Saving Gracie

by Kristen Ethridge

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short. Surely there’s been another man who’s told you that.”

  She lowered her gaze. “Not for a long time.” She’d originally thought David found her attractive, but then discovered he really saw her as some kind of ugly duckling he needed to turn into his own version of a swan.

  Jake had brought her to Surfside Beach for a break from the last few days of uncertainty. But more than that, Gracie wanted a break from the years since David, years where she’d guarded her heart and never let anyone close. But why should she trust Jake? He and David both came from the same kind of world—one where people didn’t speak with accents, didn’t wear blue collars, and vacationed in posh resorts of foreign countries—not in the modest neighborhoods of the relatives who worked at those posh resorts.

  “Then someone’s missed an incredible opportunity.” His voice lowered, barely audible above the faint stirring of the car’s engine. His green eyes turned a shade darker, like the peel of an almost-ripe avocado. The seriousness of his gaze commanded her attention.

  “When I called you this morning, I said I wanted to apologize for putting you in an awkward position last night.”

  She needed to jump in and rescue him from saying things that would make them both feel awkward. “Jake, you don’t need to apologize. I—”

  “I’m not going to apologize, Gracie.”

  “You’re not?” Surely her elevated heart rate must be affecting her hearing.

  “Can’t you tell, Gracie? After I told you about the City Council’s upcoming vote, I planned to just write you off. But I couldn’t. And not because of anything extraordinary. Just because of who you are.” He smiled at her with a sincerity that even the nagging whisper in her head couldn’t deny. “You convinced me that not only was your school worth saving but you were worth getting to know better. I hadn’t set foot in a church in almost a decade until last night. I came because of the school you created from nothing. I came because of you.”

  “Jake, that’s not because of me, that’s because of God. He puts people and circumstances in our lives for a reason.”

  As the words rolled off her tongue, a light clicked on for Gracie as surely as if she had tripped an entire box of breakers.

  “What?” Jake tilted his head and stared deeply at her, studying her face. “You look like you have more to say.”

  “Well, maybe I just answered my own question. I’ve spent the past few days so worried about the circumstances surrounding you and El Centro that I forgot He’s in control.” Gracie could hear the animation coming back into her voice, like the moment in The Wizard of Oz when the scene changes from black-and-white to glorious color. “Maybe He’s put you in my life for a reason. Maybe I needed you to show me those new properties, to push me out of my comfort zone and into a new direction. Maybe it’s the start of a new and wonderful chapter for El Centro.”

  “It certainly could be, Gracie. I don’t know much about God, but I do know the place we found today is a great location for you to both live in and teach. And maybe there’s more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that good friends are a gift, especially when times are uncertain.”

  Jake’s hand rested back on the gearshift. Gracie reached out and covered it lightly with her own.

  She couldn’t deny his observation. She worked so much that she had more acquaintances than true friends. But the butterflies fluttering in her stomach seemed more than just friendly.

  “Sí. Todos necesitamos amigos.” She smiled, ready to release the apprehension that had dogged her for days, then remembered she needed to translate. “We all need friends.”

  * * *

  The three quick raps on the window, each progressively louder, were a calling card Gracie did not want to receive. Even with her back turned toward the window, Gracie knew she’d just been caught.

  “Graciela? Is that you?” Gloria’s voice sounded muffled through the glass.

  Although technically asking a question, no quizzical inflections punctuated the sentence. Gloria already knew the answer.

  Gracie turned around and punched the button to lower the window, wishing she could face any music other than her sister’s.

  “Hi, Gloria. How’s your afternoon at the beach?” Gracie tried to keep her voice from taking on the tone of a teenager coming in after curfew.

  “Oh, it’s been good. Peaceful. Lots of sun.” She lowered her head and looked straight across the small cabin at Jake. “But walking back to my car, I’ve noticed some storm clouds rolling in.”

  The only chill in the early summer air Gracie could sense came from directly outside the passenger door.

  “I see.” Gracie didn’t want to discuss this right now, not while she could still remember the closeness she and Jake just shared. “Jake was about to drop me off for a little R&R with you, but since you’re packing up, I guess I’ll just find something else to do.”

  “Well, Mamí is making fresh tamales tonight for the church fund-raiser tomorrow. She’ll need all the help she can get. Why don’t we all meet at Huarache’s?” Gloria popped her head through the window opening. “I don’t know how it is in your family business, Mr. Peoples, but in ours, we all pitch in. When you’re cooking, you can get distracted easily. If you mess with the recipe, things won’t turn out how you want them to. It’s good to have someone who can keep you from making a mistake.”

  Gloria’s raised eyebrows and knowing smile only underscored the true meaning of her carefully chosen words. Gloria had smelled a rat early on in Gracie’s relationship with David. She wanted Gracie to know her radar was on high alert again.

  “I’m going home to take a shower and wash this sand off, and I’ll call Mamí to let her know what the plans are. See you both around six.” Gloria tapped the car door with the palm of her hand. It reminded Gracie of a judge’s gavel after the verdict. There would be no pleas for leniency, no appeals.

  As Gloria walked back to her car, Gracie could only shake her head. “You must think my sister is nuts.”

  “Not at all. I think she’s one of the shrewdest negotiators I’ve ever faced. So, it seems we have plans tonight.” Jake rolled up the window from the button on the driver’s side of the truck, then shifted the transmission into gear. “I have a sister, too, you know. She and Gloria could fight for the front-row seat at Overprotective Siblings Anonymous.”

  The way Jake took Gloria’s suspicion in stride eased Gracie’s discomfort. “Well, what do you want to do now? It’s only three-thirty.”

  “Would you mind if I dropped you off at your place, then came back to get you around five forty-five? I’d planned on reviewing my presentation for the board tonight, and if I’m going to be facing the Garcia family instead, I need to go to the office and get some work done.”

  “Sure.” The time would give her the opportunity to compose herself before seeing her parents and Gloria.

  Gloria... Frustration and a little bit of anger mixed in Gracie’s emotional pool. No matter how hard she’d tried not to, in Gloria’s unbending presence, Gracie wound up feeling like a high schooler going to the prom who needed approval to stay out past curfew.

  It didn’t take long to drive from Surfside Beach to El Centro. Jake pulled to a stop in the small parking lot. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. It’s working out for your school. This will work out, too. Remember what you said earlier?”

  “Oh, I remember,” Gracie said as she gave the door handle a gentle tug. “But in our family, we’ve always joked that Mamí has God Himself on speed dial. She’s probably giving Him an earful right now.”

  “Don’t worry, Gracie. I’ve met plenty of parents before.”

  “Maybe so.” She got out of the car. “But were any of them Mexican?”

  He shook his head.

  She had him there. Experience—and even a law degree�
��would be no match for a mamá from Mexico.

  * * *

  “Your grandmother has left several messages for you.” Jake’s administrative assistant, Anne, stopped him before he even reached his office.

  “Thanks. Did you get my voice mail about the letter of recommendation for Gracie Garcia?” He thumbed through the short stack of pink while-you-were-out messages Anne had thrust into his hand.

  “Yes, Jake. I’ve already drafted it and faxed it over to Melissa Miller’s office.”

  “Great.” Concentrating on tomorrow’s presentation would come more easily now that he knew Gracie was taken care of.

  Jake tossed his laptop bag on the brown leather couch near the office door. He would check on Nana, then get to work. He sat on the other end of the couch and pushed Nana’s speed-dial button on the phone that sat on the nearby end table.

  She picked up after only one ring.

  “Jake, where have you been?” Her voice did not contain any trace of its usual sunshine.

  “Good afternoon, Nana. Is something wrong?”

  “I’ve been calling you for hours. Did you turn off your cell phone?”

  Jake dug in his pocket. The phone didn’t come to life when he pressed the button. “Looks like the battery died.”

  No wonder he’d had such a pleasant afternoon—no distractions. Except for Gracie and her charming smile, that is. How strange that in less than a day’s time, he’d gone from thinking of Gracie as a nuisance—a roadblock to his personally constructed plans—to thinking of her as a friend.

  “Well, I’ve been talking to Milton Brashear, and things are not looking good for tomorrow. Sam Pennington has gotten his little group on the board together and he’s finally managed to convince them to vote against you.”

  Great. Sam Pennington had been Jake’s father’s best friend. No doubt Sam had been told every story Jake’s father had concocted. With details.

  “Nana, I thought you and Milton were working on him.” He’d felt so confident this morning after helping Gracie find a suitable place to move. Once again, he’d tried to save everyone else and forgotten to save himself.

  “We tried, Jake. Milton’s had lunch with him three times in the past two weeks. Last week, he said he had concerns, but ultimately felt the company needed to remain headed by someone in the family for stability’s sake in these crazy economic times. Today, he told Milton he’d thought about your father and changed his position.”

  “He thought about my father, Nana? That figures. Even in death, the old man is still at the forefront of everyone’s mind.” He ran a hand through his hair and sank back uneasily into the office sofa. Like this situation with the board of directors, the cushions didn’t have much give to them.

  Jake looked at his surroundings, remembering how when he’d first returned to town, he’d redecorated this office, stripping the walls and the floors bare. Nothing remained of his father’s choices.

  Nothing except a board of directors that, over the years, had seen Johnny Peoples turning his broad back on his only son.

  “If I hear anything more, I’ll call you. Please keep your phone on, okay?” Her sigh was full of resignation. If Diana Powell Peoples couldn’t fix this mess with her connections and years as the matriarch of this family, Jake knew there wasn’t much hope.

  “I will, Nana. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Disconnecting the call seemed like the perfect metaphor for his feelings. He now felt completely uncertain about tomorrow’s meeting. His heart pressed hard and heavy inside his chest.

  A few months ago, Nana convinced him to leave Austin’s memories behind and come back to Port Provident. She’d convinced him he could make a fresh start in his childhood home. She’d always believed in him, just as his sister Jenna had always believed in him.

  But apparently no one else in Port Provident did.

  He didn’t know if he even could believe in himself anymore.

  * * *

  “I believe you’re ready to move on to the next level, Margarita,” Gracie said as she closed a workbook of basic English grammar lessons. “You’ve been a very quick study.”

  “Thank you, Gracie. I’ve been practicing a lot with Manny after work. We are only speaking English at home now so we can get better.” The student, old enough to be Gracie’s grandmother, beamed with pride. Even the bun of steel-wool-colored hair atop her head shone.

  Gracie pulled a red paperback from the corner bookshelf. “This is what you’ll need for the next class. We will use dialogues for most of the lessons.”

  “So I can start coming to the Tuesday morning class now?”

  Gracie nodded. Their tutoring sessions outside of El Centro’s Level One class had clearly paid off.

  “What’s the matter, Gracie? You look worried. Do you think I won’t be able to keep up with the new group?” Margarita’s wrinkled forehead creased further with concern. “I saw you on the news the other night. Is that the problem?”

  Gracie had tried to keep up a brave face these past few days with her students. And now that she’d found the new building downtown, she felt even more bothered that she couldn’t release the trepidation that clutched her mind and heart at the most unexpected times.

  But a student like Margarita brought it all home—a grandmother who’d achieved her lifetime goal of getting a visa and reuniting with her precious children and grandchildren—only to find out she couldn’t really communicate with them. Gracie would never forget being new to America, without the skills to communicate. She’d never forget being at the bottom of her class until a teacher believed in her and helped her get the language skills she needed. There were so many stories like her own, and she’d grown up in a community of good people who wanted to better their lives, but just needed someone to believe in them—that’s why Gracie had opened the doors of El Centro por las Lenguas. Without her, they’d lose their momentum. But without students to help and teach, she’d lose a piece of who she was.

  The Center for Languages existed for people like Margarita. What would become of the Margarita de Leons, the Pablo Moraleses and the Juan Calderons of Port Provident if Gracie couldn’t make the numbers add up, and instead had to close her doors in just a few days’ time?

  A sinking feeling gripped Gracie’s stomach. Too many people needed her to find a way.

  “I could use your prayers right now, Margarita. There’s a lot going on.”

  “Sí. Yo sabe.” Margarita lapsed into the familiar comfort of Spanish and patted the seat of the green plastic chair next to her. “I know, Gracie. I heard about what the City Council is trying to do to you. I saw you on TV with Angela Ruiz. Gracie, maestra, you must remember God has a special spot in His heart for teachers. Jesucristo himself answered to ‘Teacher’ from the disciples.”

  When Margarita put her arm around Gracie’s shoulders and squeezed, gratitude flowed like a balm over Gracie’s raw nerves. It felt as if she was getting advice from her own abuelita, who lived so far away. “He has not forgotten what He has called you here to do. When one door closes, He always opens another.”

  “I’ve heard that so many times in my life, Margarita. And even though I know I should trust in His plans, I am filled with fear over money and the possibility of moving, and...”

  And Jake. Gracie knew it didn’t take much for her thoughts to turn to the island native with the eyes like a Caribbean surf. But she didn’t dare admit that to her student. She could barely admit it to herself.

  “Well, maestra, it sounds like you need to remember the story of Queen Esther. Becoming part of the royal household wasn’t in her plans. But she helped save her people because she had been chosen, as she said, ‘for such a time as this.’” Margarita picked up her black patent-leather purse as she rose out of the seat. “Maybe it’s your time, Gracie.”

  The older woman lean
ed over Gracie and hugged her tightly. “Su tiempo es ahora, Graciela. Be bold.” And with that definitive proclamation, Margarita walked out of the classroom.

  Sunshine broke through the clouds in her heart. Her time was now.

  She panned her gaze over to the door of her small office. Inside were the calculators and spreadsheets she would use to craft a budget for a time like this.

  She would save her school and the dreams that depended on it.

  * * *

  The rest of Jake’s afternoon passed with a slow sense of desperation. He couldn’t focus on the work scattered across his desk.

  What did it matter, anyway? Sam Pennington was determined to see the rectangle of varnished oak become someone else’s desk, effective tomorrow.

  Jake couldn’t sit around just thinking about the upcoming showdown. He needed to do something. He needed to feel as if control of his life wasn’t slipping through his fingers like the sand on the beach where he’d always gone to think.

  Jake turned his gaze to the left, then swept it slowly right. This had been his father’s office. Even though Jake had moved his father’s decor out—except the couch—and his own few furnishings in, the room still felt foreign. As if it wasn’t his own.

  As if it would never be his own.

  A familiar memory came flooding back in Jake’s mind with a strength that hadn’t hit him since high school varsity football. He’d needed something to call his own back in those days, too. And to achieve it, he’d left town for Austin.

  Looks as though he’d be heading back tomorrow, once Sam Pennington got his way. He couldn’t stay in Port Provident—not without a job. He had creditors to pay as part of his recent settlement. He would have to make good on those obligations somehow. And he couldn’t do it here, surrounded by the gossip and speculation that seemed to go hand in hand with life in a small town.

  Jake yanked open the drawer to his desk. He stuck his hand inside without looking and closed his fist around a set of keys. Before Nana’s call, he’d planned to go home and practice his presentation for the board. But maybe he needed to face the truth and spend his time working on other details. Like packing a suitcase, putting some gas in the tank of the truck and getting ready to once again be forced out of this too-small town and its too many memories.