Saving Gracie

by Terry Lee

  “I know that now,” Quinlan said.

  “I’ve always loved you, Mom, but I’ve been mad at you for so long.” Grace wadded the used Kleenex and tossed it in the beach bag. “But, it’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.”

  Quinlan’s eyes and nose ran like full-blown faucets. She couldn’t speak.

  “I know you did the best you could. And I know how much you loved me.” Grace glanced up at the sun and squinted. “But you know something?”

  Quinlan shook her head, still unable to speak and on her third Kleenex.

  “I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been gone.” Grace’s eyes grew soft. She tilted her head. “Maybe it’s because you’re gone I’ve learned this stuff.” She chewed on her lower lip and then stopped. “I still feel vulnerable though—it’s just not as scary as it used to be. It’s not the end of the world.” Grace smiled. “I thought it was, but it’s not.”

  A while passed before Quinlan regained her composure. Her emotions ran the gamut from relief, to sorrow, regret, and back to relief.

  “I met this little deaf girl during summer camp.” Grace shook her head. “She’s hell-on-wheels, but I’ve been making some progress with her.”

  “I know all about Cherry.” What she wanted to add was “and I don’t see anything you can do for her. You should let the Cherry stuff go, don’t you think?” Somehow she mustered the strength to keep quiet.

  “I found a bruise on her arm this week.” Fresh tears glistened in Grace’s eyes. “And the school nurse found another one on her back.” Grace lowered her face to her hands, her voice becoming muffled and painfully sad. “CPS took her.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry, Gracie.”

  “And did I tell you I’m back in school?” Grace rested her chin back on her knees. “Yep. Forty years old and a school girl again.”

  Quinlan raised her eyebrows. “I heard about this.”

  “I want to be a special needs counselor.” Grace drew circles in the sand with her finger. “Or a social worker, something where I can make a difference.”

  “But what about Hannah and Josh? And why would you want to work? Adam’s always been a good provider.” Quinlan was rambling. She grabbed her iPod and shook it. Dang thing never works when I want it to. “You need to be hearing my inspired thoughts!”

  “You just noticed her quiet strength. Remember…to give back, you have to be a good listener,” the voice said through the ear buds. “Hear what she’s saying.”

  Quinlan bit her tongue, literally, working to quiet her mind…and keep her trap shut. How quickly she had forgotten.

  “Much better,” the voice commended.

  “My life just felt so empty after you died,” Grace said. “I wanted to do something useful.” She reached inside the bag and brought out her mother’s Gift From The Sea. “You’ve read this, what, a thousand times? You must know how I feel.” She opened the book and read the passage about intention and living in grace.

  Quinlan closed her eyes and listened to Gracie read the familiar words. She had forgotten how Lindbergh’s thoughts could float through the air with their own directional force. “You know, that’s how you got your name.”

  “Is that where my name came from? Something else I never thought to ask.” Grace closed the small worn book. “I think I’ve finally found my purity of intention. And you know what else? #2’s gone. I’m standing on my own now.” Grace laughed. “The pansy-ass isn’t running the show anymore.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, she had truly heard Gracie express what was in her heart. She wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Who’s #2? And what’s a pansy-ass?”

  Grace hunched her shoulders and closed her eyes. “Hmmm,” she sighed with a long drawn out release of air. “I love coming here to talk to you. It’s almost like you’re sitting beside me.”

  CHAPTER 43

  QUINLAN AND ANGELA

  Quinlan fished out the phone jingling in her pocket.

  “Report card time,” Ruby said.

  “Are you serious?” Quinlan’s anxiety shot upward. “I’m being graded?”

  “Keep your shorts on Matilda. It’s just your weekly report,” Ruby replied. “Geez, panic city.”

  Quinlan let out a sigh. “Don’t scare me like that.” A grade on her performance? Not something she’d want on her permanent record.

  “Hey Eddie!” Ruby yelled through gum chomps. “Guess who I’m talking to?” Slight pause. “The head honcho. Yeah, el commando. Come over here. He wants to talk to ya.” Ruby’s laugh, mischievous.

  “Ruby!” Quinlan barked. “Stop that immediately. I told you to leave that poor boy alone.”

  “No,” Ruby said, drawing out the negative. “You told me to be nice.” She let out another laugh. “And that’s my nice.”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Quinlan said. “Teasing Edward that way.”

  “I know. It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Ruby’s voice nowhere near serious. “But, he’s so easy. I can’t help myself.”

  Quick to shoot back, Quinlan said, “I don’t see the Advisory Council finding that—”

  “Okay.” Ruby cleared her throat. “Enough about me.”

  A smile moved across Quinlan face. She’d hit the intended nerve.

  “Now, where were we?” The familiar smack sounded louder than usual. “Oh yeah.”

  She could hear Ruby flip through her little spiral notepad.

  “Question time.”

  Oh, not again, Quinlan thought.

  “Here’s the question.” Ruby took on her authoritarian voice. “What have you learned?”

  “You asked that one already, Ruby. Turn the page.”

  “I-know-that.” Ruby drew out each word. “And for your information, Missy, this is a new page. New report, same question.”

  “What have I learned?” Quinlan searched the ceiling for a Cliff Notes answer. “How many times do I have to hear that question?”

  “Got me,” Ruby said. “Like I told ya, I don’t make the rules.” Chomp. “Hey, did you see the Sox whip the Astros?”

  “The Astros didn’t play the White Sox this year,” Quinlan said.

  “Very good! I thought I had ya for sure on that one.” Ruby sounded impressed.

  “So, I’m supposed to tell you what I’ve learned?”

  Ruby switched back to her serious voice. “Actually, I think it’s kind of a study question.”

  “Just as well,” Quinlan said. “It’d take way too long to answer.”

  ~~~

  According to the Earth calendar, Quinlan figured she’d been back about a month. She’d sat through a couple of Grace’s classes, lost her voice yelling at the line judge at one of Hannah’s volleyball games, and watched with shocked approval as Gracie purchased a beautiful abalone shell to hold the twin sea beans. She was equally impressed observing Gracie’s skill working with Cherry. The child had been placed with foster parents and, according to Gracie’s written report, the dark circles under Cherry’s eyes had disappeared and she no longer fell asleep in class. Her hair, once a tangled web, was reportedly well brushed and neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Her clothes, although worn, were clean and pressed. And the lethal cowboy boots had been replaced by Vans Hello Kitty slip-ons. A marked improvement in her temperament had also been noted.

  Quinlan watched Gracie’s confidence and performance levels climb to incredible heights with the exception of one area…cooking: and, to be more specific, Thanksgiving dinner. Although managing to throw a meal together to keep her kids fed, which Quinlan had to give her points for, Gracie’s performance and presentation of the culinary art…sucked.

  Shopping for the “big” meal had been a disaster of monumental proportions. The first disturbing fact, the trip to the store didn’t take place until the day before Thanksgiving, leaving Gracie with slim-pickings due to the numerous empty out-of-stock shelves. The second was Quinlan’s futile attempt to unload the junk and processed food tossed in the cart, which result
ed in empty arm-flapping movements like a pelican stuck in tar. She tried the mother glare, followed by the mother tone, but got nothing. And third, she used every medium in her blue iPod to prevent the most unforgivable of all faux pax…Stove Top Stuffing. Had she not taught her daughter anything? And the packaged brown’n serve rolls? All the makings for a perfect storm.

  “Stupid, stupid iPod.” She yanked out the earpieces, shoved them in her pocket and tried to reach Gracie the old-fashioned way, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Gracie, you can’t serve dressing out of a box! And where the hell is your list?” Quinlan glanced upward and mouthed a silent Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. This shopping fiasco was disturbing on so many levels.

  “Mom would have a coronary,” Grace giggled, unloading her stash at the register. “I’m shopping without a list…I love it.”

  ~~~

  To add to Quinlan’s surprise, Grace had invited people over for the Thanksgiving event, exhibiting an even higher level of self-confidence. Quinlan sat with her head in her hands when Grace brought out paper plates and plastic silverware. However the meal, to Quinlan’s astonishment, turned out to be a success even though the gravy came out of a jar and the turkey and pecan pie had come from Luby’s Cafeteria. A tub of Country Crock sat on the dining room table for the burned-on-the-bottom brown ’n serve rolls and the dressing…well, what could you say about dressing out of a box? The centerpiece candles were never lit and Grace, taking the seat at the head of the table, looked relaxed and happy. Everyone had a good time. How was that possible?

  ~~~

  “It’s time to go back.” Quinlan heard the words in her head. Were they hers? She couldn’t tell these days. If “they” wanted to get information to her it didn’t matter whether the dang media device was turned on or not.

  “It’s time to go back.” Quinlan repeated the phrase to Angela as they sipped tea in the Commons area.

  “I agree,” Angela responded.

  “No one listens to me,” Quinlan said in an Eeyore-ish voice. “I’m not needed anymore.”

  “Oh please,” Angela said, drawing out the last word.

  “Just kidding.” Quinlan ran her finger around the rim of her teacup. “I just thought it would be different, that’s all.”

  “How so?”

  “Well for one thing, Kathryn got a lot more respect than Quinlan, that’s for sure.”

  Angela raised her head and laughed. “I have to say, you are a hoot! I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed so much.”

  Quinlan’s eyes plunged to her lap.

  “Oh, lighten up,” Angela said.

  “Go ahead, laugh,” Quinlan said. “I’m sure you won’t be the first.”

  “Or the last.” Angela sucked in her lips. “Sorry, honestly I couldn’t help that one.”

  She half-smiled, half-frowned. “I never allowed her to think for herself, did I? Or fail…or even succeed.”

  Angela’s tone turned serious. “She’s found her wings.”

  “I know,” Quinlan huffed. “Time to say goodbye?”

  “Only to the physical part, remember?” Angela said. “And when you do you let go of your own ‘darkness.’”

  She sniffed and pulled a Kleenex from her pocket. “But what about the Stove Top Stuffing?”

  Angela picked up her cup. “Yeah, say goodbye to that too.”

  Quinlan blew her nose and sipped her own tea, now lukewarm. Angela was right. Time to say goodbye. The realization didn’t make her feel sad as she expected. Actually, it was comforting in a way. The fact Gracie didn’t need her anymore was a good thing. She straightened her back and raised her eyes to Angela. “It’s time to go back.”

  ~~~

  Angela sat in her comfortable office chair, sighed deeply, and pushed *5 on her phone.

  “Yes, Angela,” Mary responded.

  “We’ve got a mission complete.”

  “Well done,” Mary said. “Have you set a return time?

  “It can be arranged shortly,” Angela said. “I don’t see anything standing in the way.”

  “We applaud your work,” Mary said. “Oh, and your rum raisin bread pudding has been met with high praise.”

  Angela beamed. “Did I ever tell you how much I love that part of my job?” She ended the call and twirled a full circle in her chair. “Wow. It’s done.”

  CHAPTER 44

  QUINLAN

  Quinlan spent her last night with Grace, Josh, Hannah and Jennifer watching Ice Age on Netflix. When the movie ended the kids fixed bowls of popcorn and headed upstairs.

  “Sleep tight, dear ones,” Quinlan said, watching them disappear. “If you ever need me, just holler.” She turned to find Grace returning from the kitchen with a glass of wine. She watched her daughter take a sip, sit the stemmed glass on the coffee table, and drop down on the couch beside her.

  “Don’t you think you need a….” Quinlan hit her own mute button before the word coaster escaped. She winced and looked up. “Sorry. I’m trying.” Quinlan regrouped. “What I want to say, Gracie, is I’m so happy you’re happy. I went about this parenting thing all wrong. I’m sorry about that. And this trip didn’t turn out at all how I expected….” she paused, “but I’m guessing that’s a good thing. There, I said it. I don’t have all the answers.”

  Reaching over to the side table Grace grabbed a coaster and placed it under her glass.

  She straightened, stared at the coaster and then back at Grace. “Can you hear me?”

  Grace picked up the remote and flipped through channels.

  “If you can hear me,” Quinlan said, “touch your nose.”

  Grace stifled a yawn and took another sip of wine, replacing the glass on the coffee table. She pulled her hair back away from her face and secured it in a ponytail with a covered rubber band on her wrist. She reached up and scratched her nose.

  Quinlan’s mouth fell open. She quickly slammed it shut. “I’m supposed to say goodbye,” Quinlan said, her voice shaky. “But it’s not goodbye. You know that, don’t you?”

  Grace stopped channel surfing.

  “I’ll…be…right…here.” ET touched Elliot’s forehead with an extraterrestrial finger the exact moment Quinlan’s finger touched her daughter’s chest. Grace’s hand moved upward and covered her heart, her eyes glistening.

  Pulling her finger back, Quinlan checked to see if it glowed red. She wiped her own tears away. “Wow. Now that’s just cool.”

  ~~~

  The next morning, her bag packed, Quinlan stood at the curb outside her living quarters.

  “I will be your return escort, ma’am,” a familiar voice said.

  “Eddie!” Quinlan said. “I mean…Edward. Hey, congratulations. I hear you got your green parachute.”

  “Are you ready ma’am?”

  “Yes I am.” How could she forget Eddie’s no-nonsense personality? “Here’s my bag.” She had mentally and physically prepared for the return trip, choosing to wear a cargo vest and camouflage flight pants. She had secured her wad of Kleenex and Catwoman blue eyeglasses in one of her many pockets. She wanted to be prepared for anything.

  “Do you have your eyeglasses?” Eddie asked.

  “Got’em.” Quinlan said.

  “ID bracelet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gold card?”

  “Yes, Eddie. I packed everything.”

  “What about your iPod?” Eddie asked.

  Quinlan stopped. “I gave it to Bridget. I didn’t think—”

  “Just kidding.” A trace of a grin broke across Eddie’s face.

  “I knew it! You do have a sense of humor.” Eddie so needed to lighten up.

  He took the bag from Quinlan. “I assume you’re ready?”

  “You mean from right here?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Eddie, conducting himself as a seasoned and accomplished escort, retrieved his over-sized calculator and pressed several buttons. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  ~~~
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  In the blink of an eye Quinlan found herself at the corner of Moon Shell Drive, facing the backside of her old friend Ruby. Meghan’s house was only steps away. Wow, I’m back, she thought. No cannon. No parachute!

  “Hello there.” Quinlan said gently, trying not to startle Ruby. It didn’t work.

  The over-sized woman jumped then swung around. “You’re back!” Ruby grabbed Quinlan in her over-exuberant bear hug, Juicy Fruit fumes hung in the air. “They didn’t tell me. Just said be here at three o’clock. So, whad’ya know!”

  “How are you, Ruby?” Quinlan returned the hug as best she could with her arms pinned to her side, surprised how genuinely good it felt to see Ruby and her blue-tinted sunglasses.

  “Fine. Fine. Couldn’t be better,” Ruby answered, releasing Quinlan. “Hey, look at those pants, will ya? I’d kill for a pair of those.” As the words left her mouth she sucked in her lips, her eyes rounded. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Quinlan waved aside the remark. “I thought you’d like them so I brought you back a pair.”

  “For real?” Ruby chomped.

  She reached in her bag and pulled out a pair of camouflage pants, identical to hers with the exception of the XXL label.

  “Ah man. These are so cool!” Ruby moved in for another vice-grip embrace.

  Quinlan held her hands up, blocking the suffocating gesture. “No Ruby, you’re cool.”

  Ruby rocked back and forth on her heels, beaming. “So…how was the return trip?”

  “Great.” Quinlan snapped her fingers. “Nothing to it.”

  “Who was your escort?” Ruby asked.

  “Eddie.”

  Ruby looked around. “Then where is he?”

  Quinlan turned and realized Eddie was nowhere in sight. “I have no idea.”

  “Uh-oh.” Ruby shook her head. “No telling where he is.”

  “You’re exaggerating, aren’t you? Quinlan asked. “You did say he’d been promoted.”