Falling From Grace (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  It was then that I opened my eyes, not realizing that I had closed them, and noticed that the crystal seemed to have lost some of its sparkle. Yesterday’s sun was definitely a fluke, I decided as I looked out of my window and saw that the clouds were rolling through, settling in for another rainy October morning. The sunlight that had warmed up the room and had helped the pretty bauble decorate my life with a bit of color was fading behind a gloomy Sunday morning. Sighing, I placed the crystal on the nightstand next to my bed and headed downstairs. My daydreaming had burned a few more minutes away, leaving me absolutely no time to be left alone with Dad while he plotted the dozens of ways he’d kill Robert.

  As soon as my foot hit the bottom step, the doorbell rang. Dad, having forgone his usual routine of sitting at the kitchen table to read his paper and eat his breakfast, had instead placed a cup of coffee and a plate of toast on the coffee table. Alongside them was an unopened paper and a book on first aid. He sat in the recliner, waiting, a contemplative look on his face. I was tempted to ask if the book was for him or Robert, but kept my mouth shut. It just wouldn’t do for me to start running off at the mouth.

  Seeing that he wasn’t going to get up and get the door, I went to answer it. I took a deep breath as I turned the handle on the knob. He was standing there in the same black jacket he had worn the first day that I had seen him. His hair was disheveled, but everything else about him was perfect. His smile was reassuring, and his eyes were full of promise and reassurance. Maybe there wouldn’t be a need for the first aid book after all.

  He looked at me, puzzled, and his eyes softened with humor. Your father has a first aid book out? I could feel him, feel him in my thoughts as he searched my memory for the image, and when he saw it, he smiled. He truly does love you. You are very blessed, Grace.

  I gaped at him. My father was about to give him the third degree and here Robert was, praising the man. Too perfect.

  He grinned and held his arm out to the side of me. “Ladies first.”

  I sighed. Even though it had been only a few minutes since I last heard him speak, hearing the words come out of his mouth reminded much I loved his voice. “You should do that more often,” I prodded, “Just so I don’t ever forget what it sounds like.”

  “I’ll remember to from now on.” His smile was playful, teasing despite the reason his presence was required.

  Entering the living room, I reached for his hand. If Dad was going to give him the third degree, he’d do it while facing me, too. Robert intertwined his fingers with mine. It was the only thing either of us could do before the onslaught of Dad’s anger was upon us.

  He stood in front of the two of us, his arms folded across his chest tightly, as if he were holding them back, and his voice boomed out at Robert in an angry bark. “I want to know why you thought it would be a good idea to remove Grace’s casts.”

  Robert answered the only way he knew how. Honestly. “Because she didn’t need them anymore.”

  Of course Dad wasn’t going to accept that answer, not from some kid, no matter what they did in order to save my life. “That’s absolute crap and you know it. Do you know what kind of damage you could have caused because of your stupidity?”

  I flinched at the insult, and started to speak when the crushing grip of Robert’s hand, and a flurry of thoughts silenced me. “Mr. Shelley, I was wrong to have removed Grace’s casts without your permission, or that of her doctor. I should have left them on until it was advisable by her physician to have them removed. If any harm has come to Grace as a result of my impetuousness, I will never forgive myself.”

  Dad opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it. He paced around for a bit, nodding to himself, then started to say something else, but changed his mind again. He did this twice more, looking like a confused goldfish, before finally speaking again.

  “Robert, I’m taking Grace to the hospital to have her arm and leg re-x-rayed. If she’s suffered any more damage to her breaks because of your foolishness, I will hold you personally and financially responsible. Until I know for sure that she’ll be fine, I think it’s best that the two of you don’t see each other anymore.”

  “Dad!” I protested, “You can’t do that! It was my choice! He wouldn’t have removed the casts if I hadn’t said I wanted him to!”

  Robert again squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, Grace. Your father is right. What’s paramount here is your health and safety. Everything else can wait.”

  Traitor! I looked in Robert’s eyes and simply could not understand when it was that he had decided to aid in Dad’s complicity. I’m fine. You know I’m fine. How can you do this?

  “Let’s go, Grace. Get in the car,” Dad ordered. I took one last look at Robert, his face sad, but his eyes still smiling, and then did as I was told.

  ***

  “See, James. I told you she was okay. You should have listened to me and we could have avoided this entire fiasco.”

  Janice was doing her best to reassure Dad that the doctors had been correct when one by one, they all concurred that my bones were not broken, and that I had healed in a remarkably fast amount of time, although that could have been contributed to my young age, as one doctor had put it. “She’s going to be fine, James.”

  Dad shook his head for the four hundredth time that day—no exaggeration. It was nearly four in the afternoon and we’d seen four different doctors from two different shifts who all gave the same diagnosis regarding my breaks—or lack thereof. Sitting in Dad’s car had taken an act of deception on Janice’s part—a slight fib about being dizzy and nauseated by the hospital smell—but it was a step closer to getting away from the hospital. Without another doctor nearby to accost, Dad was finally coming to grips with the fact that my leg and arm weren’t broken, and that Robert hadn’t placed me in any type of danger.

  Okay, so maybe not that last part. But Janice was wearing him down; I could see it on his face. “James, I don’t see how many more times you have to be told that she’s okay before you finally accept that she is okay.”

  Dad’s hands were gripping the top of the steering wheel, his head resting on them. “You don’t understand, Janice. You don’t understand what this is like.”

  Janice’s hand reached out to comfort him; she stroked his hair, and patted his shoulder. “Tell me then. Tell me so that I can understand, because I really want to. I’m sure Grace would, too.” She turned her head to look at me in the backseat, and I nodded mutely, knowing that saying anything right now would simply set Dad off again, and I didn’t know about Janice but I knew that I personally was quite done with being “that girl with the crazed father”.

  I’d be lucky if I were given an aspirin in this hospital again, much less treated for anything after what Dad had put the staff through today.

  Dad lifted his head and I could see his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes rested on purple half-moons, the exhaustion written quite plainly in them. But there was also something else hidden behind them. Was it fear? I watched as he turned his head towards Janice, and spoke, not necessarily to her.

  “You don’t know what it’s like. After Abby’s accident, everyone kept wondering how anyone could have survived without a scratch or burn on them. The explosion took out a telephone pole that was twenty feet away; twenty feet away! And everyone kept looking at this little girl like she was either some kind of miracle or oddity.

  “But people—people are fickle when it comes to what they like to talk about, what keeps them interested. The miracle of a child surviving a car accident just doesn’t sound as exciting as a child causing the accident and surviving it when her mother didn’t. Grace didn’t remember anything, so the explanations were all based on speculations and assumptions.

  “It doesn’t matter if there’s any truth to the story or not. What matters is what sounds more interesting. This has followed Grace her entire life, and she’s suffered for it. I probably should have moved, rather than subject her to the constant scrutiny she’s had to go
through by some of the kids here, but I couldn’t leave; Abby’s buried here, and I simply couldn’t leave because people were gossiping.

  “And now this—don’t you see what people will say? What they’ll think? She’s going to be ridiculed again, because for whatever reason, she’s not healing like a normal person. Normal people get burned in fires. Normal people get hurt when they’re thrown from vehicles. Normal people’s bones don’t heal in two weeks after being run over by a car.”

  Normal people don’t date angels.

  “James, you’re being ridiculous. I’m sure that-”

  Dad’s anger silenced everything, even my breathing, as he raged. “I’m not being ridiculous! I’m the one who’s raised her, seen the way she’s been left out of everything. I’m the one who’s had to comfort her when the birthday party invitations went to every girl in her class but her, when the kids would tease her because of how she looks; I was the one who watched her grow up with only one friend, and I was the one who watched when that friend left her, too. Don’t tell me that what I’ve seen and what I know will happen is me being ridiculous, Janice!”

  I sat stunned. The memories of my childhood had long since dulled to a mild irritation, but I never knew that they had affected Dad so profoundly. He had never indicated that he’d been distressed by it; I had always thought that he’d simply viewed it as a part of life. And to know that he was aware as to why, that brought our current situation into perspective. More than his fear that I would be hurting myself if my leg and arm were still broken, he was worried about how people would treat me. He was worried about my emotional wellbeing. I rubbed my fingers against my eyes, my tears acting as lubrication.

  “Dad, it’s okay. I don’t care about what they say anymore.” I looked at his face. The pain there added years to his age, and I needed to rid him of that. Rid him of the fear of my own pain and rejection. “I’m going to be fine, Dad. Really.”

  He shifted in the seat to face me, his mouth wore a small frown, and his hair—it was still a mess, but he was Dad. I could see myself in his face, see the parts of him that were shared with me, and I could see the parts that had been my mom’s to keep. And now, those belonged to Janice… “Dad, my life has never been better. I have friends—real friends who don’t care about the accident, or what other people are saying behind my back, or any of that. They care about me—Robert cares about me. I’m not alone in this anymore, Dad. And neither are you. Janice is here with you, too.”

  He looked at Janice, and I could see as his face softened that he knew it, too. If I had had any doubts about Janice remaining, they were gone in that instant. There was definite love there between the two of them. I could see it. And after a moment, I could hear it as they pressed their heads together, whispering the words to each other. It was a scene that was familiar to me in most ways except for one, but I couldn’t afford to be melancholy, not when I already had so much.

  When the car started and we left the hospital parking lot, I stared out of the window. The ride home was a familiar one, and I easily slipped into a moment much like this one, where Dad and I were headed home from the hospital after being told that I was fine, just in shock. Dad hadn’t yelled then, but then again, he didn’t do much of anything. He had simply buckled me in and then drove home. At least this time, he had someone with him other than me.

  As we pulled into the driveway, I could see a Stacy’s Neon and Robert’s motorcycle parked at the curb. Both were leaning against her car, talking and waiting. Stacy’s face was anxious, while Robert’s seemed pleased. I smiled at the thoughts he chose to share with me. Stacy had been caught wind of our date and wanted all of the details. Like a typical girlfriend would. It felt good.

  As we all exited the vehicle, I could see the tenseness that had slightly retreated in Dad suddenly return. And it had brought some friends. “Robert, I would like to have a word with you and Grace inside. Stacy, please excuse us, but this has to be done in private.”

  Stacy nodded, her anxiousness replaced by confusion and curiosity. Janice wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said, more to me than to Dad, “I’ll stay here with her while you go inside and talk.”

  As the three of us walked inside of the house, the flashes of memory stabbed at me—of walking into the house after mom had died—I shook my head at the darkness of the incomplete memory. The silence now was just as stark, just as bleak. I followed Dad into the living room, and sat on the couch as he sat in his recliner. Robert, having nowhere else to sit, sat next to me. Did he dare to hold my hand? Did I? As if to confirm that he’d dare anything, he reached for my hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a very soft kiss at the base of my knuckles, his eyes full of mischief.

  “Ahem.”

  We both turned our heads; Dad’s features were strangely aloof. I could feel my mouth grow slack as he began to talk, a slight smile on his face as he did so. “Robert, I wanted to let you know that you were right about Grace’s injuries. She has healed completely, much to the surprise of the doctors that examined her today. I will admit when I’m wrong, and in this instance, I was. However, your taking of the matter into your hands was unacceptable and irresponsible, and there has to be consequences for your actions. For both of your actions.”

  Robert nodded while I simply gawked. “I understand, sir.”

  Dad rubbed his hands on his knees and continued, “Grace is grounded for the next two weeks. She won’t be allowed to go anywhere, and she won’t be allowed to have any friends over either. She’s just started going back to school, and I think that the distractions that you pose to her wouldn’t be conducive to her studies.

  “Two weeks from now, you’ll be allowed to see her every other day at the house, and you may take her out during the weekends, but she must be home by eleven, regardless of what the function. I will want to meet your parents, of course, and discuss what happened with them so that they can make the proper decisions regarding how they feel you should be punished. And I want a number where I can reach you should anything stupid like this happens again.”

  I started to say something, but Robert squeezed my hand, a warning. Instead, he spoke, “All of that sounds perfectly acceptable, reasonable, and just, sir. Mr. Shelly, if I may. I was wondering if it would be alright if I took Grace to and from school, so that she wouldn’t have to walk or ride her bicycle there.”

  Dad brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it, contemplating the suggestion. “I guess that would be alright. Are you going to be doing so on that bike of yours out there?” he motioned with his head towards the door.

  Robert’s smile was cocky, but he shook his head. “If you’d prefer I pick her up in a car, I have one of those available as well. I simply ride the bike because it’s cheap on gas.”

  The notion that Robert was thinking of economy on something that looked like it cost more than Dad’s car did new was lost on Dad, as he appreciated any sign of frugality. “What kind of car do you own, Robert?”

  I suddenly became the third wheel as Robert leaned forward to answer, “Well, since my eighteenth birthday just passed a couple of weeks ago, I received a car from my mother as a gift.”

  Intrigued, Dad leaned forward, too. “What was it?”

  “A Charger, sir.”

  “What model year?”

  “The latest one, sir.”

  Dad whistled. Dad never whistles. “That’s a very nice gift. What made her choose that one? I would have thought that you’d prefer one of those European models.”

  Robert smiled. “Because it’s an American car. Buy American, that’s what we’re encouraged to do, right?” His British accent never seemed more prominent than it did at that moment, when the word “American” passed through his lips. The tone was the same one he had every time he said the word “human”; it seemed like he was emphasizing the word to hint to us that he was different.

  Whatever the reason, Dad seemed impressed by his answer, and they continued to discuss the virtues of American made vehicles while
I sat silent and entertained myself by staring at my fingernails. Leaving a girl alone in her thoughts was dangerous as I wondered when it was that I had stopped chewing them, because for the first time in years, they looked healthy. Everything looked healthy. My skin this morning had looked pink and flushed, as opposed to the slightly dull and pallid it had always been. My eyes seemed brighter, my hair was, for lack of a better word, glossy, and my lips looked…like they had had their first kiss.

  I brought my fingers to my lips and remembered how careful that first kiss had been. I pressed my fingers against them a bit harder, remembering the second kiss and how less careful it had been, and how controlled Robert had been while I seemed a veritable mess. It didn’t matter that he had the age and experience to be patient, and keep his emotions contained, while I was new to everything. I doubted that I’d ever have felt such an intense heat rushing through me with anyone else as I did with Robert.

  “What’s the matter, Grace? Are you feeling nauseated?”

  Dad’s question caught me off guard, and my hand dropped. “What?”

  “You look a bit flushed, Grace. Perhaps you should lie down.”

  I looked from Dad to Robert, confusion written all over my face. Robert stood up, his eyes sparkling with humor, while Dad’s was filled with concern. “I guess I will be leaving now, Mr. Shelley. Thank you, for allowing me to pick Grace up from school. I shall see you in the morning, Grace.”

  I watched as he left, unable to say anything. I finally whispered a soft “bye” after I heard the door close, knowing that he’d hear it, even if I barely did. It didn’t take long before Stacy and Janice walked in, taking Robert’s departure as their cue that all was clear. I didn’t know what to say to either of them. Stacy wasn’t even supposed to be here anymore, but she wasn’t aware of that yet.