by Jet MacLeod
Grace snapped awake at the sounds coming from the guest room. Reagan was screaming, but at what Gracie didn’t know. She hurriedly put on a pair of boxers and a white “wife-beater” tank top. Grace was out her own bedroom door and in the guest room before she thought about what she was doing. She just knew that she head Reagan cry out and it sounded like pain. She wanted to make the pain go away. The screams were scaring Gracie.
She lay down next to Reagan, who was still thrashing in the bed. Gracie couldn’t understand how Reagan’s screams didn’t wake Reagan. She gathered Reagan up in her arms. She pulled Reagan close. Reagan only fought her for a minute and then succumbed to the warmth and protection that Grace was offering. Grace thought it was strange that Reagan didn’t wake in her arms, right then, but she let it go and drifted off. Grace fell asleep on top of the covers, holding Reagan, but she wished she was under the sheets with Reagan. There was something about the way that Reagan felt in her arms. It just felt so right.
Reagan awoke sometime later in the night and found herself in the arms of Gracie. She had another nightmare. She wondered if she’d woken up Gracie in the night with her whimpers and whines. She could only hope that she hadn’t. She was just happy that Gracie was there, now with her. She felt protected and loved, again.
She smiled and snuggled closer, craving the warmth and the scent of Gracie next to her. She knew that she would probably feel different about it in the morning but for right now, she didn’t care. She was tired, and no longer scared. She had Grace there to protect her from the evils of her dreams and, now, that was all that mattered. She would deal with anything else in the morning.
Chapter Sixteen
Gracie woke up disoriented. She didn’t recognize the room that she was in, nor did she remember getting drunk. She hoped that she didn’t do anything stupid, again. She looked to her left and found Reagan cuddled up with her. Grace smiled and realized what she’d done in the middle of the night. She remembered waking to the screams that Reagan let out and going to the guest room to hold her, to comfort Reagan, so that she would get some sleep. Grace hadn’t planned on falling asleep there, but she didn’t really mind it.
She rolled away from Reagan to see the bed side clock. It read seven thirty. She wondered what time Reagan had to be at work when she noticed that the alarm hadn’t been activated. Grace was unsure how she should wake Reagan up, but decided that she needed to do it before she was late.
“Reagan,” Gracie said, nudging her slightly.
Reagan made a noise that sounded like a moan. She turned over and backed up into Grace’s reclining body on the bed. Gracie knew that it was going to be a battle to get her to wake, then. Grace didn’t want to scare her, but knew that she needed to get up. Grace shook her a little harder this time.
“Five more minutes, Mom, I promise,” Reagan said in sleep.
Grace stopped. She knew that Reagan’s mother was dead. She didn’t know what to say in response. She decided to shake it off and shake her again, hoping this time that Reagan would awake.
“Reagan,” Grace said, shaking her more violently.
“Huh? What? Oh, did I miss something?” Reagan said, drowsily.
“Nope, I don’t think so, just maybe your alarm.”
“Can’t miss something that you didn’t set,” Reagan said.
She snuggled back down into the covers. She pulled the pillows up around her head and resituated herself in the bed. She pulled the sheet over her head.
“Good night,” Reagan called to Grace from under the covers.
“Umm, you sure? I mean I’ll let you sleep if you want, but I am getting up. You can stay as long as you want, Reagan, I want you to know that,” Grace told the reclined and covered form.
“Thanks,” the muffled answer came from under the sheets.
“You’re welcome,” Grace said, getting up from the bed, “It really is a beautiful morning. I wish you would get up and greet it. It is amazing.”
Reagan grunted from under the sheet but didn’t make a move to exit the bed. Grace smiled and shook her head. She knew one way to get Reagan up and that was her belly. Grace made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. She decided that if she wanted to get Reagan out of bed, she needed leverage and breakfast was going to be it. No woman had ever been able to turn down one of her breakfasts, ever, and, Grace wasn’t about to Reagan be the first.
The smell of something sweet and spicy made Reagan crawl out from under the covers. She couldn’t put a name to it, but she couldn’t believe that Gracie was cooking breakfast. It just didn’t seem like something that Grace would do. Reagan sat up in the bed and pondered what she should do. Should she go downstairs and investigate? Or, should she stay in the warm and cozy bed? She glanced at the bed side radio clock and saw the bright red numbers telling her it was close to eight. She decided that she should get up. Even if she didn’t go to the office, she didn’t need to stay in bed all day. It wouldn't look right, especially, not being in her own home.
She stood up, grabbed the robe that she’d had the night before and made her way downstairs. She stopped dead in the door way of the kitchen when she was Gracie. Grace didn’t see her and for the moment, Reagan was happy for that. She could see Grace dancing and singing to the small radio that was playing in the kitchen while she cooked up something on the stove. Reagan watched her for a while, smiling.
Grace put some more of the egg soaked bread in the skillet and she sang to the radio. She watched it sizzle and cook before her as she crooned on and danced. She shook the pan of sausage on the back burner making sure that it wasn’t sticking to the pan. She spun around to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk. She spun back around to the stove, but this time she spun backwards. It was on the spin back to the stove that she noticed that Reagan was standing in the doorway watching her make breakfast. She silently thought to herself, ‘It’s my cooking. It always works. I don’t know why they try to resist me or my cooking.”
“How long you been there?” Grace asked, resuming her breakfast ritual.
“Long enough to know that you are making French toast and sausage,” Reagan said.
“That all?” Grace questioned, smiling.
“Yeah, that and you can’t sing in the early morning. Remind me never to take you to karaoke night at the Closet. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s ears that bad,” Reagan stated.
Grace acted like she was going to throw the French toast batter at Reagan, before she poured a little more milk into the concoction. She pulled out another skillet and proceeded to pour the mixture in it. She spun back around to the fridge and traded the milk for some shredded cheese. She added that to the skillet and put it back in the fridge.
“Hope you’re hungry. I’ve made enough to feed an army. Sit down and I’ll bring you a plate,” Grace commanded.
“Yes, ma’am,” Reagan said in sarcastic allegiance.
“Coffee or juice and milk?” Grace asked.
“Juice and milk will be fine. I don’t need that big of a jolt to get me going in the morning. Plus, caffeine makes me jittery,” Reagan answered.
“That big of a jolt? Woman, you wouldn’t get up if a bomb went off beside you. The only reason you got out of bed was your stomach,” Grace teased.
“Not true,” Reagan stated.
“Well, we see what got you to get up and come downstairs, don’t we?” Grace teased.
“Well, in that case, I guess I’ll get back to bed, then,” Reagan retorted.
“If you want, but no French toast for you, then,” Grace said.
“Serve it up. How did you know that I love French toast? Got any syrup?” Reagan asked.
“Didn’t know. Yeah, it’s in the fridge, I’ll get it for you. Just sit down and I’ll bring you a plate,” Grace told Reagan, shooing her out of the cooking area.
“Fine,” Reagan said in mock defiance.
Grace plated two slices of the French toast, sprinkled some extra cinnamon and then some powdered sugar on top of the slices. She then added some
links of the sausage that she fried up and some of the eggs that she made. She turned to the fridge and grabbed the strawberry and raspberry syrup. She sat the plate down in front on Reagan and watched her eyes get big.
“No maple syrup?” Reagan questioned.
“Don’t believe in the stuff. I only use fruity syrups. If you want maple, you’re going to have to go get it. By then, your food will be cold and not good,” Grace stated.
“Fruity works for me,” Reagan said, looking over the two flavored syrups.
Grace laughed and went back to the stove to make herself a plate. She served herself some of the French toast and covered it with cinnamon and powdered sugar. She plated some of the eggs and sausage. She took her plate to the table and sat down with Reagan, who was by then feasting on what was before her.
“No biscuits?” Reagan asked.
“Nope, there is enough fiber and starch on your plate as it is,” Grace answered.
Grace grabbed her fork and started on the breakfast before her. She knew that Reagan could eat by what she’d piled away the night before at Dianne’s. It amazed Grace that Reagan could eat that much. It was then that Grace realized that the way to Reagan’s heart was through her stomach. She laughed inwardly when she thought this.
“What’s so funny/” Reagan asked.
“Nothing, ‘Little Bit,’ nothing at all,” Grace said.
“Little bit?”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Does it bother you?” Grace asked.
“Not coming from you, actually. Anyone else would have been slapped for the comment. So, count yourself lucky that I like you, Gracie Lynn, or it could have been disastrous for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Grace said.
“Do that,” Reagan teased.
They both laughed. Grace had to admit that it was nice having Reagan at her table in the morning. It didn’t bother her to think about it, either. A few weeks ago, even, and Grace would have gone nuts with the thoughts that she was having about Reagan. Now, she couldn’t care less. She was happy that Reagan was in her home. She was happy that Reagan was sharing breakfast with her. She was happy that she had Reagan in her life. She could actually see herself falling in love with Reagan and it didn’t scare her. She didn’t mind the feelings. She was actually happy, again, and it didn’t scare her. She’d let Reagan inside her defenses and she didn’t care.
Reagan cleaned her plate. She sopped up the last little bit of syrup on her plate with the last bites of her French toast. She looked over at Grace, who was taking her time eating her plateful of food. Reagan smiled a very shy smile and then looked up at Grace.
“What?” Grace asked her.
“You going to eat that?” Reagan asked in response.
“Yep, why you still hungry?”
“A little, yeah,” Reagan replied.
“What do you want? I have more,” Grace stated.
“Whatever, I am not picky. It was all very delicious. But, if you have any more of the eggs, I would like some of them,” Reagan answered.
“Not a problem,” Grace said, scooping up Reagan’s plate and heading back into the kitchen to serve her up some more food.
“A girl could get used to this,” Reagan said, a little more out loud than she wanted.
“What?” Grace asked.
“Nothing,” Reagan stammered, realizing that she said the comment out loud.
“You sure?” Grace asked, knowing what she’d heard.
“Yep, it was nothing. Just thinking out loud. Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for” Grace said, putting the plate back in front of Reagan, “There is more if you want. Don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I won’t. Trust me on that one. I won’t when it comes to food.”
They finished the meal. The small talk didn’t seem so small between them. They actually seemed to be enjoying themselves together. It didn’t seem like they weren’t dating and that made Grace happy. She didn’t like uncomfortable situations and she was afraid that she would always be in when it came to Reagan. She still couldn’t fathom how fast she had come to enjoy the company of the smaller woman. She knew that sometimes when God closed a door, he opens a window. She knew that Atlanta was the door closed and Reagan and Columbia had become her window.
Now all she had to do was convince Reagan a little more that they should be together. She would have to use logic that Reagan understood. She decided she would have to say it was their destiny that they were together now and not back in high school, because this was the time that they were meant to be together.
Grace stood in the kitchen cleaning up her mess from breakfast when Reagan came back into the room. Reagan leaned against the door frame, watching Grace in her domestic “goddess-ness” and had to smile. Reagan was dressed, she was back in the jeans and t-shirt that she was wearing the night before.
“Thanks for last night,” Reagan said, finally.
Grace turned around, still in her boxers and wife beater, and admired the woman leaning against the door frame. She wiped her hands off with a dish towel and threw it up on the counter. She wasn’t sure what was going on in Reagan’s head, and she wasn’t sure what she meant by that comment, either.
“What do you mean? You were the one that took me out, remember? What is there to thank me for?” Grace asked.
“You know,” Reagan said, shyly.
“I am afraid that I don’t. Enlighten me or am I going to have to wonder what is going on in that pretty little head of yours? Reagan, just tell me what you meant,” Gracie stated.
“Thanks for letting me stay over. Thanks for holding me and keeping the nightmares at bay. Thanks for the wonderful breakfast this morning. Thanks for being my friend.”
The last statement almost made Grace wince. She didn’t want to be just Reagan’s friend. She wanted so much more but she was afraid to push anything with Reagan. She wasn’t going to push her, but the fact that Reagan just thanked her for being her friend about made her push Reagan a little.
“It was nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Gracie said and then teasingly continued, “Just don’t make it a habit. I might get used to it.”
“I’ll try not to…make it a habit,” Reagan replied, slightly flustered by Grace’s teasing.
She was happy this morning. She woke up in Grace’s arms. Grace made her breakfast worthy of a queen. Grace wasn’t treating her like a freak or the noisy neighbor, but more like a friend and possibly a lover. Reagan wasn’t quite sure what Grace meant with her teasing, but she wasn’t ready to push onward until she knew that she was ready for a relationship.
“Reagan, I was just kidding. You can stay over anytime you like. I wouldn’t put you out. You can use that room upstairs whenever you need it. I didn’t mean to upset you. I am sorry. Please, don’t be upset,” Grace said, realizing Reagan’s thoughts.
“It’s just that…oh, never mind. I need to go. I need to get to the office and make sure that they haven’t destroyed my company,” Reagan said, obviously flustered.
“Reagan, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am fine. I just need to go. I have too much to do at work today. I’ve put off my day long enough. It is bad enough that it is going to be after ten when I get there,” Reagan said.
“I thought that was why you were the boss,” Grace stated.
“That isn’t the point.”
“Then what is? What’s the point being the boss if you can’t take a day now and again? Doesn’t sound like you run the company but the company runs you,” Grace said, turning back to the dishes in the sink.
Neither one of them knew what happened to the conversation. It just seemed to end there. Grace couldn’t understand why her teasing had upset Reagan so much and Reagan couldn’t understand why she was so upset by Grace’s teasing. Everything seemed to fall apart there for them. And, neither of them seemed to be able to bring it back.
Grace turned away from it, as usual. Reagan stood in the doorway, now, in disbelief, that such pl
ayful banter could cause such a reaction between the two of them. They didn’t know how to deal with their feelings toward one another. Reagan began to think that maybe the date the night before was too much for them. Maybe all the happiness that they shared last night just pushed them over the edge of sanity this morning. At least, that is what Reagan hoped it was.
“I really should be going,” Reagan said, trying to get a response from Grace.
“I am not going to stop you.”
“Grace?”
Grace turned back around. The pain was plainly evident in her icy blue eyes. There was no denying that she was upset because Reagan was.
“Don’t,” Grace said, turning back to the dishes.
“Don’t what?”
“Just don’t. Don’t make this into something that it isn’t. I can’t take it.”
“Grace, I don’t understand.”
Grace didn’t reply. She continued to do the dishes. Grace didn’t trust herself to turn back around. She began rinsing the dishes and putting them in the drain board.
Reagan walked out of the doorway. She had intention of walking out the front door, but something was nagging at her gut. Reagan, instead, walked over to the sink where Grace was washing dishes and circled her arms around Gracie’s waist. She laid her head between Grace’s shoulder blades on Grace’s back. Reagan didn’t know what else to do. Her heart was in command of her now, not her head.
“Reagan?”
“Grace, don’t shut me out.”
“Reagan,” Grace said turning in Reagan’s arms.
“Please, don’t shut me out.”
“Oh, Reagan,” Grace said.
Grace reached down and tipped Reagan’s head back. It was then that Grace saw the tears that were about to spill from Reagan’s eyes. Grace gently wiped them away. She held Reagan’s face in her hands, staring into her eyes, trying to fathom what Reagan was thinking.
“Don’t cry, baby, I am not mad you or anything,” Grace said.
Reagan smiled. It was enough to make Grace’s heart break. She didn’t know if she would ever be good enough for Reagan, but damn it she was going to try.
