With the Father

by Jenni Moen

“And?”

  “It was nice,” I vaguely conceded.

  With a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, she said, “Don’t be like that Grace. I want to hear about it. I’m excited for you. Did you kiss him again?”

  “Yeah, a few times.” I was being cryptic, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t really believe that my sister would do anything to hurt me, but her feelings for Paul were still too fresh in mind. There were too many live wires laying between us. If I said too much, one of us was going to trip over one and get burned. “Speaking of kissing,” I said, changing the subject away from either of us. “Who is Dad kissing these days?”

  “Frankie Gatz.”

  “Nooooo,” I said on a groan. “No, no, no.”

  A playful smirk tugged at the corner of Kate’s mouth. “See. He was right not to tell you about it.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just … well …Frank and Frankie … It’s too awful for words.” Once again, laughter filled the room.

  “So you don’t hate her, and you don’t hate love. You just hate their names together.”

  “You have to admit that it’s pretty terrible.”

  Shaking her head but with a huge grin on her face, Kate turned back to her closet. “It really is.”

  _________________________

  “Dad?” I stepped off of the back porch with Aurora on my heels.

  She was always on my heels. If I was home, she was right there alongside me. It was as if she mistakenly thought that I’d saved her life after her episode last week on our walk. She had no idea that she would never have come that close to dying if I hadn’t dragged her all over town when it was almost a hundred degrees outside.

  My dad set his glass of water down on the iron patio table. “Hey, Graceful. Have a seat.” He leaned down and coaxed Aurora over with the wave of his hand. She momentarily abandoned me to sit at his feet, putting one paw up on his leg to beg for attention.

  We sat in silence for several minutes with Aurora belly-side up, my dad happy to appease her, and me content to gaze at the still surface of the pool. A perfectly pink sun lowered on the horizon, casting a hypnotizing glow upon the water.

  “Why do you call me that?” I finally asked, though it wasn’t one of the questions currently weighing on me.

  “Graceful?” he asked, looking up from the belly-scratching he was giving.

  “Yeah. Did I fall down a lot as a kid?”

  “You did. Remember when your mom put you in dance? You were a terrible ballerina.” His smile caused his eyes to twinkle and the corners to crease. My dad was showing his age.

  “Dad! I wasn’t that bad.”

  “You really were. But your mom … she loved to watch you up there on that stage. Such a tiny little disaster in your leotard and tutu.” He shook his head. “She couldn’t have been more proud. What a woman she was.” The dreamy smile on his face made me happy.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I said, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. I rubbed my hands together before weaving my fingers together. The act reminded me of Paul and the way he’d had refused to let go of my hand last night. “How did you know it was okay to move on?”

  He leaned back in his chair, abandoning Aurora, and gave me a knowing smile. “You’ve been talking to Kate.”

  “Well, yeah. But it’s pretty obvious that something’s up with you. I may not be very graceful but you’re not very sneaky.”

  “Do you need me to be around more?” Concern was etched across his face. As if he could ever be anything less than what I needed.

  “No, Dad. I’m fine.” He sighed in relief and reached for his glass again. He drummed his fingers on his glass to an imaginary beat that I wished I could hear. “I’m actually worried that I’m too fine.”

  “Not possible.”

  “I’m serious. Can I be frank?”

  “No, that’s me,” he said grinning.

  “Seriously, Dad.”

  “Sorry. Yes, let’s be serious.”

  “Okay,” I paused to get my bearings and to find my courage. “I know it’s really soon, but I’m sort of interested in somebody.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t say anything.

  “Let’s put aside the fact that it’s completely inappropriate for me to be interested in anyone right now, because it’s who it is that is the biggest shocker.”

  “First, who’s to say it’s inappropriate?”

  “Come on, Dad. Jonathan’s only been gone five months.”

  “Grace.” His chin lowered, and he looked at me over the top of his glasses.

  “What?” I said, waving the dog over to my side. I needed something to do with my nervous energy. I scratched her head while I waited for him to answer.

  “There’s no prescription for grief. Just like no one can tell you that you’ve grieved too long, no one can tell you that you haven’t grieved long enough. You have to go at your own speed and to hell with everyone else. You’ll know when you’re ready to move on.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Well, men are different. After being married and knowing what it’s like to have a woman take care of us, we’re terrible at being alone. So just when I thought I couldn’t take the quiet any more, Frankie approached me at church. She asked me if I could help her with her gutters.”

  “Ms. Frankie and those gutters,” I said in disbelief.

  “I think it’s her standard pick-up line now.”

  Ms. Frankie had become a widow more than ten years prior when her very prominent, older husband had collapsed during a game of racquetball. She’d still been young at the time. Though no one knew her true age, rumor put her around forty when he’d died at the age of seventy-six. It wasn’t their age difference or the fact that she’d inherited Main Street bank that had made her a legend.

  She was most famous for calling 911 several years after his death to put in a request for gutter cleaning service from the Merriville fire department. When the dispatcher had refused to forward her call, she had hung up and called the fire chief directly. Because it had been a slow week, he responded by sending half the crew to work at her house. A few weeks later, her gutters were clean, there was a fresh coat of paint on her garage, and her flowerbeds had never looked better. When word got out that Frankie Gatz had the fire department working at her house for free, there’d been an uproar in town. The woman could have bought the fire department if she’d wanted to, but she refused to hire a maintenance man.

  “You fell for the gutter rouse?”

  “Nah, I knew she was just trying to sink her teeth into me. I’m getting older, after all. But I didn’t really have anything else to do so I went over to check them out for her. Turns out, it wasn’t me that was doing the checking out though.” He winked at me, and laughter erupted from his chest.

  “Ewwww, Dad.” I shuddered. “This conversation is not going the way I expected.”

  “Exactly my point, Grace. Things rarely go the way we expect. But that’s what makes life interesting. I loved your mother. I’ll never love anyone the way I loved her, but Frankie doesn’t expect me to. Neither one of us are looking to replace your mother. But I can’t just sit around this house and wait to die either. Living is a gift, and I owe it to Karen to live for the both of us. Besides, she wouldn’t want me sitting around here, pining for her.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, okay, she might want me to pine a little, but I promise that I’m thinking about her more than I’m not.” He was quiet for a few long seconds before asking the question I was dreading most, “So who’s the lucky guy?”

  “I’m not sure he’s all that lucky. I’m mean, I’m sort of a mess, and he definitely should not be getting involved with me.”

  “I’ve seen a change in you the past few weeks, Grace. I chalked it up to all the garbage that Jonathan left behind for you to dig through, but maybe the change isn’t because of Jonathan. Maybe it’s because of this new person in your life. I don’t k
now who he is, but I’d say he’s pretty damn lucky to have you.”

  I steeled my spine and braced myself for the pending fallout. “It’s Paul.”

  “Who?” my dad asked, scratching the white scruff on his chin in obvious confusion.

  “Paul.”

  “The guy at the bank? He doesn’t really seem like your type.” Paul at the bank had a collection of Star Wars bobbleheads on his desk and still wore Birkenstocks.

  “No. Paul Sullivan.” I winced as I said it and reached down to scratch Aurora again, hoping to keep her exactly where she was – a buffer between my dad and me.

  “As in, Father Sullivan?”

  “The one and only.”

  He chuckled quietly. Not the reaction I was expecting. “Well, he is a good looking fella. I don’t think you’re alone, Grace. I’ve never seen so many women at church as I have since Father Paul came to town. But do you think maybe you’re interested in him because he’s unattainable?”

  “What if he’s not?”

  “He likes you, too?”

  “I think so. We’ve been feeling things out a little bit, trying to figure out what’s going on without really trying to define it.”

  “If you had to define it, how would you?”

  “I’m not sure. I like him. A lot. He makes me smile. And laugh. And forget the weight on my chest.”

  “Well, I certainly like to hear that. And how would he define it?”

  “I don’t’ know, but Kate thinks he’s in love with me and has been since before … you know … the fire.” I wondered when I’d be able to talk about it without stumbling over the words. Surely, someone who couldn’t even talk about what had happened, wasn’t ready to move on from it.

  My dad was silent for a long time. He picked up his cocktail and resumed his observation of the pool. After a few long sips, he finally spoke. “You know, Kate is a really good judge of character. She’s always had a second sense about people. If she thinks he’s in love with you, he probably is. But Lord Almighty does that man have a rough road ahead of him.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You want my advice?” he asked.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Figure out as best you can how you’d define it, before you ask him to. I know it’s hard. You’ve been through so much, but you need to figure out how you feel before he does something he can’t take back.”

  I hung my head. Up to this point, my main concern had been with my own wounded heart and what everyone would think if they found out that it wasn’t as wounded as they thought it should be. However, Paul was the one risking everything.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, standing up. “Are you cleaning gutters this evening?”

  His deep baritone laugh traveled through the yard and startled Aurora who jumped to all fours faster than I thought possible. “Yep. Are you going out?”

  “Undetermined,” I said, heading up the porch steps.

  I was almost to the door when his voice caused me to turn back. He was staring at the water again and spoke as if he was in a daze. “Do you remember cleaning those filters as a kid? Every morning and evening you came out here to rescue whatever critter was trapped in them. Frogs. Turtles. Even one extremely lucky mouse that you managed to catch in time. We didn’t call you graceful because you lacked grace. We called you graceful because you were full of it. I certainly can’t fault Paul for seeing that too.”

  I watched my dad for a few seconds before opening the back door and practically skipping my way through the kitchen. I grabbed my phone from the counter and typed in a text to Paul, who asked earlier if I had plans. Movie night? Everyone’s going out.

  I tried to busy myself around the house while I waited for his response. I started a load of laundry and wiped down the kitchen counters. I opened the pantry to put away a box of crackers that had been left out and realized that we were living in complete disarray, and I hadn’t even noticed or cared. I shuffled the cans of vegetables around until they were in alphabetical order and then moved on to the dry goods.

  Grace was back.

  I felt the last little piece of my former self, or possibly a better version of it, fall into place as I moved the saltines to the right of a bag of rice. As I stepped back to survey my work, I realized that what was missing in my life was probably the same reason that Paul hadn’t responded to my text.

  I glanced at the wall clock as I grabbed my purse from the counter. I still had time.

  RETURN

  GRACE

  When I walked into the kitchen, three sets of wide eyes stared at me.

  “Hey, look who’s here!” Arden was working the dishwasher and waved a gloved hand at me. It was getting late now, and the crowd in the dining area had dwindled to just a few.

  “You are such a sight for sore eyes,” Theresa Lions said, dropping the towel she was using to dry pots and pans. Theresa had been my mom’s closest friend and had been volunteering in the kitchen for longer than I had. Why she wasn’t running the place was beyond me.

  She wrapped her familiar arms around me, and I hugged her back in full force. Stepping back, she looked me over. “You look good. We’ve missed you around here. Any chance you’re coming back?”

  I looked through the window over the food line at the families making their way to the door, and the familiarity of the entire scene comforted me. I’d missed this place more than I realized. “I think so.”

  “Good,” she said, pulling me in for another hug. Theresa was a hugger. “We need you. If it weren’t for Paul, the whole place probably would have come crashing down on our heads.”

  “Is he here?” I asked, looking around for him.

  “Has anyone seen Paul?” she asked the room.

  “I believe he’s walking Abby Thompson to her car,” Judith Cryer, another of our other usual volunteers, answered.

  Theresa leaned in and whispered, “Ever since your incident, he walks all of the ladies to their cars if they’re alone.”

  “Have we had more problems?” Paul hadn’t said anything to me but he really hadn’t talked about the kitchen much at all. I now felt horrible about that. I’d walked away from it all without a thought, leaving my friends to deal with everything without me. But the kitchen had been my mother’s baby. As soon as I’d walked inside the building, I’d known I was home. Now I couldn’t believe I’d stayed away for as long as I had.

  “No. It’s been quiet around here, but you know Paul. He’s not much of a risk taker.”

  If she only knew.

  “Grace,” the aforementioned risk taker said from the back door.

  I turned to face him. “Hi.”

  “Did you need me?” he asked.

  It was a loaded question. I’d come because I wanted to see how things were at the kitchen. However, staring into those gold-flecked emerald eyes, I knew that I also had come because I needed to see him. “I just came to say hi. To see if I could come back,” I said, telling a half-truth.

  “Of course, you can come back.” He spread his arms wide. “This place is yours.”

  “Well, I, for one, need to get going,” Arden interjected. “I need to be home before the kids go to bed.” Her words stung. I knew she hadn’t meant anything by it. That was her life, and this was mine. She hadn’t intended to point out that I no longer had anyone to tuck in at night. This was exactly the thing that I had to learn to get past. I couldn’t expect people to weigh every thing they said on a ‘how much will it upset Grace scale’ before speaking. Still, it hurt.

  “Shoo, you!” Theresa said slapping Arden on the arm. Her slap a little too hard to be considered playful. “Get on then.”

  Arden’s lips drew into a thin line. She pulled me in for a hug, but it had none of the warmth of Theresa’s. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.” She spoke in a hushed whisper next to my ear. She meant for only me to hear. “There are some nasty rumors going around that we should probably talk about.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully at me, but there was nothing playfu
l in the hard glint in her eyes.

  My stomach twisted into knots as I realized that she was talking about Paul. Parading around San Antonio as if we didn’t have a care in the world had been a mistake. It would only take one person from Merriville to start an avalanche of trouble for Paul. I would spend the next twenty-four hours worrying about it and trying to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

  She pulled away from me. “I’m so glad you’re back, Grace.” Her voice was sugary-sweet now. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Miguel’s, right?”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “We’re all so glad you’re back,” Theresa jumped in, energetically.

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t get here before you guys were done tonight. I was organizing my dad’s pantry and had something of an epiphany.”

  “Were you alphabetizing?” Arden asked snidely, moving toward the door even as she spoke. She’d never acted this catty to me before. However, she’d always had a bit of a crush on Paul. If she’d heard rumors about us, I could see her being jealous.

  “Yeah, I was,” I admitted. “I was moving cans of vegetables around when I realized that it was one of the most normal things I’d done in months. I decided then that I was ready to come back.”

  “Alphabetizing your pantry is not normal,” she said, snorting.

  I tore my eyes away from Arden, “For me, it is. My cans have been alphabetically challenged for the past five months, and I didn’t even notice it. Today, I noticed and decided it was time to put my cans in order.” And my life.

  “There’s nothing wrong with organization, love,” Theresa said, following Arden toward the door. Judith was right behind her. “We’ll see you next week then?”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  “I’m going to walk them out.” Paul said, raising his eyebrows in question. “And then we can lock up together.”

  Alone in the kitchen, I moved around the room. Everything was already in place. All of the pots and pans were clean and gleaming in the drying rack. The leftover food had either been stored or handed out to the families. I ran my hand across the stainless steel counter, thankful that my mom had left this for me. I could find peace here. I could make a difference here. There would still be times when I wouldn’t know what to do with my own life, but it was time that I get back to the business of helping others improve theirs.