why would you think I’d been hurt?”
Ted was uncomfortable knowing she could see him struggle for words. Had he become a stalker? He turned to stare at the dead apple orchard. “I care. About you. And my son and Randy’s. If there’s something you’re keeping from us, anything else that could interfere with…my family,” he gritted out, shaking his head. “I have no right to feel this way.”
“Feelings don’t have prerequisites of ‘rights’ to them. And I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just needed to get away for a couple of days, that’s all. Or can’t I have a vacation?”
“A person doesn’t simply go a few miles away for a vacation. And I saw you with a bandage.”
“Ted.”
He eyed the fine lines around her gray eyes, the soft hair framing her face, her pretty mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not proud of it, but Kaye saw you and told me. I have to know. Did you hurt yourself?”
“I did not hurt myself.”
He closed his eyes when he felt the warmth of her hand on his shoulder.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there? Ted, I don’t presume to know how much longer you are given—or for that matter, any of us. If I’ve learned anything it’s to expect the unexpected.”
She moved away to sit on the top step. “Join me.” She waved to a spot beside her, and then wrapped her hands around her knees.
Late afternoon sun picked up the golden highlights of a few strands of hair that had escaped her barrette. He ignored her invitation to sit. Her left hand looked chapped. He knew how often she needed to wash at work, so he couldn’t make an issue of whether or not it was unusual.
“I had no break—no vacation—while I nursed my husband through two years of terrible illness and death.” She put her cheek against her knee. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really knows for sure what will happen to you, right? I mean, you look pretty good to me.”
Ted smiled when she flushed.
“What I’m trying to say is” —she turned her face into her knees at Ted’s chuckle— “I don’t see death in you.” He lowered himself to sit clumsily two steps beneath her, at eye level. Her eyes had flecks of black and hazel speckled among the pewter of the iris. He wanted to believe her. “What do you see?”
“I see a man with a past, who wants to be more than the sum of what’s gone on before. I think you’re worried about something worse than dying.” She pursed her lips and wiggled her toes. “And I guess that makes me wonder where I fit in here, my real purpose.”
“What could be worse than dying?”
“Not being sure of what happens next. After death.” She sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes it’s so nice to think that this life is all there is. But it’s not. And you know that.”
“Shelby says you have some special talent for knowing people from the inside.”
Grace’s dimple appeared. “You could call it that. You’ve known that I can—help—people sometimes, more than just with—medicine.”
“Yes.” Ted nodded. “I guess I’ve had that feeling for a long time—even before Jimmy’s accident.”
She shrugged. “Okay. It’s a hillbilly thing. My granny had the ‘sight.’”
Ted picked up on her change in tone and honored it. “I love my son. I want to know that he’ll be cared for, after I’m gone.” He swallowed. “Randy is good with him. But you…together, maybe we could talk…”
He was distracted when Eddy clumped up the steps with his hands reverently cupped around a butterfly. “Look!” he whispered, awed as only a small boy could be. He plopped down between them. Ted looked down across his son’s ruffled sun-kissed head at the insect, treasured between the little boy’s palms. Ted wrapped his arms about Eddy and looked at Grace, making and answering a wordless promise.
Summer was ending, along with a great many other things Grace took for granted. She walked over to the Marshall house one morning after Eddy made a very rare phone call.
“Daddy didn’t get up,” Eddy told her. “I dressed myself all everything.”
Ted had lost more ground every day, health-wise. His short rally had ended and no treatment seemed to stop the degenerative effects of the illness.
Grace was not ready to give up.
Eddy reacted to his father’s illness with surly, uncooperative impatience, unusual for the normally contented five-year-old. Oops! Make that “almost six, Grace,” she could hear him rebuke her. He didn’t like breakfast anymore. He didn’t want to go the library story time. And Uncle Randy was mean when he told him to turn off the television.
She let herself into the house and greeted Eddy who wore blue shorts and green-striped shirt, no socks, and sailor hat.
“Looks like you’re ready for the beach, Eddy,” Grace said to his squirming delight. “Should we stop in and see your dad?”
Eddy’s shoulders slumped and he clutched his stuffed tiger under his chin. “Yeah, okay.”
Ted’s room smelled dank. A mister spurted in one corner. It seemed to help his labored breathing but made the atmosphere sweaty. The shades were pulled, for light seemed to make his constant headaches worse.
She paused inside the doorway to listen. Ted beckoned to his son. “Have a good day, okay, sport? I’ll be up when you come back, I promise,” he rasped.
Grace bent to pick up a used drinking glass and crumpled napkins.
“Just leave it.” Ted rolled over and pulled the sheet over his face.
It was hard, but she did. She drove them to the dunes for a romp in the waves and a picnic lunch. She ran harder than ever on the beach, chasing Eddy and the waves and birds and the little fish that swam near the shoreline until they were both exhausted. Ted’s white face haunted Grace and she pretended that the bright sunlight made her eyes water underneath her sunglasses whenever Eddy came close.
Randy pulled up to the front lobby of the clinic to wait for Grace after work. She had her car in the shop and Randy agreed to pick her up on his way home. Ted had seemed overly delighted by the news, and that, topped with a couple of sly comments about how well he and Grace got along lately, poked his suspicious button.
He hesitated in the empty parking lot before exiting the car. When he saw her through the glass of the clinic doors, he turned off the engine but waited. Evans followed her into the small vestibule.<
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Randy felt like a voyeur but he couldn’t look away. Like some kind of TV melodrama he watched the doctor stand in front of the door, peel her hands from the grab bar and put his arms around her.
Randy opened the car door to…do what? Help her? Did she need him? Grace held up her arms to push against his chest before she let her forehead rest between her hands against him, a move he recognized as defiant and submissive.
Ashamed, he pulled the door shut and turned away, mind going a mile a minute.
He knew how his brother felt about Grace. He thought that she returned the feelings, although he couldn’t call himself much of an expert on that sort of thing. A dying man loves a woman who obviously—what—loves him back? But the woman also wants to be with other men? Healthy men? Men who don’t die? Randy shook his head and tapped the steering wheel, trying hard to find fault. He should stay out of it. Ted didn’t need to know any of this—whatever he thought he saw.
The passenger door opened and shut. Grace sat silent before clicking her seatbelt and wiping her face. She fished a hanky out of her pocket and blew her nose. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to—”
“You don’t owe me any explanation.”
Grace’s hands shook. She laughed a little—high-pitched and hysterical. “I could tell you that it wasn’t what it seemed but I’m not sure you would understand.”
Randy shifted his legs on the seat. “It’s none of my business. And I’m not planning to say anything to Ted.”
“Ted knows.”
“I doubt that! Ted loves you. And he deserves better.” Randy started the car and drove off with a squeal of the tires. They didn’t exchange a word all the way home. He didn’t know if he was angry at Grace, Evans, Ted, or himself. End of season business would set him on the road for the next several days. With Ted’s obvious decline, he was going to have to face some tough decisions when he got back.
Healing Grace Page 17
