by Clare Revell
“Any new business takes time to get off the ground—and you’re still less than a month into yours. Once word gets out and people know the shop is back, things will pick up, you’ll see. Tilja wasn’t rich, but she made enough to live comfortably.”
“At least I don’t have a mortgage,” she whispered.
“Exactly.” Elliott sipped his drink, the heat from it warming his throat as he swallowed. “And, trust me, you don’t want one of those.”
“Doesn’t your brother help with that?”
“Yes, but it still takes most of what I earn. Just like everyone else.”
“Yeah.”
He watched as she drank, closing her eyes as she swallowed, so obviously savoring the scent and taste of the chocolate. Sadness emanated from every fiber of her being, creating a murky aura around her, one that was almost palpable. What was bothering her? Was it simply the house and shop, or was it something more?
“What are you thinking?”
Her voice jarred him out of his thoughts, and he struggled to reply. “Me?”
“Yeah. You’re sitting there, staring at me.”
Elliott shifted, his cheeks burning, embarrassed at having been caught. “Honestly? I was wondering what made you look so sad.”
“Oh?”
In for the proverbial penny… “Don’t take this the wrong way, but even though you smile and so on, it never seems to come from inside you.”
“There isn’t much to be cheerful about.” Grace set the cup down, her fingers gripping the base. “Not anymore.”
“It’s more than that.” He wanted to reach out, touch her fingers with his, but he kept his hands still. “Or am I wrong?”
He’d hit home, he knew that by the way she fidgeted on her chair and played with the cup. The silence grew, but he wouldn’t speak again. If she chose not to answer that was fine, but he prayed she would. He wanted to help if he could.
Finally she spoke. “I just feel so empty. Everyone else has something I don’t.”
“Like what?” he prompted.
“It varies. A home, family, friends…a life.”
“You have all of those.”
“Not exactly.” Grace sucked in a deep breath. “My home is a space between two houses. My family, what’s left of them, live three hundred miles away. Friends are, well, the least said about that the better, and my life—hah, right.”
Elliott reached over and touched her hand. “OK. Continuing to be blunt here. Your home is where your heart is, or your hat if you go by the song. And don’t point out you don’t have one either.”
“I wasn’t going to, but I can if you want.”
“Your family is always here,” he continued, touching his heart with his free hand. “Distance is no object. Life is what you make of it. Every day is a gift. We chose how to use it.” He held her gaze. “And as for friends? You have Shana and Mandy…and me.”
She didn’t move her hand away from his. “You?”
“Yes, me.” He gently caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I care about you, probably more than I should do. This is hard…” He paused, not sure how to phrase this. “I watched a woman destroy my twin, and I swore that would never happen to me—”
He didn’t want to see her any more. She sighed, she was destructive. Grace frowned and pulled her hand away. “I see. Thank you for the drink. I should get going.” She stood and turned, tugging up her collar in the same movement.
Elliott sat motionless as she hurried from the inn, his insides knotting. What just happened? What had he said to make her leave? He stood, intending to go after her. He had to put it right.
Snow churned around him in a blizzard as he exited the warm building, matching the way his emotions soared and tumbled. His breath hung in the frigid air.
Grace was nowhere in sight.
He was alone.
10
Grace threw herself into the flower shop. Perhaps if she did nothing but work it’d fill the hole inside her. By Saturday, a week had passed without Elliott coming over. She missed the coffee. She missed the contact.
Be honest, Gracie, you miss him.
She glanced at the carnation in her hand as she paused in arranging a bouquet.
OK, yes, I miss him, but after what he said—
And he must have meant it, because he’d stayed away. So much for him being a friend and caring. He was right on every level. She destroyed everything she touched. Things, people, everything. He was better keeping his distance.
And the chasm within her remained as big as ever.
Shana came in, stamping the snow from her boots. An arctic blast shot through the door with her. “Well, they are going to get a white wedding. No way is this going to thaw before next week—not with the forecast anyway. Quite romantic actually. And speaking of romance, have you seen Elliott recently?”
“No, I haven’t.” She frowned. “And romance doesn’t even begin to come into it.”
Shana took off her coat and hung it up. “You reckon? Grace, the man is besotted with you. He brings you coffee and looks out for you. I wish someone did that for me. And I know you feel the same way, the fact you blush when he comes in gives it away.”
“I haven’t seen him in over a week.” Grace laid the carnations in the box and picked up the cellophane. “He hasn’t asked me out on a date, or held my hand, never mind anything else.” The lie pricked at her conscience. She ignored it. Touching her hand briefly didn’t count. Nor did dinner when he’d asked. “Besides…”
“Besides, what?” Shana came over and started helping with the orders.
“Nothing.” Grace shrugged. “He made it clear on Sunday how he felt. So that’s an end of it.”
“What happened on Sunday?”
“It’s nothing. Anyway, I’m thinking about going back to Ely. Getting a manager in to run this place.”
“You’re leaving?” Shana’s face fell. “Why?”
“This was a mistake.”
Mandy frowned. “But you’re so good with the flowers now. That arrangement in the window is amazing. The customers love you. The distributer you found is fantastic. You can’t leave. I’ll beg if I have to.”
“Don’t,” Grace said. She could see the disappointment on the girls’ faces and a spear pierced her anew. She had no choice. She couldn’t stay.
“Elliott will miss you.”
“No, he won’t.”
“I won’t what?” Elliott asked from the doorway. He held out three cups. “Coffee, ladies?”
Shana grinned. “Thank you. We’ll take ours out the back as it sounds like the lorry just arrived. Come on, Mandy.” She took the cup and dashed out the back, Mandy right behind her.
Grace could feel her cheeks burning as Elliott turned that intense blue gaze of his on her.
“Well?” he asked. “I won’t what?”
“Shana reckons you’ll miss me when I leave.”
Shock resonated on his face and in his eyes and his whole body stiffened. “You’re leaving?”
“It’s for the best.”
He frowned. “Where did you get that idea from?”
“You said it on Sunday, but I knew before that.” The phone rang. “Excuse me.” She turned her back on him, grabbing it before Shana had chance to answer it out the back. She’d never been so relieved to answer a call. “Carnation Street Florist, Grace speaking. How can I help you?”
~*~
Elliott stood for a moment, then left, tweaking his sleeve. What have I done? He trudged back over to the building site, shoulders slumped. He’d been too busy working this week to stop by; he wasn’t ignoring her. He’d been plucking up the courage to say what he wanted. But what was the point now if she was leaving?
The site was quiet as most of the workers had gone on a break. He made his way up the ladder to the loft. The beginnings of the attic room were taking shape nicely. He leaned against the angled beam and sighed. The phone rang and he answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, El.�
�� Joel sounded way too cheerful. “Did you ask her? What did she say?”
“I didn’t ask her.”
“You’re kidding. Why not?”
“She’s leaving,” he whispered. “There’s no point.” He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He grabbed his tool belt, fastening it around his waist. The house needed finishing. Just because she wasn’t going to live here, didn’t mean he couldn’t do it for her.
Perhaps she’d change her mind? Then again, she probably wouldn’t. He’d left it too late. So afraid of asking, he’d lost his one and only chance. So instead, he’d put all his feelings for her into this house, even if she’d never get to see it completed or live there.
~*~
Grace stood out the back, double checking the orders before Mandy delivered them. She really needed to organize a van before she left; they couldn’t use her car once she’d gone.
Joel appeared beside her. “Hi. Mandy said it was OK to come through.”
Grace managed a smile. “Sure it is. What can I do for you?”
“Elliott says you’re leaving.” His words were blunt, his tone as icy as his gaze.
She stiffened. “I suppose the whole town knows, does it?”
“Actually, he only told me because I asked him if he’d asked you out yet.”
The sheets of paper fell from her hands to the bench. Grace looked at him, her jaw falling open. Surely, he was having her on or she’d misheard him. “What?”
“He came over here to ask you out.”
“But I thought…” She pushed her hand through her hair, stunned, unable to focus her frozen mind. “Sunday he said I destroyed things. Just like every woman. And he wasn’t going to let it happen to him. He’s avoided me all week…”
“Actually, he’s been working eighteen hours a day on your house. He hasn’t even stopped for lunch. And when he isn’t working, he’s praying for you and agonizing over how he feels.”
“How he feels? He made that pretty clear the other day.”
Joel shook his head and his foot tapped with what was apparent impatience. “You don’t get it. He’s never allowed himself to feel his emotions. Not since…not for years. He doesn’t like the out of control way he feels right now and he’s scared. He’s frightened of letting go and terrified of getting hurt. Not that he’ll admit it. And you hurt him without even trying.”
“I didn’t know.” She looked down. “I—”
Joel spun on his heel. “Perhaps you should take a long hard look at yourself and the effect your actions have on others.”
“Me?” she spluttered.
He paused in the doorway. “Yes, you. The past couple of weeks, El’s changed. He’s come alive, well, part of him has, and there was nothing—” He broke off. “Forget it.”
Grace watched him go, rivers of shock running through her. What had she done? The comments had come from him, not her, but it just served to prove her right. Her nickname shouldn’t be Amazing Grace.
It should be Grace, destroyer of lives.
She headed outside and sat on the bench in the snow, gazing over at the house. She wished again that Aunt Tilja were here. She’d have known what to do. She did before.
Sitting there in the bitter cold, the whole sorry mess unfolded in her mind, the same way it happened the first time.
~*~
She fled the university hall of residence in tears, caught a train south, and ended up at Aunt Tilja’s. Falling into her aunt’s arms, the tears had started again, until the whole sorry story poured from her.
“I thought he loved me, but all he wanted was…was…”
Aunt Tilja handed her the box of tissues. “Why did you give in?”
“Everyone else was doing it,” Grace sobbed. “I thought…he said he was a Christian, too, and it would prove I loved him.”
“That isn’t how Christians behave and you know it.”
“I guess so.” She shook, cheeks burning at the memory. “He took photos, sent them to everyone. I can’t go back. I’m never going to get involved with anyone again. I’ll stay single. Like you.”
“I had a young man once. He broke my heart when he ran off with my best friend. But my mother warned me it wouldn’t work anyway, because we were unevenly yoked. Only someone who believes what you do, can really be your soul mate, and understand.”
“But he said he was.” Grace shook her head. “If that’s how Christians act, then I don’t want to be one anymore. Or have anything to do with them and church.”
“Does that include me?” Aunt Tilja’s face fell.
Grace shook her head. “No. I love you. I always will. But I can’t go back.”
“Then don’t. Do something else. Do what you’ve always done when things get tough—run away.”
She scowled, tears forgotten. “I don’t run away. It was Hope who left, not me. I’m still here, not that anyone cares about that.” She paused. “You know what they’re calling me, right?”
“And if it was some other girl in your situation, would you do the same thing?”
Her cheeks burned. “I’d hope not.”
“Grace, sweetheart, I know it hurts. But you can’t let them see that, or let this boy ruin your life. Go back and finish your course—you’ve only got nine months or so left. Act like you don’t care, even when you do. They will stop the teasing if it has no effect.” Aunt Tilja hugged her. “I promise, it’ll all blow over.”
~*~
Grace shivered and rubbed the snow off her arms. She’d gone back to university, but her former boyfriend hadn’t been there. Rumors abounded as to his whereabouts. He’d been arrested for assault, for having indecent photos on his phone, for distributing the images, or his parents had simply withdrawn him. She never found out the reason and honestly didn’t care. Without him around, the talk about her died down.
The incident was never mentioned again. Grace threw herself into her studies and graduated with a first class honors degree. Her ability to enter into a relationship vanished. Along with any like or respect for men, the church, and Christians. But sitting there in the snow, watching the way the roads and paths vanished, she knew she wasn’t totally blameless. It had taken two, she’d agreed, she knew what she was doing.
Did she know now? Was she running away and not facing up to things? What did she want?
Elliott. She wanted a relationship with Elliott. But she’d blown that one.
He’d want nothing to do with her now, and even less when he knew the truth. He’d never consider being unevenly yoked. But going back to church wasn’t something she could do for him. She knew enough to know that any kind of faith had to be made for the right reasons and the only way to work that out would be to go to church and listen to what the preacher had to say.
She sucked in a deep breath and pushed upright. Brushing the snow from her clothes, she headed back inside.
Mandy grinned at her. “Hey, it’s a snowwoman. You OK?”
“Just cold. I was thinking.” Grace tilted her head. “Are either of you any good with HTML?”
“We both are,” Shana said. “Why?”
“Then what say you both to a little overtime tonight? We could go upstairs, order pizza and work on the website. Me and HTML don’t get along so good.”
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Only cowards run away.” Grace looked at them. “And I’m tired of being a coward. This is a new start, and I intend to stick it out, come what may.” And that included running from God. Never did Jonah any good.
“Good,” Mandy said. “And let’s face it, can’t get any worse, can it?”
Shana elbowed her. “Don’t say that, just in case.”
Mandy laughed. “Anyway, it’s a bit cold in the new shirts. So if you close before summer it’s a waste of money.”
Grace winked. “Then it’s a good job I got hoodies as well. They came this morning. I have them upstairs.”
The girls grinned. “Really?”
“And as it’s almost
five,” she continued, “let’s close up. You can try them on, and we’ll order dinner.”
Half an hour later, pizza ordered and on the way, Grace watched in awe as Mandy and Shana, both still wearing the new hoodies, made short work of the website.
She’d struggled to do one page in a week, and the girls did five pages in twenty minutes. Maybe she just delegated this as well.
Blue lights flashed through the curtains.
Mandy rose and peeked outside. “There’s an ambulance over the road, and a police car. Can’t see what’s going on, though, it’s too dark. Pizza’s here, though.”
Grace stood. “I’ll go and get it.” She ran downstairs to the shop front and paid for the pizza. There was an awful lot of activity across the road, but it was hard to make out what was happening. She decided it was either the old lady in forty-one or the pregnant lady in forty-seven. Closing the door against the cold, she headed back upstairs.
~*~
Almost tempted to ask Elliott for a lift to church the following morning, she didn’t. This was something she had to do for herself. His words from the sermon last week, had been needling her all night long, along with what Aunt Tilja had told her. She didn’t need religion, she needed Jesus, and the only place she could think of to find Him was in Elliott’s church.
She climbed into her car and drove at a snail’s pace along the snowy roads. She parked and walked around to the church, managing to lose her footing five times. The bloke on the door seemed familiar. Perhaps she’d seen him at the funeral or around town somewhere.
He smiled at her as he shook her hand. “Hi. Grace, isn’t it?”
The fact he knew her name when she didn’t know his, made Grace tilt her head. “Yeah, it is.”
“Liam Page, it’s good to see you here this morning.” The Irish accent was the clincher. He’d been in the shop a couple of days previously and bought roses for his wife.
“Thank you.”
Someone else handed her a service sheet and she slid into a seat at the back. That way she could see Elliott when he arrived, but wouldn’t have to speak to him. She shook her head. You’re so acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, Gracie. Time to grow up.
