Claire was up running up the stairs in a heartbeat with Grayson at her heels.
“Danielle?”
Danielle sat on the floor holding her arm. Claire knelt next to her. “We were playing with Charlie,” she said. The kitten sat on the bed, innocently licking his paws.
“Where does it hurt?” Grayson asked, kneeling next to them.
“My shoulder.”
“This is where you bumped it,” Claire said.
“It’s probably just bruised again,” he said.
“I think I broke it.”
“Can I look,” Grayson asked, looking from Claire to Danielle.
Claire nodded. Danielle said “okay.”
Grayson gently removed the sling and pressed his fingers against her shoulder.
She winced.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Danielle kept her chin high.
“It’s not broken,” Grayson said.
“Are you sure?” Danielle asked. “It hurts like a… hurts like crazy.”
“Pararescue,” Grayson said. “Remember?”
“Right.”
“Okay, let’s get you off the floor and up on the bed. Sam, will you help?”
Sam moved forward. “What do I do?”
“Just let her grab your arm. Never pull on her.”
Danielle grabbed Sam’s arm and with Grayson supporting her back, she got to her feet and back onto the bed.
“How did you get into pararescue?” Sam asked.
“I went into the Air Force,” Grayson said.
“Awesome. And you jumped out of airplanes?”
“All the time.”
“Maybe I should do that.”
Grayson laughed, but locked his gaze onto Claire’s. “Maybe you should see where this thing with Danielle is going first.”
Danielle groaned. “We don’t have a thing.”
“We could have a thing,” Sam said.
“Do you need anything, else, Danielle?” Claire asked. “Grayson and I are going to go back downstairs.”
“No. I’m good. Thanks, Grayson.”
“No problem.”
Claire and Grayson left them discussing the possibility of having a thing.
Grayson grimaced. “I think I might have overstepped.”
“No,” Claire said. “Let them have that conversation. Maybe someone should have mentioned something to us.”
“Yeah. We’re the old wise ones now.”
“Ha. It’s an unknown hazard of parenting.”
“And teaching.”
“I imagine there are a lot of similarities.”
“Except I get to leave them behind when I go home at night.”
“That’s when the fun starts,” she said.
“Danielle likes baseball?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Well, she has a poster of the Dodgers on her wall and a couple of baseballs on her dresser where most girls have Barbies.”
“It’s something she and her father used to do together.”
“Used to.”
“They still go, but not as often.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It’s okay. She’s into college now. I should see if your clothes are dry.”
“Is that a hint?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Claire left Grayson in the living room and went to the laundry room. His clothes were dry. She looped his jeans and shirt over her arm and carried them back out to him. “You can wear what you have on home if you like.”
Grayson chuckled. “You are telling me it’s time to go.”
“No. You can stay, but you’ll see a grown woman fall asleep on the couch.”
He smiled and ran a finger over her chin. “I’m tired, too. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“I have to take Danielle to visit my mom, then I’m free.”
He ran his finger over her bottom lip.
She took a step back. “’Do you want to come with me?” she asked.
“Whoa. I don’t know.”
She smiled. “You have to face it some time. Better sooner than later, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Claire. Sometimes it’s best to put off today what you can do tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
Grayson picked up his dry cleaning, dashed through the supermarket for basics like sodas and bread, then filled up his car with gas. Saturdays were for errands and getting everything ready for next week. The Air Force had taught him nothing if not discipline.
He didn’t mind working hard. In fact, while other people were standing around complaining about not having enough time to do things, he was off doing them.
He subscribed to the work hard play hard club. He worked hard, then he tucked work away and played. He was good at compartmentalization.
Teaching college was turning out to be different, however, and he found it be taxing. His work was bleeding over into his play time. It was part of society’s culture. Take the good with the bad, he mused.
Unfortunately, when a student emailed or texted, they expected an answer right away. Even on the weekends. And with their first test coming up on Monday, the questions were coming like wildfire. It hadn’t helped that he’d been out nearly a whole week.
He stopped at Starbuck’s for a coffee, sat outside, and while sipping his coffee, did a quick check-up of messages. Then he sat back and watched people for a few minutes. Some people were obviously heading to work, but most were like him. Running errands and starting their weekend off with a jolt of caffeine.
One couple, in their twenties, caught his attention. They were giggling with their heads bent close as they ordered and waited for their coffee. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the wrong decision by entering the Air Force like he did. Not that regretted his military service. He’d do that part all over again. Even knowing that he’d sometimes have nightmares and intrusive memories. Nothing four weeks in the VA hospital in Little Rock hadn’t helped him get under control. But maybe he should have married Claire first. Their lives would have been different. He would have been gone, so she still could have had the career she had today. The only thing that would have changed was that they would had a life together. A family.
Grayson was still grieving the loss of his friend. But in truth, he was grieving more the tragedy than anything else. He knew the statistics. He knew that veterans took their lives everyday. Suicide wasn’t just a military phenomenon, but these men and women had only been doing their jobs – serving their country. The resulting post-traumatic reaction was a travesty.
He tossed his empty cup in the trash and shook off his thoughts. He couldn’t rewrite the past. Still, he couldn’t help thinking that there should be more that he could do to help his fellow veterans.
Grayson had three hours before he was supposed to meet Claire at her house. Then the three of them were going to Claire’s mother’s house.
He could think of plenty of things he’d rather do than face Claire’s mother. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the one who had hidden his letters and phone calls from Claire. He could only imagine that he was the last person she wanted to see.
Arriving back at his apartment, he put away his dry cleaning and his groceries. He decided to change clothes again, opting for a white button-down shirt in place of the casual polo shirt he’d put on that morning.
With some time left, he turned on his computer and went to the veteran’s administration website to look around. There were lots of social worker jobs, but no openings.
He came across one of his buddies from grad school, Bob. He and Bob had taken every class together.
He found Bob’s email address and dashed off a quick email before heading out the door to pick up Claire.
They were waiting for him. They’d been sitting on the sofa playing Words with Friends back and forth.
Claire was cute in a mid-thigh length flared skirt, a t-shirt, cropped sweater, a
nd white canvas sneakers. Danielle had on jeans and a sweatshirt.
Claire seemed a little nervous. He asked her about it.
“I didn’t tell my mother you were coming. In fact, I haven’t mentioned you since she gave me the letters.”
“Oh. Well. That’s comforting. Nothing like busting up on the one person who tried successfully to get rid of me.”
“It wasn’t you. She likes you. It was the lifestyle that scared her. She’ll be fine now.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Danielle looked up from her phone. “You’ll like Grandma,” she said. “She’s really a kind person. I’ve never heard her speak unkindly of anyone.”
“That’s comforting,” Grayson said. “Thank you for telling me.”
“No problem,” Danielle said, putting her gaze back on her phone.
The twenty-minute ride to Betty Beauchamp’s house was mostly silent. Danielle was texting. Grayson and Claire were lost in their own thoughts.
He parked at the curb and they walked up the sidewalk, Danielle in front.
Betty was waiting at the door. Danielle, according to Claire, was the one person who could lure her from her rooms upstairs without complaint.
Betty, Grayson, reflected, looked good physically, but there was a sadness about her.
They hugged and talked about Danielle’s shoulder before Betty turned to Claire. Claire hugged her mother, then turned to Grayson.
“Mom,” she said. “This is…”
Her mother interrupted. “Grayson.” Smiling, she reached out and took his hands in hers. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Mrs. Beauchamp.”
“Let’s go inside, shall we? I made lunch.”
“Are you sure she didn’t know I was coming?” Grayson whispered as they followed Betty and Danielle into the house.”
“I didn’t tell her,” Claire said.
“Danielle,” Grayson said.
Claire shrugged. “Maybe.”
Betty had made tuna sandwiches. They sat at the kitchen table eating tuna sandwiches and chips while Danielle chattered to her grandmother about her classes, her shoulder, and Sam.
After they ate, Betty and Danielle went out back to fill Betty’s bird feeders.
“You’d never know they talked every day,” Claire said.
“Really? Every day?”
“Yep.”
“Nope. I thought it must have been at least a week.”
Claire laughed. “The two of them are thick as thieves.”
“Must be nice,” he said. “To have someone that close.”
“I never did.”
“Yeah. Me either,” he said.
“You never talked about your grandparents.”
“Nothing to talk about. My grandfather was military, so they lived in Germany while I was growing up. I saw them maybe one time.”
“That’s unfortunate. What about on the other side?”
“Died before I could get to know them.”
“Same thing on Noah’s side. I mean his mother’s still living, but they weren’t close.”
“Was Danielle close to your father?”
“She was. I think that’s part of what led to her suicide attempt.”
“She seems good now,” Grayson said.
“She’s great. At first, they said we should watch her when she was too happy, but now they agree that she really is okay.”
“That must be a relief.”
Claire blew her hair out of her eyes. “You have no idea,” she said.
“You said she’s spending the night?” he asked.
“Yeah. We have the rest of the day to ourselves.”
He grinned. “That sounds irresistible.”
She raised a delicate eyebrow.
“Actually,” he said. “I was thinking. The Getty is having an art exhibit that you might like if you haven’t seen it. It’s 18th Century Europe.”
“Ooh. I haven’t seen it. But I want to.”
“Want to go?”
“Yes!” She jumped up. “Let me tell them we’re leaving.”
He chuckled and sighed with relief. He’d avoided a conversation with Claire’s mother. Perhaps she subscribed to Claire’s policy about letting the past stay in the past. Keep moving forward.
When they got to the Getty, it was crowded. As they hiked to the front of the museum, he took her hand. She had a little spring in her step and could have easily passed for someone in her early twenties.
Now that he’d found her again, he never, ever wanted to let her go again. He would have to take the job in Pittsburgh. It would be unprofessional to leave them without someone to fill in. But after that, he would have to find a way to get back to her.
Claire would not be single long. She was absolutely adorable. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and a great mother. He wondered if she wanted to have more children.
They reached the counter and he bought them two tickets to the museum.
Maybe it was her smile. Or her lithe figure. Or both. Whatever it was, Claire turned men’s heads.
Claire had spent countless hours here studying art.
She knew every crook and cranny of the public part of the museum. She even knew some of the private administrative parts, though it had been nearly twenty years since her days as a volunteer. She’d absorbed everything about the place.
She’d considered going to school to study art, but the more she learned, the less she thought it would be worth her time to invest in a degree. She had learned what she needed to know hands on.
She still wondered sometimes, if she’d made the right decision, especially when someone asked her where she studied. It was a question she rarely got now that she was successful. Perhaps the word had travelled.
She loved sharing her love of the museum with Grayson. She loved holding his hand as she navigated her way through the halls.
She also loved the way he looked at her. His attention never strayed. She could tell he scanned the crowds. Figured that was his military training. She would have expected no less. But his eyes stayed on her, especially when he wore that look of interest.
He’d always had that look for her. Since they were in high school.
Now that she was older, she knew how rare that was. That it was a gift. Very few people were fortunate to have someone who looked at them like that. Especially someone who looked like Grayson.
Tall, dark, and handsome.
She felt safe with him. No one was going to bother her while she was with him. Maine D’Court had come closest, but as soon as Grayson stepped up, he had stepped back. With her fingers looped in his, there was no question that they were together.
They stopped to admire a painting of two lovely ladies and he shifted to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
She closed her eyes. Just for a minute. And enjoyed the feel of him against her.
“You can see the brushstrokes,” he said.
Her eyes fluttered open and she focused on the painting. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I went to the Louvre when I was in Europe,” he said.
She pulled away to look into his eyes. He released her. “I had no idea you liked art.”
“I guess I had a little early influence,” he said, sheepishly.
She thought back to their early days. Her eyes widened. “We did come here,” she said. “I’d forgotten.”
“On more than one occasion.”
“If I recall, you weren’t that into art.”
“I was young. And getting ready to go into the military. I probably had some notion that it wasn’t manly to like art.”
She laughed. “I’m glad you saw the error of your ways.”
“I actually like the architecture most of all. But I appreciate the art.”
“I know what you mean. I’m drawn to the art, but I appreciate the sculptures for what they are. There’s a difference.”
They moved along to the next group of
paintings. They spent the next two hours meandering through the museum, in no hurry. She could think of no place she’d rather be than there, at the museum, with Grayson.
It was nothing short of a small miracle that they have found each other again.
“Did you ever think we’d see each other again, much less get back together?”
“I wondered all the time. If I’d know you were divorced, I would have already looked for you.”
“If you’d looked for me, you’d have known,” she said, her lips bowed prettily.
“You’re quite right.”
“So how were you planning on finding out?”
“I’m a man. I didn’t have a plan.”
She laughed. “I thought you were happily married long ago and living with your wife and three kids.”
“You remembered. I’m impressed.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I was planning to be that wife.” She said the words before she thought. She bit her lip and fervently wished she could rewind and make the words go away.
“I was planning on you being that wife, too,” he said.
She smiled, no longer thinking she’d said the wrong thing.
They walked a few feet. “So, we’re back together?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
She felt her cheeks heat with a blush. She had said that. “I just meant. Together. Like this.”
“Do you want to be back together?” He asked.
“Do you?”
“I never wanted to be apart,” he said.
“But you’ve had other girlfriends.”
“You got married.”
“Point well made. You never wanted to get married?”
“I toyed with the idea a few times, but no. I never dated anyone that I wanted to marry.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm. What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I just thought you would have.”
“Maybe I was waiting for you.”
“Whatever,” she said, moving away from him. “You weren’t even looking for me.”
“Waiting and looking don’t have to be different things.”
She leaned over a rail and wondered about the appeal of the painting in front of her. She often wondered about the appeal of paintings. Why some had mass market appeal and others didn’t. It seemed to be whatever elicited emotion. Not about how well it was painted.
Love Again: Love's Second Chance Series Page 9
