Falling From Grace (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  “You won’t have to explain them to me, Robert. My God, I watched you die in my arms. There is nothing else in my world—or yours—that could ever make me feel as alone and helpless as I did then. I think I can deal with you leaving to do what you were meant to do if I know you’ll be coming back to me.” I turned in his arms to look at him.

  There was a stubborn set in his jaw, but he also had a smile that quite possibly melted every single bone in my body, including the ones that he had healed. Grace, what kind of a normal life is this? What seventeen-year-old has a boyfriend who keeps leaving for reasons he cannot explain?

  I twisted my body around so that I was fully facing him, and took his face into my hands. “This seventeen-year-old has a boyfriend who will be leaving to do what he was born to do, and I will be waiting for him when he gets back. Robert, I know I kept saying that I want a normal life, but what I think what I failed to communicate to you is that I have it. Normal is having friends, and falling in love with someone who loves you back. I have that. I have more than that. I have you. If you don’t want me, if you don’t want me in your life, then you are going to have to say it, otherwise I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

  Robert leaned in and placed his hands on my face, mirroring my hands on his. Not want you in my life? You are the reason I exist!

  With our faces just inches apart, there was no hiding our emotions. We could see it in each other’s eyes, see it in the tug of our smiles. He pulled my face closer, while raising his. I let go of him and closed my eyes as he gently kissed my eyelids, one after the other. I felt his cheek press against my forehead, and heard him sigh, felt his breath blow across my skin.

  You do not know how unbelievably decadent this is. I can feel the blood beneath your lids, feel your eyes move beneath them.

  He brought his face down level with mine again and brushed my nose with his. With a soft exhalation, he kissed the tip of my nose, and then brushed his nose against my cheek. Everywhere he nudged with his nose, he kissed. Once, twice, even three times, each time sighing, as though it was his first kiss. Of course, I sighed, too. It wasn’t like the first time. There was so much…more. There was just more.

  When he reached my lips, he just tickled the corner of my mouth, and then very lightly brushed it with his lips. It wasn’t dissimilar to all of the kisses we has previously shared in its manner, but there was something lurking behind it, something that I could sense that caused a shiver to run up my spine. I inhaled his heavenly scent as he exhaled slowly before leaning in and carefully molding his lips to mine.

  I had known exquisite joy before in Robert’s kisses. I had felt the electricity and the fire that ran through my body, under my skin, out through my limbs with each one of his kisses, each one of his embraces. But this time…this time it felt as though my bones had melted away, and the white heat of my core had replaced them with pure, molten fire. As always, I had a difficult time breathing, but this time I knew that if he stopped, I wouldn’t even be able to restart until he kissed me again.

  I tried to raise my hands to tangle in his hair, wanting to bring him closer, be closer—the need to have him be engulfed in the need within me so strong I knew I was going to suffocate in it if I didn’t let it have its way—but they were being held firmly in place. I moaned my distress as Robert pulled away from me, a strange look covering his face.

  This is dangerous.

  I knew it was. We were both breathless, and I was willing to allow him to rip my arms out if it meant he’d kiss me again.

  Grace, I’m being serious here. I-I don’t know how to handle myself—these feelings are too new. They’re my own and I don’t know what to do; I never thought I’d be able to feel so much, feel so intensely. Your feelings are mixed with them too, and its combination is—it’s just so strong.

  “You’re strong. I think I’m fairly adequate for a human. Let’s be strong together,” I panted, and leaned up to kiss his chin.

  He laughed quietly, but pulled away. Grace, please. Allow me some time to get used to this. I promise it won’t be like the last time I needed to get used to my emotions.

  Knowing that there really wasn’t anything that I could do to change his mind, I sighed and relaxed; my heart was still racing and my breathing still ragged, heady with the knowledge that I was affecting him the same way that he was affecting me, the same way that he had always affected me.

  I’m far more affected than you could possibly know.

  He leaned back and pulled me with him, resting my head on his chest. I placed my hand over the spot where his heart was; I was overcome with a deep sadness as I realized the sacrifice that he had made just to live. He placed one hand on my head, the other captured the one on his chest, and he took a deep breath, his exhale perfumed and warm against my ear. I won’t miss it. Your voice is the only sound I need to hear to know that I’m alive.

  ***

  We went back to school the following Monday two different people. While before, we’d walk side by side but not touching, or we’d sit in classes together, our bodies facing forward but our faces turned towards each other; now Robert enjoyed holding my hand as we walked together, his body would be turned towards mine, and mine to his in class. His chaste kisses on my forehead remained, but they no longer felt that way. It didn’t matter that he had yet to kiss me on the lips again after that Halloween night. I had faced losing him forever. A few days or weeks wasn’t going to make that much of a difference anymore.

  And that Monday held for me something that I had been desperately wanting. Robert and Graham somehow came to an understanding about their differences.

  “Thank you, for saying what you did to Grace,” Robert had told him during lunch. He had walked over to the football table with me in tow, and held his hand out to Graham. “You’re her best friend, and you know her best. You were right when you said that she can be trusted, and now I know that when she says you can be as well, she’s right.”

  Graham stood up and looked at me standing shyly behind Robert, my face peeking out from underneath his arm. He winked at me and took Robert’s hand in his. “No problem. I meant what I said, too. I’m glad that you’re able to make her happy in the way that I can’t. I don’t think you deserve her, of course. I don’t think anyone really does. But you come close, and I can’t hate you for that.”

  With the two of them smiling at each other, it was easy to imagine that they could be friends; the two most handsome guys in school, one blonde and effervescent, the other dark and broody.

  I again felt that bubble of giddiness within me as I finally saw the pieces of my life fall into place. Normal was feeling very good indeed.

  The rest of the week went by in a blur. We had amassed our own little group during lunch as Graham had taken to sitting with us now that the feud between him and Robert had come to an end. Lark had all but abandoned the gaggle of girls who had followed her around like little ducklings to sit with us, and Stacy had swallowed her distaste for Graham just enough to be able to laugh once in a while when he cracked a joke.

  This group would eventually move to my house after school, with Graham and Stacy trickling in after their respective practices. Stacy had insisted that I finally start taking classes at her dad’s Tae Kwon Do school. Of course, when she told me about the payment, I nearly balked.

  “I have to scrub the floors?”

  Stacy smirked. “What? I do it every day! At least this way, you can help me and we’ll get out faster. Come on! You said you wanted to learn, and now you can for free! I told you I’d give you the family discount—I just didn’t tell you that it’ll just cost you a little elbow grease.”

  “That’s not free,” I muttered, but agreed to starting the following week.

  I wasn’t prepared for the drastic change in Stacy when I showed up for my first class. Standing among five and six-year-olds, I had already felt foolish, but these kids had been with Stacy for at least a month, and they were already far more knowledgeable than I was
and she never seemed to fail to point that out.

  It took me that entire first week to learn the terms and commands, not to mention the motions and positions. I estimated it’d take me until my twenty-first birthday to be able to catch up to the level that they were at now. And boy, did those kids like to remind me of that fact.

  And, as if it weren’t bad enough that I had to learn with basically infants who were far more skilled at this than I was, I had to practice what I was learning with Stacy, whom I knew could take out a quarterback without touching him. It was like living in a sitcom, and I was the running gag.

  By the time Thanksgiving had arrived, I looked like a walking eggplant. I had never felt so bruised and useless in my life. Robert had wanted to heal me after each and every grueling practice, but I insisted that he leave me to heal on my own. It wasn’t that bad, really. For whatever reason, the pain was far easier to deal with than I had thought. After one particularly rough session, I thought back to the punch I had thrown at Lark, and recalled how shocked Robert had been that I hadn’t felt any tenderness.

  Though I was sore and stiff, I knew that I should have felt worse. I should have been incapacitated in some way, because Stacy hadn’t held back during sparring. I could see it in the intensity in her face, and the way her body moved way too fluidly. She wasn’t applying any tension, just letting the movement flow from her into me. I should definitely have felt worse.

  On Thanksgiving day, Robert, Ameila, and Lark arrived at my house for dinner, each of them wielding a casserole of some kind; Janice had invited them, insisting that they were now part of our family. Robert liked that idea a great deal, and I admitted to myself that I enjoyed the sound of that as well.

  With the six of us scattered around the living room and kitchen, eating, cooking, and talking, the house was filled with a warmth that it hadn’t seen in a very long time. I could sense it, feel it absorbing the conversation and the emotion that it had been missing for so long. Our cozy little house needed this, I realized.

  As we all sat around the folding table that Dad had set up in the living room to eat, I realized how thankful I was. So much so that when we started going around the table to announce what we were thankful for, all I could say was “I just am”.

  “Well, that’s…erm, nice, Grace,” Dad mumbled.

  Robert winked at me and squeezed my hand underneath the table. “I’m thankful to you, Mr. Shelley, and to Grace’s mother, for bringing her in into the world. She has changed my life, and I cannot begin to express my gratitude to you for making that possible.”

  Dad seemed to puff up with pride at Robert’s statements, and Janice smiled at his reaction.

  “I’m also thankful for your father, Grace,” Ameila spoke up then, and raised her glass of water to Dad. “You have blessed us with your gracious hospitality, and I ask that your home always be blessed with an abundance of love and warmth such as we feel here today.”

  Dad stared mesmerized at Ameila, as most men were, and raised his glass, stuttering out a broken “thank you” before nervously taking a sip of water. Janice seemed amused by the display and turned to Lark, waiting to hear what she was thankful for.

  “I’m thankful for meeting genuine people who don’t want anything from me that I can’t give.” It was matter of fact. It was succinct. It was Lark.

  “Well, I guess that leaves me then, huh?” Janice laughed. “I’m thankful for this opportunity at having a family, with James and Grace, and with the new baby on the way, too. I am also thankful that you are here, Mrs. Bellegarde, as well as your children, who have become such an important part of Grace’s life.

  “You have done so much for us just by being there for her, and I don’t think either James or I could ever repay you for any of it. I also think it would be safe for me to say that Grace’s mother would thank you as well. And, I am thankful for you, Grace. If not for you, I wouldn’t be here today. I know what it took for you to welcome me into your life, and for that, I will always, always be thankful.”

  I could feel the blush rise up in my cheeks as the words reminded me how foolish and selfish I had been. I turned to look at Robert, remembering that the day that had been the turning point in my relationship with Janice had also been the day that I had first met him. He had changed my life in so many ways, in such a short amount of time, it seemed like there wasn’t enough time to appreciate or experience it all. I wasn’t about to waste a single moment.

  The rest of the meal was filled with light conversation between Ameila and Janice. Dad and Robert discussed the virtues of standard transmissions versus automatic ones, and Lark and I were left to our own silent conversation.

  So how’s the butt kicking going? Lark looked at me, a smirk tilting up one side of her face.

  It’s going. I responded, lifting up my arm to show the nice smattering of bruises that spread across it. I know it’s not as pretty as the one that you gave me, but it’s still quite fun to poke and watch it change color. I demonstrated by pressing my finger into the center of one, causing the purple color to push away, leaving behind a small yellow dot that quickly faded through reds, greens, and finally back to its original purple when I removed my fingertip.

  Hold on now, let’s get one thing clear. You punched me, which means you gave yourself that nice little bruise.

  I grinned. It doesn’t explain why my hand bruised the way that it did, though. Maybe I’m just allergic to you.

  She snorted. It was a typical Lark response. I was waiting for her to reply with some snappy remark but instead her eyes darted to Robert, who had suddenly gone quiet. Ameila, too, had suddenly stopped talking. Dad and Janice both became aware of the eerie quiet that had quickly taken over the house.

  “I’m very sorry, Janice—James, but we have to leave. There’s something urgent that we have to take care of,” Ameila said apologetically as she stood up, Robert and Lark mimicking her motions with perfect synchronicity. “Thank you very much for such a wonderful meal. I hope that we can do this again sometime soon.”

  The rest of us stood up as well, although not as gracefully or with as much purpose—well, Dad and Janice didn’t anyway. I could see the urgency in Robert’s eyes. What’s wrong?

  He turned to thank Dad and Janice for dinner and then grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the door. It’s time.

  I looked at him, confusion and fear flooding back to me in one familiar tidal wave of panic. Time for what?

  He touched my face with the back of his hand, calming my jittery nerves. Grace, it’s the call. I can hear the singing. I’m being called up.

  Suddenly, all my postulating about being okay with him receiving the call went out the proverbial window as I clung to his arm, my hands suddenly slick with nervousness and fear. Will you come back? Will you come back to me?

  He lowered his face to mine, still brushing cheek with his knuckles, and gently pressed his lips to mine. It had been our first kiss in four weeks—and it was in farewell.

  In that moment, I didn’t care that Dad was probably right behind me, or that it might seem desperate. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed myself into him. I felt his body tense, and prepared myself for his rejection, prepared myself to fight for just a few seconds more of being close to him. Instead, his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me in closer than I was able to against his solid steel frame.

  His lips, once light and nearly imperceptible, became hard and insistent. I could feel the pulse in my lips flow through his, taking with it all of my love, and returning with all of his. When he finally pulled away, I realized that I hadn’t been breathing, and I gasped, the air rushing through my lungs like a bittersweet elixir.

  It had only been a few seconds of time, and there had been no thoughts shared, but I knew—I knew that this wasn’t a “see you later” kiss. It was a goodbye. I stood at the doorway as he rushed out, Lark and Ameila already in his car, their faces somber, both knowing what I already knew. I felt the tears flow down my face, mixed tears of jo
y that he had finally received the only thing he had ever truly desired, and tears of sadness because I did not know if I’d ever see him again because of it.

  I wiped them away quickly and waved as they pulled off. I knew this was coming, I told myself. If I was having buyer’s remorse now, it was my own fault. I stayed at the door until long after they had driven out of sight. Convinced that there had been no mistake, and that they wouldn’t be returning, laughing at the bad little joke they had played on us, I quietly closed the door and helped Janice clear away the food, methodically putting the food into baggies for leftovers and freezing for later.

  “Grace, I’ll wash the dishes. Why don’t you go upstairs and finish that paper you’ve got to do,” Janice suggested, her face a mixture of concern and sympathy. She might not have known what was going on, but she surely knew that whatever it was that had happened had changed things for me.

  Slowly, I climbed up the stairs, each step getting harder and harder, my feet feeling heavier as I went. I opened the door to my room half hoping that he’d be there, sitting on my bed like he normally was, a “just kidding” poised on his lips. Seeing that it was empty, I felt my heart sink even further. I should be feeling happy for him. I knew that this was coming. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.

  I walked over to the window and stuck my head outside of. I knew it wouldn’t be there—no motorcycle, no Charger, and no dark mist slowly creeping to come and find me and make things better—but I still had to look.

  I pulled myself back in and sat on the edge of the bed. Something crumpled underneath me, and I shifted over, grabbing a piece of paper from beneath me. I recognized Robert’s handwriting immediately. The flowing, flourished script was unmistakable.

  Wait for me.

  On the bed where the paper had been was something long and dark. I picked it up and gasped. It was a black feather. I clutched the letter and the feather to my chest and laid down on the bed. He loved me enough to come back from the dead, but did he love me enough to come back to me from Heaven?