State of Grace

by Foster, Delia

  She swiped angrily at a lone tear that managed to escape and forced herself to finish preparing their coffee while her brain battled her heart. Methodically, she dumped two packets of sugar substitute in her cup and stirred a teaspoon of sugar in his. She liberally poured fat free half and half into hers and kept his black, just how he liked it.

  He found her in the kitchen, still stirring her coffee and staring off into space.

  “Babe?”

  Guiltily, she jerked her gaze towards him. “Yes, honey?”

  “Everything okay?”

  She pasted what she hoped was a bright smile on her face. “Of course. Just got lost for a moment.”

  “You sure?” His tone was gruff, but the expression on his face was concerned.

  She smiled weakly. “Yes.” She shoved his mug towards him. “Here’s your coffee. Just the way you like it.”

  He grabbed the handle and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You’re so good to me.”

  It took every ounce of strength she had to keep her smile steady and in place. To busy herself, she pulled out bran cereal from the cupboard and skim milk from the fridge.

  “Want breakfast?” she offered.

  “Nah, babe. I don’t even think I have time to finish coffee,” he said regretfully, glancing at his watch. “Walk with me downstairs?”

  “Of course.”

  They walked out of her apartment in companionable silence, his arm casually slung across her shoulder. They’d just reached the lobby when he muttered, “Oh shit.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Guess I just need a reason to get back to you. Forgot the movie in your DVD player. Need to go grab it before I head off.”

  She purposefully ignored his first sentence, not ready to deal with her or his emotions just yet, and focused on the task at hand.

  “Jack, it’s okay. I know you need to get a move on, I can drop off the movie.”

  She yelped as he caught her off-guard, hauling her into a tight embrace, pressing his body tight against hers. He descended in a rush, but gentled once his mouth reached hers and he kissed her sweetly. “You’re such a good girl, Grace.”

  In that instant, she decided to shove away any unpleasant thoughts. She looped her arms around his neck, leaned up against his frame on her tip-toes, and returned his kiss.

  She was so focused on trying to focus on Jack, neither of them noticed the man who’d walked through the revolving doors and stopped still. He swallowed before moving through the doors again, this time, moving outside. He looked through the glass pane that separated him from the seemingly happy couple, and his hands clenched and unclenched several times. When the woman inside reached up to brush her hand against the man’s face, he felt a sharp, piercing feeling invade his gut.

  He’d lost her.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  A month later

  The shrill wail of an angry child pierced the air, and Grace closed her eyes, praying for patience.

  “Kenny, no cookies now. When you get home, and only if you’re a good boy!” a mother reprimanded.

  “I …”

  Hiccup

  “Want cookies!

  Wail.

  Grace tried to squeeze past the obviously frazzled young mom and toddler wailing in the shopping cart. She pasted a tight smile on her face as she gingerly pushed the cart down the aisle.

  The young, pretty woman looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she responded brightly, inwardly thinking this entire scene was industrial strength birth control.

  Speaking of birth control, she’d officially been on the pill for a little over a month. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she pushed the cart, pausing every now and then to select ingredients. She carefully perused the labels of the items she selected.

  Jack was a health nut and fitness enthusiast.

  Even though she was cooking a celebratory dinner to congratulate him on the opening of his gym, she knew she couldn’t get too out of control with making rich dishes. They’d have a nice dinner, some wine by candlelight, and afterward …

  Well, afterward, they would bring their relationship to the next step.

  Neither one of them had explicitly mentioned it, but there was a silent understanding between them that it seemed to be the right time. Right before she went on the pill, they’d had a slightly stilted conversation about clean bills of health and protection.

  She was getting more and more seriously involved with Jack.

  Jack was stable.

  Jack was good.

  Jack was kind.

  She’d rationalized it all in her mind, of course. Sean had walked away, first. She didn’t owe him anything, and she certainly wasn’t going to chase after him and make a fool of herself.

  A girlfriend from college once told her to “Marry someone who loves you more than you loves them.” Grace still took those words to heart.

  Her mother had loved her father past the point of reason. She’d been smart, courageous, kind, and beautiful …

  But blind.

  Once she’d grown up a bit and the reality of what she’d witnessed as a child sunk in, she swore she would never lose sight of herself.

  Even though she warred with herself, even though she compared the way Jack’s kisses tasted to Sean’s … even though she saw Sean’s blue eyes every time she closed hers …

  Jack didn’t make her lose reason.

  She paused for a moment, surveying the contents of her shopping cart against the handwritten list she’d propped in the upper compartment of the cart. Satisfied, she made her way to the registers, but stifled a groan of annoyance when she saw every open register had a line of at least five deep. She sighed heavily and parked her cart in one of the lines, absently picking up a celebrity gossip rag that had been carelessly tossed on a small round table packed with containers of day old pastries.

  She turned back for a moment, considering the pastries, then squinted at her denim-covered thighs and thought the better of it. One guilty pleasure would have to suffice.

  Waiting for the line to move, she absently thumbed through the pages. She rolled her eyes at the article that featured the “Best and Worst Beach Bodies of the Summer,” and flicked to a section full of pictures from a recent movie awards ceremony.

  As the line slowly moved, she inched her cart further, half-heartedly taking in photographs of celebrities in bright, colorful formal wear until a flash of color in her peripheral vision caught her attention.

  The woman in the other aisle was tall, incredibly thin, a lightweight sundress hugging her frame. She was looking at the man next to her with a small, secret smile on her pink glossy lips. Grace felt her heart thunder and her breathing quicken as her eyes greedily drank in the sight of the woman’s companion.

  A worn, t-shirt hugged his tall, athletic frame like it had been made for him. Dark blue jeans hugged his lean hips, and a corner of his beautiful mouth turned up for the woman who held his attention. She stared numbly for a few moments before getting ahold of herself and turning away.

  Tears blurred her vision as she stared hard at the variety of gum lining the impulse section next to the cash register.

  “Excuse me, miss? Keep the line moving!” A woman barked from behind her.

  “Excuse me?”

  The second plaintive command penetrated through the haze that fogged her mind, and she mumbled an apology, moving her cart closer towards the register.

  Sean hadn’t apparently wasted any time. His beautiful face looked completely at ease with his new woman. Why was she still even thinking about him? He’d made it clear that their fling was just that – a fling. He’d made it so crystal clear; he didn’t even need to speak the words.

  She was just a conquest.

  One notch on a bedpost littered with waitresses, models, and God only knows who else.

  “Ma’am? Need help loading your groceries?” the cashier asked.<
br />
  She raised her eyes to the girl behind the counter and shook her head mutely as she realized it was her turn. A wave of nausea gripped her stomach, and she fought it as she swiftly loaded her groceries—groceries to make a dinner for her and Jack—on the conveyer belt.

  As she loaded the grocery bags into her trunk, a crazy urge to laugh overcame her, but she knew there was no mirth behind it. As she got in the car and started the ignition, she felt something wet splash against the skin of her thigh that wasn’t covered by her denim shorts.

  She swiped at the trail left on her face by the lone tear and steeled herself.

  He’d touched her, he’d brought her to heights of insane pleasure with his body, he’d made her laugh, he’d made her skin tingle. But he wouldn’t make her cry.

  Not anymore.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Dinner was a resounding success, although it was no thanks to her.

  After thoroughly wasting ingredients in a ruined dish, she’d called Molly, her neighborhood friendly caterer. She shoved away memories of Sean, teasing her for her cooking abilities, as he leaned against her kitchen counter.

  Focus on Jack, she instructed herself.

  She served salmon baked on cedar planks, asparagus, and faux mashed potatoes – a recipe of mashed cauliflower masquerading as mashed potatoes that she’d found online. There were two indulgences – the wine and a blackberry trifle she served for dessert.

  They’d just finished the trifle, and she was now curled up into Jack’s side, watching the evening news and sipping wine. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and he leaned in to nuzzle against her neck.

  “Baby, dinner was awesome. Not only is my girl gorgeous, smart, and funny, she can cook, too,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck.

  She let out a small laugh. It was a breathy sound, but not for the reason he likely thought. The image of Sean, handsome, sexy and belonging to another woman had been burned into her mind.

  Jack’s lips peppered light kisses against the sensitive skin of her collarbone, and she arched into his embrace, trailing a hand absently up and down his arm.

  Strong, kind, and handsome, she reminded herself, closing her eyes.

  He moved his kisses to her mouth, cupping the back of her neck so her mouth fit just right against his. She shifted her body more deeply into the couch, and he followed, blanketing her frame with his own.

  She’d worn a pretty, strappy sundress for the occasion, thinking earlier that the deep pink hue contrasted perfectly with her golden tan and dark red hair.

  Now, Jack slowly inched one of the deep pink straps of the dress down over her shoulder. His mouth lightly caressed hers as his large, work-roughened hand swept over the bare skin above the neckline of her dress, dipping underneath the bodice, underneath the bra.

  Her breath quickened, and she fought panic. She fought the urge to cry out that this was wrong, that she wasn’t ready, and instead arched her body upwards towards his, forcing her body to disconnect from her heart. Distantly, she heard soft whimpers escape her throat, and she hoped for one insane moment, that he would hear them as signs of pleasure.

  Jack’s hand cupped her breast, and his thumb swept over her nipple.

  Once more, she arched her back into his embrace, waiting for him to make his next move.

  “Grace, open your eyes.” The command was gruff, tight.

  Hesitantly, she lifted her eyelids open, and he sighed heavily, removing his hand from her breast and sitting up.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Jack, I thought we—well, I thought you knew what I was doing,” she muttered, looking down.

  She wasn’t surprised when she felt him slip a finger under her chin to raise her gaze to meet his, but she was surprised when she saw the look on his face.

  His expression was open, encouraging even. “You’re not ready for this, are you sweetheart?”

  “Why do you say that?” she whispered.

  “Honey, I can tell. Not to mention that my hands were all over your gorgeous boobs and your nipple didn’t even harden, not once,” he said bluntly.

  She felt shame stain her cheeks, and she inhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sweetheart, why are you apologizing?” he asked tenderly.

  A sheen of moisture gathered on her eyes. “Because you’re perfect. Because I’m holding us up.”

  He shook his head wryly. “Baby, I knew what I was getting myself into. This isn’t your fault,” he said gently.

  She felt the moisture pool on the rims of her lower lids and start to seep down her face in streaky trails. “I’m so sorry. In a perfect world, you would be it for me. I’m such a fool,” she said lowly, derisively. She wiped her eyes and raised her face to his. “I tried Jack. I really tried. You deserve better.”

  He closed his eyes and gathered her close. “I know you tried, baby. I tried, too. Seems whoever this guy is, he won’t go away, will he?”

  At this, she didn’t make a sound, but he felt her shudder in his embrace.

  “Who is he?” he asked softly. “Want me to beat him up?”

  She shuddered again, but this time, Jack knew there was a laugh somewhere in there.

  She shook her head against his chest. “Don’t think that’ll work.”

  “Baby, have you seen these muscles?” he asked.

  This time, he heard her laughter.

  She raised somber eyes to his. “Jack, I owe you an explanation.”

  “Baby, you don’t owe anyone a fuckin’ thing. We tried it, it didn’t work out, end of story.”

  “How’d you get to be so good?” she asked quietly, a small, regretful smile ghosting her lips.

  He shook his head. “Nothing to do with that, honey.”

  “Jack, you deserve someone good and kind. You need someone who’s going to love you—”

  He inhaled and rolled his eyes. “Oh Lord, here we go with the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ schpeel.”

  She shook her head urgently. “No, Jack, listen to me.”

  He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement, and she continued.

  “You are one of the most incredible men I have ever met in my life. You have to know, I haven’t met too many, even good men. Whoever she is will be damned lucky. I knew this, and I tried to be her, but I’m too damaged. I’m not good …”

  His grip around her tightened. “You fuckin’ stop right there,” he commanded quietly. “You’re not damaged, and God knows, you’re too good for me.”

  He felt her shake her head against his chest.

  “Grace,” he said gruffly.

  She raised her head to meet his eyes once again.

  His warm brown eyes beseechingly held hers, and she felt her heart clutch as he continued. “Grace, I don’t know, and I’m not gonna ask because if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. But whoever he was, whatever has happened—if it’s meant to be, then it will. I firmly believe that. If it’s not meant to be, then I won’t lie, it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot for a bit more, but it’ll get better one day. You’ll see.”

  At his last words, she broke down in the safe harbor of his brace, crying for what she’d had, what she’d lost, what she wouldn’t be able to give him, and what she wouldn’t have.

  Chapter Eleven

  Moving was hell. Definitely up there with divorce, taxes, death, and sexually transmitted infections.

  When he’d listed the apartment, he hadn’t expected to find a buyer—one willing to pay his asking price—for a few months at the very least. Months that he’d counted on to help him get his shit in order, but he wasn’t going to complain.

  He shook his head at himself. Of course he was going to complain. God only knew how long he’d have to keep his stuff in storage and where he’d be living in the interim.

  The movers were already carting boxes out. He had to turn over his keys to his realtor in a few hours, and there was nothing else left for him to do, but
instead of leaving he found himself wandering back upstairs into his bedroom. Staring at the bed where he’d taken Grace’s sweet body time after time. If he sniffed deeply enough, he swore he could still smell the scent of the lemon verbena soap she used.

  Pathetic bastard. Sniffing goddamn empty air. Why don’t you just put your balls in a silk purse now?

  Torn between laughing and groaning, he noticed a few boxes still stacked on one another in the walk-in closet. Grateful for a task, any task, he ambled over and hefted both out into the room. He was about to leave and remind the movers to make sure they checked all the rooms before they finished, but something nagged him to open the box on top. For some reason, the box looked older, used, and it wasn’t taped shut like the others, rather, the four flaps had been pressed into a neat, interlocking square. He pulled at them and examined the contents.

  Thick volumes of high school yearbooks.

  His letterman jacket.

  College acceptance letters.

  He shook his head. The box smelled like his mother’s handiwork. She couldn’t bear to throw anything away. Curious as to what else the box contained, he rifled through the contents. His hand landed on a few oddly textured items, and he felt around before pulling them out.

  He held one in each hand and stared dumbly from one to the other and back again.

  A sharp bark of laughter came from the doorway, and he turned.

  “I remember both of those things you’re holding in our hand with great clarity,” Lucas grinned.

  Even though Sean smiled back, there was still some hesitation. Even though his best friend wore an easygoing expression, God only knew if the bastard was trying to infiltrate his space just to coldcock him again. As Lucas moved into the room, he stepped back cautiously.

  His friend laughed again, before holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Relax. I just needed to beat the shit out of you only once. At least I think that should be enough.”

  He narrowed his eyes at him.

  “Look, man, I should have seen this coming a long time ago. Even way back when.” He motioned to the items Sean still held and shook his head.