The Color of Grace

by Linda Kage

  I covered my mouth as my throat went dry and my eyes went moist. This was art created with love.

  By the time he finished, I was laughing with tears streaming. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” I surged to my feet and threw open my arms. “She’ll love it.”

  I hugged him again, but this time when he hugged me back; it was with both arms. He squeezed me gratefully, his happiness soaking out of him and filling me.

  When we pulled away from each other, we both had these goofy grins on our faces and tears on our cheeks.

  A flitter of uncertainty edged his gaze as Adam said, “Do you think—”

  “Yes,” I answered before he could finish the question. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  Shoulders relaxing, he nodded before thanking me. Then he shivered and glanced out at the falling snow on the lawn. “Well, I think I’m going to shove off before I turn into a Popsicle.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry.” Jumping into the role of hostess, I pointed to the front door. “Do you want to come in for some hot chocolate?”

  He cast a leery glance toward the shades covering the large front window. “Uh, no thanks. I don’t think your stepdad wanted me around.” Turning back to me, he lifted his eyebrows. “The guy sends out some pretty clear vibes.”

  Something inside me shuddered with fear. But I kept my face passive. At least I hoped I did. “Barry wouldn’t mind,” I assured, hoping my own claim was true.

  Adam shook his head anyway. “That’s okay. I, uh, I kind of wanted to head over to Bridget’s.”

  I felt like slapping my palm to my forehead. Of course he wanted to see Bridget now. Duh. “Then what’re you still doing here?” I accused with a smile, grasping his elbow and nudging him toward the porch steps. “Get over there already, Romeo.”

  He rolled his eyes but loped off with a grin. As he reached his car, he glanced back and waved at me. I waved too and then folded my arms back over my chest to keep in as much warmth as possible, which wasn’t much to begin with. My toes were beginning to burn with cold. Yet I stood there and watched my friend drive away. I didn’t go back inside until about thirty seconds after his car disappeared around a corner. Then I shivered and hurried toward the entrance.

  Thankfully, Barry wasn’t lingering anywhere nearby, so I slipped to my room and closed the door, locking it.

  Mom got home by nine that evening. I heard the garage door open and close and then two muffled voices followed as she and Barry no doubt greeted each other. I stayed in my room, doing homework without putting much effort into it.

  Half an hour later, I received a text alert from the school, saying classes had been cancelled the next day due to inclement weather. In relief, I shut my textbook and turned to my laptop. I didn’t go into any social networking sites though; I didn’t really feel like chatting online with anyone. So I cruised the web, checking out a couple expensive cameras I was saving my money to buy.

  I was almost wishing I hadn’t tucked Barry’s sixty dollars he’d slipped into my purse back on top of his dresser with the rest of his spare change when I heard the home phone ring in the background. Seconds later, a knock came at my door.

  “Grace,” Mom called in a pleasant enough voice to gain my attention.

  What was this? My mom wanted to talk to me? Calmly?

  I hopped off the bed and went to unlock the door, pulling it open.

  She held the cordless phone against her shoulder. “With school cancelled tomorrow, Rita Gruber needs a babysitter for her son, Cody. Could you watch him?”

  I blinked. “Who’s Rita Gruber?”

  Her sigh was irritated. Eyebrows pinching together, she impatiently explained, “She’s Barry’s receptionist. She only lives a couple blocks away. You could walk to their house without any trouble.”

  I grimaced. She narrowed her eyes.

  Babysitting wasn’t something I did often. Besides, what kind of kid was this Cody? How old? Would I be changing dirty diapers or trying to keep him off porn channels? It didn’t even occur to me he had to be school age since that’s exactly why I was needed to babysit.

  Don’t ask where my brain was, because I couldn’t give you a good answer.

  “Well?” Mom finally snapped, her patience dissolved into a dirty scowl.

  “Fine,” I muttered and shut the door in her face, clicking the lock as loud as I could.

  Slumping back to the bed, I collapsed on top of the mattress and stared at the ceiling.

  Babysitting. Ugh.

  Lonely, bored, and irritable, I rolled onto my stomach and pulled my laptop closer, logging in to my email to see if maybe Adam had already visited Bridget and she had maybe contacted me with the outcome. When I saw I actually had something from Facebook, I brightened. Until I glanced to the right and read the subject line.

  Todd Stangman sent you a message on Facebook.

  Groaning, I clicked and read.

  Hey, we’re going sledding tomorrow. Want to come?

  Suddenly, I wasn’t so upset about having to babysit after all. I wrote him back with my handy-dandy excuse and sent my regrets.

  * * * *

  Turned out, Cody Gruber was only a first grader. And he still took naps.

  For the first half of the morning, the little maniac ran me breathless. The kid went full-speed nonstop. And he demanded I play with him. No camping out on the couch with my feet up watching soap operas all day while he quietly played with Tonka trucks on the floor. No. We had to play pretend. And more often than not, I got to be the tortured victim.

  By lunch, I was ready for a nap. But Cody kept going. His mother told me he usually slept in the afternoon, and right on schedule, four o’clock came around and he dropped like a stone. I tried to carry him from the couch where he collapsed to his bedroom, but first graders are not as light as one would think.

  Panting as I left his room and softly closed the door, I wiped an exhausted hand across my brow, thinking it was Grace naptime too.

  But the doorbell rang.

  I was startled to find Todd, of all people, standing on the front steps with a huge smile.

  My mouth fell open. “What…how…”

  His grin grew. “Hey, this is Osage. Everyone knows where everyone else lives.”

  “Right,” I grumbled.

  Todd tried to come inside.

  “Whoa.” I dodged into his path. “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m coming in. It’s freaking cold out here.”

  “But—”

  He came inside.

  I ground my teeth and closed the door after him. “I really don’t think Mrs. Gruber would like me having friends over while I’m working.”

  He ignored my concerned frown, glancing around the living room. “Where is the little monster, anyway?”

  I vaguely waved my hand toward the opening of the hall that led to Cody’s room. “He’s sleeping, but—”

  “Really?” Todd wiggled his eyebrows. “And when does Mrs. Gruber get home?”

  My gut churned with anger, irritation, and fear. “Any minute now,” I said, though I really didn’t know. Barry sometimes came home before I even made it out of school. Other nights, he worked until after six.

  “I don’t think you should be here,” I said just as the phone rang.

  I held up a hand, silently telling him to stay before I spun around to race to the back of the house, where I’d spotted the phone earlier in the kitchen. I answered and promptly hung up as a telemarketer began rattling off something; I didn’t wait to hear what she was selling.

  I whirled around and let out a yelp, jarring to a halt before I could plow into Todd’s chest.

  “So how much time do you think we have?”

  I opened my mouth to say, none, but the jerk swooped in with that sneaky action of his and kissed me.

  And right on schedule, the back door opened, admitting Mrs. Gruber into the kitchen.

  Todd flew backward, wiped his mouth, and sent Barry’s receptionist a guilty little
smirk. Then he winked at me, turned on his heel, and strode from the room, exiting out the front of the house.

  I was embarrassed. Obviously. Todd had made me look unprofessional in front of Mrs. Gruber. She’d never ask me to watch her son again; I could tell by the reproachful crinkle in her eyebrows.

  I wanted to defend myself and say I hadn’t invited him; I hadn’t even welcomed him when he showed up. But humiliated to the bone, I just stood there and waited in uncomfortable silence as Mrs. Gruber dug through her purse, looking for cash to pay me.

  I should’ve blurted something out like, “You don’t have to worry about paying,” and then ran out of there as if my tail was on fire. I didn’t feel like I deserved the money anyway, but my voice box blipped out and my feet wouldn’t move, so I waited, mortified and ashamed.

  I slugged home through the cold, slushy snow with my head hung low and my hands bunched into fists, thinking up new and creative ways to make Todd Stangman suffer.

  “Have a good time babysitting?” Barry asked as soon as I pushed open the front door. A gleam of amusement twinkled in his eyes before he wiggled his brows suggestively.

  My face immediately went molten hot.

  Oh, God. “Mrs. Gruber already called, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did,” Mom answered, appearing at Barry’s side. She was still in her nurse’s outfit, probably just getting home from work, too. “And I can’t say how disappointed I am with you, Grace, inviting some boy over to a stranger’s house while you were—”

  “I didn’t invite him.”

  “Well, you certainly didn’t kick him out. From the way Rita talked, you two were practically—”

  I gasped. “We were not!”

  “Is this the same boy Barry caught you kissing on the front porch?”

  I sliced a surprised look Barry’s way. I had no idea he’d told Mom about that. Paranoid as I’d grown around him recently, I still thought we’d become friends of a sort. I thought he’d keep some kind of confidence with me.

  Obviously, I was wrong, and I could no longer count on him to be my friend.

  “Well?” Mom demanded.

  “Yes,” I mumbled. “His name’s Todd.”

  “Is Todd your boyfriend?”

  I shrugged, forcing myself not to wince at the word. But if I said no, that would only make the situation look ten times worse.

  “And what about the other boys?”

  I frowned and glanced up. Huh? “What other boys?”

  “Barry saw you talking to two different boys at the bowling alley. And then some kid with a guitar showed up and sang you a song. None of them were this Todd he’d seen you kissing.”

  My jaw dropped. What exactly had Barry been telling her? Losing all trust in him, I somehow managed not to send him a lethal glare and instead bunched my jaw tight as I kept eye contact with my mother.

  Talking through gritted teeth, I explained, “The boy with the guitar was only Adam. He’d written a new song and wanted my opinion.” I could’ve gone on to explain he’d written the song for Bridget so there was no way she needed to worry about him. But I was so mad, I didn’t feel the need for such explanation.

  “And the boy your husband saw in the bowling alley was Joel Forthright…Bridget’s older brother. He wasn’t even there with my group but was with his own friends and was just saying hi when he saw me.”

  “So what about the other boy at the bowling alley?”

  Ryder. I felt my face drain. Now he was probably the only boy she would ever have to worry about.

  “He was…no one,” I said, shaking my head. “Just some friend of Todd’s.”

  My mother narrowed her eyes. “Barry said you two looked…cozy.”

  This time I couldn’t help it; I shot Barry a look to kill. “We did not! He has a girlfriend.”

  Folding her hands over her chest and cocking her hip in a motherly gesture, Mom sent me a look that told me she clearly didn’t believe me.

  I rolled my eyes. Whatever. She could believe what she wanted to believe. “Are we through with the third degree? May I go to my room now?”

  “No. It’s your night to make supper.”

  “Great,” I muttered and bumped past her as I stormed toward the kitchen. “That’s exactly what I wanted to do anyway.”

  Missing the silent treatment more and more, I started supper in teeth-grinding resignation.

  Chapter 17

  My mother is yellow like the wallpaper in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story. If I stay trapped within the walls of her putrid world, I’ll go insane. She’s deceitful like a pretty lemon tart. She began as bright sunshine. A vibrant daffodil or sweet corn. But over time, her brightness dulled, and her true sour taste emerged. I’ve caught her yellow fever, suffering under her pressing craze and deceit. How can she treat me this way? Doesn’t she love me anymore?

  * * * *

  If I never saw Todd Stangman again for the rest of my life, I thought that would be just fine. When I walked into Southeast on Monday morning, I decided I was through with him, and his friend, and their entire group. For good this time.

  Bypassing my locker in fear of running into one of them, I found Laina sitting in the front hall, inhabiting her usual spot not far from the office.

  Speaking to her had never gotten me very far, so I didn’t even bother. I plopped my book bag down next to hers, making her jump and lift her face as I settled cross-legged on the floor, perching my back against the wall. Without saying a word, I pulled out my laptop and booted it up.

  When I noticed she didn’t go back to reading but stared at me with a confounded expression, I winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your story.”

  She glanced around and then came back to blink at me, her book still open and forgotten on her lap.

  I sighed. “I was hoping to avoid a few certain people, but if I’m bothering you, I can sit somewhere else.”

  She swung her head slowly back and forth. “You’re not bothering me.”

  I smiled, the relief probably evident on my face. “Thanks.”

  She watched me for a moment longer as I logged on to the internet. When she didn’t return to her book, I grinned and lifted my face. “Hey, did you know that you could get into Facebook here by typing an—”

  “S after the http? Yeah, I know.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Oh.” There went my grand plan to awe her.

  “But they catch you doing it anyway,” she said. “So I don’t even bother. Besides,” she lowered her eyes to her book, though I could tell she wasn’t reading, “pretty much only my dad and his parents have friended me on Facebook, so…” She shrugged.

  It made me feel bad for her.

  “Well, I’ll friend you.”

  Laina lifted her face. “Really?”

  I nodded but was curious about why she’d mentioned a father and grandparents but no mother. “Do…” I paused, hoping I wasn’t tromping on delicate ice. “Do you not have a mom?”

  “Oh, I do.” She lowered her gaze back to her ignored book. “Somewhere.” The mumbled word she tacked on told me I had indeed elbowed a sensitive issue. Yet she went on to explain the situation anyway. “My mom had an affair and ran off with some guy a few years ago. Dad and I haven’t seen her since.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Oh, man. That’s harsh.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t have a dad,” I said, hoping I could somehow make her feel better about her home life by opening up about mine. “He died when I was three, and my mom just remarried a month ago.” But I’d already figured out I would never think of Barry as an honest-to-goodness father.

  “I know.” Laina lifted her face to look at me. Then she gave a rather mischievous grin as she nodded her head toward the opened door of the counselor’s office. “You’d be surprised all the things you can hear sitting here.”

  My mouth dropped open, shocked mute by a girl I thought was as dry as toast. Then I grinned and the two of us sat there a g
ood ten seconds, just smiling conspiratorially at each other. Leaning a little closer, I asked, “So you know any good dirt you want to share?”

  She shrugged. But the glitter in her eyes told me she had heaps she could share. “I know enough to tell you you’re probably smart to leave behind those certain people you want to avoid.”

  That I already knew. But she made me pull back in astonishment when she crinkled her brow after a thoughtful second and added, “Except maybe Ryder. He’s not like the rest of them. In fact,” she had to pause and blush before ducking her face and admitting, “he’s pretty decent. He helped me open my locker once. I had something jammed in the hinge and it wouldn’t budge. I would’ve been late to class if he hadn’t been walking by and seen me in trouble.”

  I gritted my teeth inside my closed mouth because her story made me thaw toward Ryder, when in truth, I still wanted to lump him with the rest of his friends.

  “I think he’s totally blind to social status. In fact, I bet he’d befriend just about anyone. But that group leaches off him and clusters around him so tight he really doesn’t have a chance to see the rest of us through the trees.”

  I stared, stunned at how right Laina was. Ryder was different; it was his friends—leaching off him as she put it—that had shined a certain light on him and made him appear as someone he wasn’t.

  Suddenly, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to look at him from fresh, knowing eyes and ascertain if I could see that boy I’d met briefly at the basketball game again.

  Snapping my laptop closed, I breathed out, “I have to go. I…I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  Laina gawked at me, clearly confused. But she didn’t ask about my abrupt departure. “O-okay. See you later. I guess.”

  I found Ryder in senior hall. He sat on the floor, doodling in a notebook. With his back pressed to his locker and his knees bent, notepad resting on them, he had very little lap space left for a girl to lay her head. But Kiera had somehow managed to wedge in there, her eyes closed and blond hair spread across his pant leg.

  The sight of her cozied up to him didn’t even deter me.

  “Do you still have my glove?”