Saving Grace

by J. M. Hill

  “Yes, I do. I’ve wanted to tell you since Thanksgiving.”

  He took a deep breath. “I care about you a great deal…”

  I felt nauseous, because I knew what he was going to say next.

  “It’s okay,” I told him quickly. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “I just,” he stammered. “I really care about you and our friendship but—”

  “Michael,” I interrupted him, I didn’t want him to finish. I couldn’t bear it. I had to get out of the car before I got sick. “It’s okay. Really.”

  It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay.

  I grabbed my purse and started to open the door, but he grasped my wrist.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said shaking his head. “I just—you don’t know—”

  “Please,” I said, the sob building in my throat. “Let’s just forget about this please?” I pulled my hand away, and opened the door, trying to get out of the car as quickly as possible.

  “Do you want to run in the morning?” His voice was desperate.

  I avoided eye contact, my voice shaking now. “No. I should probably help Kate with breakfast. I’ll see you then.” I closed the door and ran up the steps to the front door, unlocking it quickly and closing it behind me.

  When I got to my room, I tried not to think as I got ready for bed. I crawled slowly onto the middle of my bed, pulling my knees to my chest, replaying what happened over and over in my head, until it felt like my heart was breaking into a hundred different pieces.

  There was a soft knock on my door.

  “Gracie?” Garrett called. “Can I come in?”

  I didn’t answer, I just sat there.

  “I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.” The door opened, and Garrett stood there for a moment. He closed the door behind him and stepped toward my bed. “What happened?”

  I shrugged, not looking at him. “He doesn’t want me.”

  Did I say that out loud? I felt so strange, like I’d been punched in the stomach. My chest ached, and I was trying not to cry.

  “He told you that?”

  “No. He didn’t say those words. But, I told him how I felt, and he said he was sorry.” I felt the tears coming. “He didn’t have to say it. He just doesn’t want me.”

  I was crying now, and I hated it because I knew Garrett couldn’t stand to see me cry. He pried my hands from around my knees and brought me with him as he sat down on the chair, pulling me onto his lap. I hugged his neck and sobbed, wishing the ache would stop.

  Garrett didn’t say anything—just rubbed my back softly and let me cry. After a while, I got up and went into my bathroom to blow my nose. Garrett patted the ottoman, and I sat down in front of him. He rubbed his face with both hands and leaned back into the chair.

  “What happened?”

  I recounted the conversation with Michael, how it started about Nina, how he told me he was sorry, but he just couldn’t…I wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to end that sentence, but I told Garrett I didn’t want to know.

  “I’ve ruined everything. He won’t even be my friend now.”

  Garrett folded his hands behind his head with a calm expression, though his eyes were sad.

  “You haven’t ruined anything, Gracie.”

  “Yes I have,” I argued. “It’s going to be uncomfortable, especially for me. I told myself I’d tell him how I felt and it didn’t matter what he said because I just wanted him to know. But it does matter because he doesn’t feel the same. Now I’m humiliated, and he probably doesn’t even want to be around me anymore.”

  Another tear came down my face and I swiped at it angrily. Garrett leaned forward and held both of my hands in his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I really am, but listen to me, you just keep doing what you’ve always done.”

  I sniffled. “What do you mean?”

  “You just keep being our Gracie.” He smiled weakly. “Keep doing your thing, Michael will see soon enough.”

  I wanted desperately to believe what he said, but I was hurting too much. Garrett stood and kissed the top of my head softly.

  “Love you, Gracie-Beth.”

  I watched him leave my room, closing the door behind him. I climbed under my covers, turned off my lamp, and as I laid my head on my pillow the tears came again. It wasn’t long before Kate’s arms came around me, causing me to cry even more.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She held me for a long time, and eventually I fell asleep, Kate’s arms still around me.

  I woke up and rolled over to check the time, it was almost eight o’clock. Even though I’d told Michael I wasn’t going to run, the idea of running sounded really good to me. My head pounded relentlessly as I made my way to the bathroom slowly. I flipped on the light and studied my reflection in the mirror.

  Scary.

  My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, my face blotchy. I brushed my teeth, and washed my face, got dressed in black running pants and pink fleece, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Kate was busy in the kitchen, when she saw me she came over and kissed my cheek.

  “Morning.” She tried to smile. “Enjoy your run.”

  As I walked down the porch steps toward the gravel drive I resisted the urge to look over at the Anderson’s door fighting between wanting to see Michael, and dreading that I would. I put the earbuds in and searched for a playlist on my iPod as I walked. From the corner of my eye I saw him, standing in the front window of their house. My heart sank, and I started my run without looking at him.

  I kept the volume of my music loud to keep from thinking about anything, and it worked. My feet pounded a strong, steady rhythm against the pavement and as my muscles worked, my mind cleared. When I approached the house I saw the familiar red Porsche, Michael and Nina standing there, and nausea returned. They both turned when they saw me, and I quickly focused on the ground, pretending not to see them.

  When I opened the door, the aroma of coffee and bananas wafted over me.

  “Hey, Gracie,” Garrett greeted me from the table with his dimply smile, but his smile left quickly as I approached him—probably noticing my puffy, red eyes.

  “You have time for a shower if you want,” Kate told me. “We’re not quite ready.”

  I went to my room, showered and dressed, braided my hair loosely, and put makeup on, attempting to cover the ugliness my emotional break-down caused.

  Stupid red eyes.

  When I walked into the kitchen, Michael was standing beside the fridge, and I felt my body tense. Quickly, I turned to the cupboard to get a cup. I felt him step behind me and nausea returned full force.

  “I thought you weren’t going to run this morning,” he said quietly.

  Without looking at him, I shrugged and poured myself some coffee. “Changed my mind.”

  When I started for the fridge to get cream, Michael held the carton out to me.

  “Thanks.” I added the cream and sweetener to my cup, stirring quickly. I could feel him watching me, and as much as I wanted to look at him, I didn’t.

  “I think we should talk, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I said. “There’s nothing to say, and I’d much rather forget about the whole thing.”

  “Really?” he asked incredulously. “Is that true?”

  “Yes.” It was the truth. I was humiliated, and now I was angry he was pushing the issue further.

  “What if I want to talk about it?” he said, stepping closer to me.

  “We’re ready to eat,” Kate announced.

  Relieved, I turned away from him and went to the table. I cringed at my usual seat between Michael and Garrett. I walked around the table and started to pull my chair out, but Michael was there, doing it for me. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Did he not understand how embarrassing this was for me?

  I ate rather quickly, not really paying attention to the conversation, and got up to take my plate to the sink. />
  “So, little brother,” I heard Garrett say. “What was Nina doing at the house so early this morning?”

  I resisted the urge to look at Michael, not to mention the sudden urge to vomit, as I waited for Michael’s response.

  “She was picking up drawings for the L.A. building,” Michael replied.

  It was quiet, and I returned to the table to pick up everyone’s plates. Michael stood with his plate, and walked to the sink where I was rinsing. He always helped me do the dishes, and I always enjoyed that, but now I felt tense. We were both quiet as we worked, and he continued to help me until everything was done. The others were still sitting at the table, drinking coffee and talking. I wandered into the living room and sat on the sofa, turning on the television. Michael sat down next to me, and I kept turning the channels trying to find something to watch, wishing I was better at acting casual.

  “Are you ever going to look at me again?” His voice was quiet.

  I looked at him then, mostly to prove I could, but when our eyes met I looked away, embarrassed.

  “Grace,” he said. “I feel terrible about last night. I think we should talk.”

  I shrugged. “You don’t need to feel terrible. I’m fine.”

  “If you were fine, you would look at me.”

  I sighed, keeping my eyes down, knowing he was right.

  “Okay, I’m not fine,” I admitted. “But I will be, I just don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, maybe I do want to talk about it.”

  When I looked at him he was scowling. I scowled right back at him, folding my arms across my chest. Why was he angry? He wasn’t allowed to be angry.

  “Grace, I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

  “You haven’t, but I just can’t pretend like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed. “But how can I fix this if we don’t talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to fix,” I corrected him. “I told you, everything will be fine.”

  He ran his hand through his hair with exasperation.

  “At least let me explain why—”

  “You can’t help feeling the way you feel,” I interrupted him. “There’s no explanation needed.”

  “But—”

  I stood up, and glared down at him, wishing he would just drop it.

  “Please just leave it alone.” My voice shook. “I’m sorry I ever said anything, it was stupid. This is my problem not yours.”

  He stood, and glared down at me. The others were quiet as they watched.

  “How can you say that?” he fumed. “How can you say that to me?”

  “I can say that, because it was me that ruined everything by being honest with you in the first place.”

  His jaw clenched. “You are the most stubborn…frustrating…” His hand raked through his hair demonstrating his irritation. “So, you just want to leave it alone, huh?”

  The last thing I wanted was to fight with him. This wasn’t his fault.

  “Michael, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you.” My throat tightened as his expression softened. “Please believe me, I’m not angry with you or anything you said. You were being honest with me. I can’t be upset with you for being honest.”

  His eyes were full of remorse, and I felt the ache in my chest return.

  “I’m so sorry that I made you feel badly or guilty about anything. This is not your fault, and everything will be fine.” I tried to smile. “I just want things to be like they were before…before I said anything.”

  “I’m not sure things will ever be like they were before,” Michael said quietly.

  I’d thought my heart had broken so much, it couldn’t possibly break any more, but I was wrong. The pain returned. It was just as I’d feared; my honesty ruined our friendship. My eyes became blurred with tears.

  “I understand.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  “No you don’t understand,” he said. “Because you won’t let me explain anything.”

  I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

  “Um,” I stammered. “I need to go.” I walked past him to my room, grabbing my coat and purse, and then back to the kitchen to get the car keys.

  “Gracie?” Kate said. “Where are you going?”

  “I just remembered something I forgot to do at the shop yesterday, I’ll be right back.”

  She started to say something, but I shook my head minutely and she responded with a nod. I needed to leave, and she knew it. Michael followed me to the door and put his hand on top of mine causing me to tremble.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said quietly.

  I kept my eyes down as I opened the door and hurried to the jeep, climbing in and starting the engine. Michael watched from the porch as I backed out of the driveway and pulled away.

  Emotions took over once I was on the main road, and I was bawling. Of course there was nothing for me to do at the shop, but there was really nowhere else for me to go either. I unlocked the front door and went inside, locking it behind me, and walked back to the office. I flipped the light on, and sat at my desk, taking deep breaths to stop the tears.

  Why was this so hard? Miles and Kate knew they loved each other right away. Maybe I just needed to come to the realization that Michael and I were only supposed to be friends, and he really wasn’t the one for me. With that thought, I laid my head on the desk and sobbed, my heart breaking again.

  I felt guilty for getting so angry with Michael. After all, he couldn’t help the way he felt, and I knew I was feeling sorry for myself. I sat in the office for a while, not really paying attention to the time. The longer I sat, the more I felt ashamed for being such a baby.

  “Grace?”

  I jumped out of my seat, and Miles stood at the office door, smiling apologetically.

  “You scared the crap out of me,” I muttered.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you’d hear me come in.” He twirled his car keys around his finger as he watched me. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Of course you can.”

  He pulled a chair over and sat down across from me. I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. I don’t know why I was nervous, Miles never made me nervous, but I had a feeling whatever he wanted to tell me wasn’t going to be good.

  “Kate’s worried about you,” he said.

  “I’m okay. I just needed to leave for a minute that’s all.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s not yours either,” he said. “My brother…wouldn’t want me to say anything, and I would never want to betray his trust—”

  “I would never want you to,” I interrupted him.

  He smiled knowingly. “I want you to know, you’re wrong about him.”

  My thoughts began to spiral in ten different directions with Miles’ words.

  “Grace, it’s not my place to tell you what’s happened, but he cares for you a great deal.”

  I sighed. “I know he cares for me, Miles. The problem is I care for him more than he does for me.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you,” he said assuredly. “Like I said, it’s not my place to say anything, but you’re wrong about how he feels about you. Trust me.”

  I trusted Miles completely, but I was confused and the ache in my chest remained. Miles reached for my hands holding them tightly.

  “I wish there was something I could do for you.”

  As I looked into his eyes, I was overcome with the warmth and understanding they held, and I could smile then.

  “You do something for me every day, Miles. You love Kate. You make her happier than I’ve ever seen her and that’s saying a lot.”

  He smiled widely and stood, pulling me into a tight hug which caused more tears to come.

  “I love you, Grace. You know that, right?”

  I nodded again
st his chest.

  “Please give my little brother a chance,” he said. “I know it’s not easy for you, but when he’s ready, he’ll explain.”

  I sniffled. “Okay.”

  “Let’s get back,” he said, and handed me the keys, following me to the front of the office. He started to open the door, and I cleared my throat.

  “Miles?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you, too.”

  The following week was quiet. I didn’t see Michael at all, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I missed him. I missed our talks, his face, his laugh, everything. I was miserable.

  Garrett and I spent time together when he wasn’t working, Kate always invited me to tag-along with her and Miles, but that only made me feel pathetic. Basically, I was working. A lot.

  On Tuesday afternoon I had my nose in a book, waiting for four o’clock to come around so I could leave. The low growling of a motorcycle caused me to look up. I watched as Evan parked his motorcycle in the front of the store and removed his helmet before coming inside.

  “Nice ride, man.” Kenny gawked from behind the counter.

  “Thanks, Kenny.” Evan unzipped his leather jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a motorcycle-type guy,” I said with a smirk.

  “Why? Because I’m a doctor?” His cheeks were rosy from the wind, and he smiled widely. “Doctors have to let loose every now and then, our job is very stressful you know.”

  “I’ll bet. Especially working in an E.R. where people come in with broken legs, arms and faces because of motorcycles.”

  He laughed, and sat down across from me. “I’ve never dealt with a broken face. Besides, until you ride one, don’t knock it.”

  “Is it new?”

  “Yep.” He smiled proudly. “Does it make me look cool?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “You’re still a doctor.”

  He pursed his lips together, and I giggled.

  “Can I get you something, Evan?” Kenny asked.

  “Just a coffee. Regular.”

  We sat for a while, sipping coffee and talking and even though my heart still ached for Michael, I found myself comfortable with Evan.