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Stages of Grace

Page 11

by Carey Heywood


  I’m sure Kate wonders why I am so set on going home. I admitted I don't love Jon, so what's pulling me back? A sense of obligation? A fear of the unknown? I spend most of the afternoon second guessing myself. The buzz of the oven timer brings me back to reality. I tell Kate to sit and go to take the loaf out of the oven. I’m holding it with mitts when I hear Ryan call out a greeting from the front door.

  "Good God, that smells like heaven. Kate, you are truly trying to ruin me for all other women."

  I have just set the pan onto the stovetop when Ryan pulls me into a hug. "Hullo, Grace."

  Hugging him back, I can’t help but giggle at his forwardness. "Hello, Ryan."

  He loosens his grip a fraction, and I step out of it, trying not to think about how good he smells. I decide not to make the moment awkward by asking why he hugged me but instead just enjoy it. I prepare a plate for each of us while Ryan opens a bottle of wine. He helps me bring the food out, and we sit.

  "I'd like to make a toast," Ryan says, lifting his glass. "To Grace, for—no pun intended—gracing us with her presence."

  "Har har." I reply as we clink glasses.

  "You'll come back and see us again, won't you?" Ryan asks, looking at Kate and then at me.

  "I'd love to."

  "I asked Grace to move in with me."

  My mouth drops open. I’m surprised Kate mentioned it.

  "That's great!" Ryan is beaming. "So will you do it?"

  I start to reply, but Kate answers for me. "She said no, but I'm hoping she'll change her mind."

  Ryan's face falls, and I suddenly feel like crying. Why does this feel like a mistake? A somber mood drifts over the rest of our meal. It’s awful to imagine Ryan and Kate having dinner without me tomorrow. It’s too much for me, and I excuse myself, half of my food uneaten. I flee to my room and sit on the edge of my bed, my mind reeling. The idea of going back to Ohio is becoming physically painful but to stay somehow seems to scare me even more. I'm not one to make rash decisions. Even agreeing to come to Florida in the first place had been out of my comfort zone. The idea of leaving my life in Ohio behind and moving to Florida is incomprehensible.

  I raise my head at the sound of a knock on the door. I dry my eyes and stand before saying, “Come in.” It’s Ryan.

  "What's going on Grace?"

  "I'm being silly. Please don’t worry about me. I'm sorry for seeming like such a basket case."

  "A basket case?"

  I laugh, guessing they don’t have that term in New Zealand. "A crazy person."

  "Oh, I don’t think you're crazy."

  "Thank you, Maybe I just feel crazy."

  "Would you like to talk about it?"

  "Trust me. If I told you everything that's going through my mind right now, you would change your mind about the whole crazy part."

  Ryan sits in the armchair, steepling his hands in front of him. "Try me."

  I hesitate, and he cocks his head at me, so I take a deep breath and begin. "I'm scared of moving to Florida. I've lived in Ohio my whole life, and it's all I've ever known. Yes, I'm not happy there right now, but I have a boyfriend, and even though things are not good right now, moving here this way would feel like giving up. I don’t know if I'm ready to give up, and I have a good job. If I came down here, would I be able to find anything like that? I know Kate said I wouldn’t have to worry about money or anything but I just can't do that. I would feel like a mooch."

  "Mooch?"

  "Someone who takes without giving anything back."

  "Sorry, thought you said pooch, like a dog. I misheard you. But, I don’t think Kate would ever think that."

  "But I would" I sigh.

  He shrugs. "Fair enough. Carry on."

  "So this whole idea is just making me feel crazy because I have no idea what to do. The idea of leaving is awful, but I feel like I can't just make a decision this big in a day."

  "All very valid points, Grace. I'm sticking to my previous assessment that you're not crazy."

  "So what do I do?"

  "If it were up to me, I'd say stay but I'm partial to that outcome."

  I blush and look at my hands. I'm nowhere closer to knowing what to do.

  "Kate's worried she's upset you. Let's go back out and let her know you're having a little conflicted moment but it's all been settled." Ryan stands and reaches his hand out to me.

  Taking it, I follow him back outside.

  "I'm sorry if I'm becoming a pest," Kate says as soon as we’re back outside.

  "No, I'm sorry. It's all me." I lean down to give her a hug.

  "And it's nothing another glass of wine won't cure," Ryan says as he tops off all of our glasses.

  "Trying to get us drunk?" I joke.

  "All part of my master plan." He makes a very poor attempt to waggle his eyebrows. "I will go fetch another bottle to allow you two to laugh at my expense in my absence."

  When he walks into the kitchen, Kate and I look at each other and dissolve into laughter. He looks extremely offended when he comes back and we are still laughing, which only causes us to laugh harder.

  "I'm disappointed by this turn of events," he deadpans, taking a large drink of his wine.

  At some point during the second bottle of wine, Ryan talks me into putting on my swimsuit as this might be my last opportunity to swim in the pool before I leave. Not having a valid argument to that, I go put it on, and we get into the pool.

  I’m now feeling pretty tipsy. Ryan and I drape our arms over the edge and chat with Kate. We start a third bottle of wine not too long after that, but pleading exhaustion, Kate goes to bed, leaving us alone. I feel far too close to Ryan so I swim over to the other side of the pool. If Ryan can tell why, he doesn’t say. He just turns so that his back is up against the pool wall as he faces me. The pool isn’t very big so the distance I've put between us doesn’t amount to much. He still feels too close, and with Kate gone and the wine, I feel shy and nervous.

  I try not to look at him and turn my back to him, pretending to be very interested in the night sky. I tense when I hear water lapping the pool walls as he swims over to me.

  He’s behind me. "Grace."

  It’s almost a plea. I can’t turn to look at him. "Yes?"

  "Grace, would you look at me?"

  I don’t respond, and I don’t turn around. I have a feeling that if I do, he will kiss me. After a few moments, he leans against the pool wall just next to me.

  "I just want you to know I think you're lovely."

  I keep my head forward but peek at him from the side. His arms are on the pool deck, one hand on top of the other with his forehead resting on top.

  "I think you are lovely too, Ryan."

  His head pops up, and he rests his chin on his hand. He’s smiling. We stay like that for some time before I, like Kate, plead exhaustion. Ryan readies to leave, studying his shoes and telling me what time he’ll come pick me up to take me to the airport. I stand in my towel, on the lanai, and watch him leave. I’m kicking myself for not turning around in the pool, but it’s better this way. If he'd kissed me and it had been wonderful, it would be that much harder to go home. I lock the backdoor behind me and go to my room, pausing at the picture on the wall. I have become accustomed to seeing the faces from the photo before I go to bed.

  I retrieve my cell phone from my room and snap a photo of the picture. It’s not the same, but it will do. I snuggle into the most comfortable bed I've ever slept on for one last night of sleep.

  ~*~

  Over indulgence of wine can result in sleeping in. Days when you must get on an airplane are stressful enough without feeling as though you are already behind. I wake up an hour later than I had planned. I rush to the dryer to retrieve my clothes and dump them on my bed before taking a shower. Once I’m dressed, I pack my clean clothes and go off in search of Kate. She’s in the kitchen looking as though she is also suffering from the effects of too much wine. I’m relieved to see a fresh pot of coffee. Ryan had brought some croissant
s the day before and Kate has baking chocolate in the fridge, so I whip up a few chocolate croissants for us in the microwave. They’re hot so while they cool I go off in search of some Advil to assist with the dull thud in my head. Kate is quiet over breakfast. I feel like it’s my fault for not agreeing to stay. It's weird not knowing what to say to make her feel better.

  I get up to clear the plates, and Kate stops me, putting her hand on my forearm. "Just know you still have family, Grace. I may be old, but we're all each other has left at this point. I want you to know that I love you and always will."

  I sink down to my knees next to her and allow Kate to pull me into a hug. We’re both crying, I suddenly feel overwhelmed by the idea that I’m not alone in the world. I had clung to Jon after my parents’ deaths because of this. I’m not certain why Kate is crying, maybe it has something to do with my mother, maybe it is just because she will miss me. When we separate, Kate grabs a napkin to wipe my tears.

  "Please know I've thought about staying. It’s just not a choice I can make this quickly, but know that even though I'm going back to Ohio today, I've not decided against coming back."

  "It would make me so happy."

  "I just need time to think" I say lowering my head.

  She runs her hand gently over my hair. "I understand, dear."

  I stand and continue gathering our plates to clear the table. When I finish, I walk through each room of the house I spent time in to make sure I've not forgotten something. My bags are packed and standing at attention in the front room for when Ryan arrives. As I wait for him, I sit with Kate while she knits. She's now making a baby blanket for the daughter of a friend. It’s cream-colored with a pink border. Watching her knit, I can suddenly picture my own identical baby blanket. I still have it in a box in my closet back home.

  "You said my mother knew how to knit, right?"

  "She did."

  "I have a baby blanket like this back home." I gently touch a corner of the blanket.

  "If your mother did not make it, there's a good chance that was a blanket I had made for her as a baby. I had one that I never knew what happened to it. If that's the same one, I'm happy to know she used it with you." Kate reaches out to pat me on the knee.

  Ryan enters not long after. Kate flutters around me, wanting to make me a snack before I leave, but my stomach is unsettled from the night before and the thought of flying. I hope a bag of Chex Mix at the airport will help. When we hug goodbye, Kate clings to me. I can tell by the way Kate is breathing that she is near tears. I don’t want to cry in front of Ryan again, but will have no choice if I see Kate cry. I give her a kiss on the cheek and release my arms. Kate walks us to the door, pulling me down to give me a kiss. Ryan pulls both of my suitcases and loads them into his Jeep while I double check my purse for my ticket and ID. Kate stands in the doorway, waving while I climb into Ryan's Jeep.

  "And we're off," Ryan says, backing out.

  "Thank you for taking me to the airport."

  "We're going to miss you."

  I can’t tell him how much I am going to miss him as well without feeling silly so I nod and look out the window, feeling more depressed with each palm tree we pass. It doesn‘t take long to get to the airport. Ryan refuses my request to just drop me off and parks instead. I follow him to the airline counter, and he waits with me until my bag is checked. I’m waiting for him to leave, but he seems unable to. As we approach the security area, we both know he can’t go any farther. Before I walk into the roped-off area, he pulls me into a hug. I rest my forehead on his neck, breathing him in.

  Ryan's arms are so strong around me. I don’t want him to let go, but he does. Just before his arms release me, he gently kisses the top of my head. I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze, then move into line. As I navigate the rope-lined path, I look back each time the line stops, and each time, Ryan is still there, watching me. When I reach the front of the line where I have to take off my shoes and put them and my carryon onto the conveyor belt, I look back one more time to wave and see he is gone.

  Sad I'd not been able to see him one last time, I pass through security in a daze, only to be stopped because I have forgotten to take off my belt. The TSA agent takes it from me to have it through the scanner and makes me walk through the detector again. I apologize while putting my belt and shoes back on, then go to find my gate. I have a direct flight for the return, and Jon will pick me up from the airport. I take out my cell phone to text him a reminder of when my flight will be landing.

  Time to get back to reality, I think to myself. Sure, Florida had been a nice break with kayaking and mermaids, but that is not my life. It’s Saturday. I'll have all day tomorrow to get settled and ready to go back to work on Monday. This is my life. I just need to accept that.

  ~*~

  When I land in Cleveland, I can’t find Jon. I move out of the path of travelers and text him, asking if he is there. Jon replies that he will meet me at baggage claim. I’m not sure why that bothers me. Somehow, I had expected him to wait just past security. I tuck my phone into my purse and pull my coat out of my carryon suitcase. I’m still inside the airport but already freezing, wondering what the temperature is like outside. I see Jon right away as I enter the baggage claim area. He looks bored.

  "Hi, Jon."

  He makes no move to hug me. "How was Florida?"

  "Good, thanks."

  Silence.

  Jon stands off to the side with my carryon while I wait for my suitcase to come around the carousel. Once I have it, I wheel it over to him, and he turns and begins making his way to the parking lot, pausing to put on a hat before walking outside. I cringe at the blast of cold air and grimace as I step into it and try to keep up with him. When we get to my car, Jon hands me the keys before going to sit in the passenger seat and leaving me to load my bags in the trunk. My fingers feel like icicles by the time I shut the trunk and climb into the car. I put the heat on high and blow on my hands as I rub them together.

  Jon hands me the parking ticket and we leave, not having to pay since Jon had parked less than an hour. I wish he was driving but don’t say anything about it.

  "How was your week?" I ask.

  "Fine."

  Silence.

  I turn on the radio to fill the void. When we get back to our apartment, Jon helps me carry the larger case up the stairs. He stays in the front room while I go to our bedroom to call Kate.

  "I just wanted to let you know I made it home safe."

  "Oh, thank you, dear. Did you have a good flight?"

  "It was fine. Thank you."

  "I miss you already, dear."

  "I miss you too, Kate."

  "Well, I hope you'll come back and see me again soon."

  "I'll try."

  When we end our call, I unpack my bag, happy that I don’t have laundry to deal with. As I hang the sweater Kate knit, I decide I’ll wear it the next day. When I’m finished putting my things away, I go to the kitchen to make a snack. There isn’t much to eat. Jon is sitting in his chair watching me.

  "I think I'll run to the store and pick some things up. Would you like to go with?"

  "I'll stay here."

  "Is there anything I can get for you?"

  "I'm good."

  I’m better dressed for the cold on this outing, hat and gloves on. I stop to get gas while I’m out so I won’t have to do it the next day before going on to the store. I walk the aisles in a daze, randomly filling my cart. I pick up ground beef and stuffing to make for dinner Sunday. It seems like everything I'm getting I had eaten at Kate's: a cantaloupe, muffins, eggs, and wine. Will eating the same foods make me feel like I’m still with them? I pick up more food than I had intended and have to make three trips from the car up the stairs to bring it all up. Even Jon seems surprised by the amount of food as he gets up to help me unload.

  "Wine?"

  "Why not? Want to open it and have a glass with me?"

  Jon's brows come together above the bridge of his nose bef
ore he pulls a bottle opener out of one of the kitchen drawers. Our wine glasses are a bit dusty, from lack of use. Jon rinses and dries them before he pours us a glass.

  I lift my glass and motion for Jon to lift his as well. "To home."

  He hesitates before touching his glass to mine and taking a drink.

  I'd pick up an easy skillet meal for two out of the frozen section of the store. It’s an Italian chicken dish. It’s a bit early for dinner but not by much, so I go ahead and make it since I’m hungry. While it’s cooking, I steam a bag of frozen broccoli in the microwave. I smile when Jon puts plates out on the table. When dinner is ready, we sit together and eat. Jon gets up during our meal to refill our glasses. Maybe this can work.

  The wine goes to my head, and I go to bed earlier than normal. Part of me is disappointed when Jon makes no move to follow me. As I drift to sleep, I mourn the loss of Kate's comfortable bed and I wonder if Kate and Ryan are still up, sitting by the pool. My last thought before sleep overtakes me is if they are missing me as well.

  The next morning when I wake, it takes me a moment to figure out where I am. I turn my head to see Jon quietly sleeping beside me. After looking at the time on my phone, I decide there is no point trying to fall back asleep. I wander out to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee before warming up a muffin in the microwave and coating it with butter. I take my muffin and coffee over to the table and slowly nibble it and sip my coffee while they cool. Wanting some fruit I get up and am slicing a cantaloupe in half when Jon walks out. He nods in my direction, pours himself a cup of coffee and sits in his armchair.

  "Is there anything you needed to do today?"

  He pauses for a beat to consider my question, then shakes his head and turns on the TV. I take my cantaloupe and sit back down at the table, my back to him. I pinch my eyes shut as I try not to let my hopes fall. Is this what it’s going to be like between us? I'd hoped that my absence would in some way make Jon miss me. If Jon had missed me, he isn’t showing it. I can’t help but wonder what he's thinking. Is he even happy?

 

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