by Anne Conley
He managed a grimace as he swung his feet out of the bed and was rewarded with a look of alarm from Grace. Not wanting to add to her distress, Rafe gave up. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hunched over to look into her eyes.
"Death is a part of life, Grace. You can't save everybody. That's not how it's supposed to be."
She nodded, still dejected. "I know that, but it still doesn't make it easier to see dead children, Rafe. These kids had their whole life ahead of them. And now, they're not going to get to do the things that kids should be doing." He watched as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.
He grabbed her hands in his, holding them palm up. "When we're in the womb, as embryos, our fingers are webbed." He traced her fingers with his. "The cells of the webbing die, so that we have fingers and thumbs. To separate us from the beasts." He could see goosebumps rise on her forearms at his touch. "White blood cells, the cells that fight disease, they make us well and then they die." His earnest gaze searched hers, checking for understanding. They held only grief and sadness. Her mouth turned down at the corners, and he ached to kiss it. But he also knew that this wasn't the time.
“Cancer patients take chemotherapy and radiation treatments, which kill everything inside the body to get the cancer cells. With death, there is new life, Grace." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, not sure whether or not to impart the next bit of wisdom. Some found comfort in the words, while others were repulsed. "Some actually believe Jesus died on the cross so we could live. It's God's way." She looked up at him, surprise evident in her expression. "Yes, I said it. I don't know if you believe, or not, but there it is." His finger traced the frown on her mouth, willing it to turn up into a small smile. "Death brings life," he repeated. "I hope that helps. A little." He retrieved his hands from her, before he lost control of them.
Grace nodded, still silent. Rafe laid back down on his bed, watching her intently. She seemed to withdraw inside herself, and he felt confident that she hadn't accepted what he'd said, yet. Maybe she just needed to think about it. Grace looked him in the eyes and finally smiled, but the smile was superficial and didn't reach her eyes. It tugged at his heart.
She got under her covers and looked at him, across the expanse that bridged the two beds. "Thank you, Rafe." She said before closing her eyes. "That was a really nice thing to say." He sighed heavily before rolling over to pretend to be asleep.
The dream was the same as it had been, only this time the scorching heat was accompanied by the smell of sewage, remnants of the receding floodwaters. As Grace looked behind her on the Sea Wall, she could see debris that had been piled up by the bulldozers in the clean-up efforts. She knew that if she walked over there, the skin on the bottoms of her feet would burn on the sand that had been baking in the sun. She scanned the water again, looking for the little boy who had gone in to cool off.
He was gone.
She jumped off the stand and ran over the scorching sand to save him. Diving into the water, she felt its coolness surround her as she went over the steps of the save in her head. Pumping her arms and legs furiously to reach the boy before the inevitable, she knew that in this dream, as in all others, she wouldn't save him. When she reached the spot where the boy had been, she looked back at the beach.
Empty.
Resignation rose within her as she dove below the water to search for the boy. Opening her eyes under the water, she didn't feel the salty sting. She wasn't looking through the cloudy murk that usually accompanied the gulf waters.
Everything was clear, and she saw him.
He had sunk just a few feet down, and his lifeless eyes were opened to her frozen in panic. A rope tied around his waist sank down into the depths, out of sight. She reached down and pulled on the rope, her lungs feeling tight from holding her breath. Grace couldn't go back for more air though. She had to see what Alex was tied to.
As she pulled on the rope, she felt herself go deeper in the water. Her hair flowed around her face as a man's form began to emerge from the depths. He was tied to something. She pulled again, going deeper.
A woman came out of the deep, her nightgown floating up to expose thick, creamy thighs that had small bites in them from the sea creatures. She was tied to something. Grace's air was painfully stale, but she kept pulling on the rope. Trepidation filled her joints.
Grace's lungs tightened in a scream that she withheld. Some morbid fascination held her captive. As she pulled on the rope, she went deeper, her lungs screaming for release.
A little girl, also wearing a nightgown, this one with Disney princesses on it, came floating up out of the bottom of the Gulf. Her eyes were open, lifeless. Grace could feel the pressure in her ears, as she continued pulling on the rope that connected the little girl. She knew what she would find, but was powerless to stop herself.
When the baby at the end of the rope came into view, Grace's lungs exploded into a scream.
Then everything went green.
She awoke, gasping in a cold sweat, her sheets tangled around her legs and a strong arm embracing her from behind.
"Shh…Grace. It was a bad dream. It's not real." Rafe's voice soothed her jangled nerves, but the tears wouldn't stop.
"But it is real. They're dead."
His voice in her ear calmed her. "But it's not your fault, Grace." The way her name fell from his lips shrouded her in a sense of peace. His fingers came up to her face, wiping the trail her tears had left, leaving warmth in their wake. She rolled onto her back to see him propped up on one elbow watching her, his arm still covering her protectively.
As his massive hand spanned her belly, she felt her heart rate slow, her breathing even out. Laying here, in his arms, she felt as if he would do anything to chase away her nightmares.
"I would," he whispered.
She wasn't feeling herself right now. Remnants of the nightmare clung to her like cobwebs, and she couldn't quite shake them. "Did I say that aloud?"
Rafe's arm tightened around her waist, and he snuggled into her neck. His breath sent shivers coursing through her body.
Brad never made me feel like this.
She and Rafe had grown close these past few days. He had become a great friend, but the kiss they'd shared right before the tornado haunted her. She had tried not to think about it, had buried it beneath her tasks that she'd taken on. But it bubbled beneath the surface, like lava. Like everything else about Rafe, the kiss swirled around her consciousness, a frenetic presence that couldn't be ignored.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His voice in her ear was a warm murmur.
She shook her head. "About what?"
"Whatever it is that's got you so quiet. You're thinking about something heavy, I can tell."
She turned her face to his and realized that he was right there. Their noses were almost touching. The look in his eyes held desire in giant watery green pools. She was granted an image of them, inside her head. They were together, bodies entwined, sweaty caresses, gasping breaths. She felt herself stiffen in his arms. "No. I--" The image faded to a different one, of them together, a memory of the two of them on the couch in their house, sitting next to each other, watching movies, eating popcorn. Suddenly, she couldn't speak, couldn't find words, or breathe. He was in her space, using her air, stealing her thought processes.
Grace threw his arm off her and sat up, reeling from his spicy, sweet scent.
He groaned, almost inaudibly, as he rolled over to get up from the other side of the bed and limp around to his own.
"I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean anything by it."
"By what?"
"I-I figured you could read my face." He sat on the bed across from her again. "The thoughts consuming me, must have been written all over it." He laid down, pulling his feet up under the covers. "I know you are thinking about those people you found." Covering himself up with the sheet, he continued, “But you are still living. And you are a good person. I care about you.” He looked like he was going to say someth
ing else, but thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. He rolled over in his bed, his back to Grace, effectively shutting her out. Her heart sank to her belly, in an uncomfortable lump of stone.
When Grace woke the next morning, after not sleeping well, she watched Rafe as he lay in the bed next to hers. He was a good man, a wonderful friend, and…something more? Could he be? His face in repose, was more attractive than any man had a right to be. Strong cheekbones, straight nose, full lips, slightly open…she resisted the urge to lean over and run her fingers through his hair, flowing over his pillow.
She sighed inwardly and turned to get ready for her day, as silently as possible, so as not to disturb him.
Grace reminded herself of Jeannie her mom and Carl the boyfriend. Since Carl had come into Jeannie's life, she had made him and his needs her first priority, effectively shunting Grace to the side. She called it love, but Grace knew that it was because of Carl's looks, initially at least. She did everything for that man, even when he didn't deserve it, and when he did something to hurt her, she apologized for making him do it. He used her generosity, her body, her kindness. Carl took and took and took and left Jeannie with nothing for Grace. Carl was the reason she couldn't do anything with Rafe. Carl was the reason that Grace made it a rule to stay away from gorgeous men with breath-taking smiles.
Then she remembered all they'd been through in the short time they'd known each other, and sighed. She couldn't deny that they had some sort of connection, and whatever it was scared her. The kiss they had shared spoke of a wild intensity that she wouldn't be able to turn away from. Rafe would be anything but her usual friends with benefits. It would be crazy, passionate, and heartbreaking. She had no idea what she was going to do with Rafe.
None whatsoever.
Chapter Fourteen
Grace's morning proceeded much like the one before, minus the dead bodies, thankfully. She doled out fresh water to one shelter after another, until they all had their daily rations. The misery of the families at each one was greater than yesterday, as another day without homes sunk into their weary bones.
At the last shelter, the school that she and Rafe had taken refuge in, Abigail was playing outside with her mother watching her carefully. Grace smiled and waved at the girl, who smiled back, but was too intent on the sunshine to really care about much else.
Grace's thoughts returned to the family found yesterday, who would never see the sunshine again, then to her nightmare last night, and she suppressed the chill that overtook her in the oppressive heat.
"Hey, baby." A familiar voice jarred her out of her thoughts. It was Brad, and he was holding his arms out for a hug.
She allowed herself the comfort of a hug from something familiar. "I'm so glad you're okay." She was relieved to see him. Things with Rafe had gotten too weird last night, and she needed some normalcy. Brad was safe and normal.
"Me too. I stayed inland with my mom.” He let her go, but clasped her arms. “Hey, my apartment isn't damaged. It was on the other side of the island and up enough floors to be okay. The inspectors have declared it A-OK, so…what do you say?" His eyebrows waggled suggestively, and Grace felt a rise of nausea. His suggestion right after her thoughts of the dead family was distasteful to her.
"Brad, you haven't been here. This has been awful." She twisted out of his arms. "I'm not in a good place to be thinking about that, right now." And you're not Rafe, she thought to herself. Then guilt started eating at her. She really wasn't totally being fair.
"I'm sorry, honey. I am just so glad to see you. But I understand," he amended, quickly, pulling her back to him. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." She returned the hug, glad to have the familiarity of his presence.
"What do you say, after we finish today, I take you back to your hotel, and you can get your things and come stay with me until you get a new place? Let me try again?"
She went rigid. "Um, you mean, move in with you? I don't think so, Brad."
"Just stay for a little while…We don’t have to try again. We can just be roomies."
Grace looked in his eyes and saw nothing but compassion. She hated this. He was always trying to move too fast with her. "The insurance company will pay for thirty days at a hotel, I'm going to use that. I'm not going to move in with you."
He let go of her, sighing heavily. “I know. I just wanted another shot. I’m really sorry, and the thought of you with him…”
She squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Well, then, just don’t think about it. We’ve broken up, Brad. I’m not going to move in with you to alleviate your jealousy."
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you."
She had thought that seeing Brad would be better than this. She’d thought the normalcy of something familiar would make her feel right again. But the stress of the last few days had taken a toll. Grace hadn't slept well the night before, with the nightmare and Rafe. She hadn't been eating right, and had worked herself to bone-tired every night. And now Brad, who was supposed to be the epitome of normalcy, was making her feel uncomfortable and cranky.
"Grace…" Brad's tone was conciliatory, and he took her in her arms again. "I'm sorry. I know you've had a rough couple of days. I've got to go into headquarters, but I'll call you tonight. Is that okay?"
She was still angry; too angry to speak. She knew that none of these feelings were Brad’s fault, aside from him pushing her again, into a relationship she didn’t want.
"I missed you so much, baby." He kissed her mouth, a lingering kiss that made her think of Rafe, before turning to walk down the Sea Wall. She had no idea what had just happened. She'd broken up with him, right?
That afternoon, Grace was raking up debris into a pile, when the sound of a man crying made her look around. Sitting on a bench behind her was Damien, the guy from the dance club.
“Hey, are you okay?” She walked over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, she was taken aback by the familiar grief in his eyes. She wondered what all he had lost.
He looked embarrassed and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. Just…seeing all the destruction around makes me sad…”
“I know. Me too.” She rubbed his shoulder, trying to ignore the thick muscles there. “Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps.”
He shrugged. “It just makes me realize what a hypocrite my Father is, and how he abandoned me.” Damien looked at his feet. “You don’t want to hear about it. Never mind.”
“My dad abandoned me too. When I was a baby.” It was an all too familiar story, how men could leave behind a piece of themselves and never look back.
“At least you never knew yours.” Bitterness laced Damien’s words. “Mine left me when I was grown, just said, “No more. I’m done with you.” You never knew your dad’s love. I knew mine, and it was taken away. That’s worse.”
“That’s awful,” Grace said, not sure what else to say. It wasn’t clear how the hurricane reminded him of his father, but everybody dealt with grief in different ways.
Seeing he was about to cry again, she pulled the man to her in a hug. She’d been doling out hugs almost as much as water these last few days. But none of the other hugs had the underlying flickers of desire that this one had. She wrapped her arms around Damien’s waist, and his strong arms clutched her back in an embrace full of need, of want. His torso expanded under her hands, as he inhaled a shuddering breath. Even as his body trembled under her hands, Grace felt the inappropriateness of her feelings with Damien. She was lusting after him, and he was so plainly grieving. But a part of him was lusting too. She could feel it on her thigh.
He buried his face in her shoulder, and she could feel the wetness of his tears, surprisingly cool, as he continued to cry. After a few minutes the sobs subsided, and he breathed deeply into the place where her shoulder joined her neck. She suppressed a tremor, not wanting him to see how his touch was affecting her. Then his tongue snaked out and licked her.
She pulled
away, realizing that he was having the same thoughts she was. “Damien, this isn’t a good idea. I’m sorry.” She looked around pointedly, as much to remind herself of where she was as anything else. All around, volunteers were raking debris into manageable piles, setting up information tables to help the displaced, and handing out rubber gloves and water. She had no business thinking about how hot Damien was amid so much misery.
He was watching her, tears gone, an intense look on his face. “Do you have a place to stay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, my insurance company is putting me up in a hotel for a month.”
“If you need to, you could come stay with me at my beach house. It was unscathed. It’s a miracle.” He said the last word bitterly, and she realized he was still angry about something.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”
“Thank you for talking to me today. I feel much better.” His hand clasped hers intimately, and his cool grip sent a tremor through her body. There was something about him that she didn’t quite trust though, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. “Can I take you to dinner?”
It was tempting, but something still felt wrong, and she didn’t want to have a good time with this guy while so many people on the island were wondering if they were going to get to eat dinner or not.
She shook her head no, “Now isn’t a really good time. Maybe we could swap numbers and get together another time?”
He agreed eagerly and they traded phones to input each other’s numbers. “Thanks again for listening. You’re such a sweetheart.” His fingers grazed her cheek softly before he turned to leave.
Grace watched him with mixed feelings as he wove his way around the garbage and people in the street, and disappeared from view.
