by Addison Cole
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t call her tiny. I mean, she’s got a nice figure, but she’s not waiflike, and she’s still as loud as a megaphone. She’s been great, really on top of things.”
The sound of car doors caught their attention.
“Expecting company?” Grace asked as they pushed to their feet.
“No,” he said as they went inside and headed downstairs. He pulled open the front door as Nana, Hellie, Janie, and Janie’s guide dog stepped from the car. A second later, two younger girls climbed out of the backseat. Nana wore a pair of big, dark sunglasses. She squared her shoulders and looked at the others, as if she were the leader of the pack. Hellie smoothed her dark tunic over her hips. Her colorful skirt swept around her legs as she and Nana led the others determinedly toward the porch.
“What the heck are they doing here?” Grace descended the porch steps while simultaneously tying the hem of his jersey into a knot at her hip.
“There you are,” Nana said, and glanced at Hellie. “I told you they were busy making out.”
Reed chuckled.
“We were not making out,” Grace said sharply. “How did you even know where I was?”
She looked so cute in his jersey, he wanted to…Why not? He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of her.
“After movie night at the Majestic?” Nana waved her hand dismissively. “As if you’d be anywhere else?” She ducked into the car again.
One of the younger girls, a redhead, said, “Sorry to interrupt. We tried to call.”
“It’s okay,” Grace said. “Reed, this is Lauryn.”
The girl smiled sheepishly.
“And this is Phoenix.” Grace motioned to the other young girl, who waved.
“Nice to meet you both.”
“If Grace had answered her phone, we wouldn’t have had to interrupt your lovefest.” Nana handed Reed a bag. “We brought breakfast since everyone knows you don’t have a functioning kitchen.”
“How does everyone know that?”
“Never mind how,” Nana said with a sigh. “Just say thank you.”
“Thank you.” He peeked into the bag at the Tupperware containers. “Did you cook us breakfast?”
“We baked as we worked,” Lauryn said. “Nana and Hellie taught me and Phoenix how to make corn bread and cinnamon rolls.”
“Kids these days are so busy with phones and Facebook, they don’t learn the basic skills of life,” Hellie said.
“The reason we’re here is that we’re just so excited, we couldn’t wait to tell Grace our news,” Janie explained.
“News?” Grace turned to Reed and said, “Sorry.”
Amused by the whole scene, he said, “It’s all good. And now we have breakfast.”
“We finished our script!” Phoenix blurted out.
Hellie handed Grace a folder. “It turned out even better than we hoped.”
Grace opened the folder and scanned the contents. “You finished the entire script? You must have worked all day and through the night.”
“Yes, ma’am. We practically had ourselves a slumber party. Worked right up until midnight and started at the crack of dawn again this morning. Now we’re here, and we’re going to make our masterpiece into a play.” Nana lifted her chin and said, “And you’re going to produce it.”
Grace smiled, studying the script. Without taking her eyes from the papers, she said, “Uh-huh. Sure. This is really good, you guys.”
“I tried not to spice it up too much,” Janie said, “despite Nana’s prompting.”
Nana threw her hands up in the air. “What is it with you kids and your hang-ups about your bodies? Sex is as much a part of love as compromise and that squirrelly feeling in the pit of your stomach. It all goes hand in hand. And, Janie, I saw you and Boyd smooching at the ice cream shop the other night. You can’t tell me you don’t love to touch that man.”
Lauryn giggled.
“Yes, but I wouldn’t want to be up onstage doing it,” Janie said.
Nana mumbled something Reed couldn’t hear, and then she said, “Let’s get down to business. Grace, can you produce this for us?”
Grace’s brows knitted. “Well, I’m leaving in less than two weeks, but that gives us time to go through the script and tweak it. Maybe we can think about doing it as a community play when I come back over the holidays. Do you have friends in mind for the cast? And what about a venue? Do you want to do it in one of your backyards or something? We’ll need sets and props, and—”
“The holidays?” Nana shook her head. “Oh no, that will not do. We’re ready to do it now, and this is not a play for a yard.”
“This story is worthy of a bigger venue. A huge audience,” Hellie said. “And it’s not a winter play. It’s a summer story. It really must take place in the summer, regardless of where we do it.”
“What about next summer? Will the Majestic be done by then?” Grace asked Reed.
“It’s a huge project,” he said. “A year might be enough, but it’s hard to say until we’re inside.”
“But that’s such a long time. We don’t want to wait a year,” Phoenix said. “Can’t we do it before you leave, Grace?”
Grace’s expression softened, and she closed the folder. “I wish we could, but productions take time. Even elementary schoolers have several weeks to prepare. The cast has to be chosen, and they have to memorize their lines. You know that can’t happen overnight. And if you want to try to hold it someplace…” Her eyes lit up. “Like the Jerichos’ barn?” Her voice escalated with excitement. “Or maybe the No Limitz community center? I could ask Haylie. They have a great auditorium. Or the high school auditorium? Brindle might be able to pull some strings.”
“The community center!” Lauryn clapped her hands. “That’s a great idea. They have lots of room.”
“I like the barn,” Janie said. “The story revolves around a small town. What’s more small town than a barn?”
“I like the barn, too. But, Lauryn, if you’re set on the community center, we can consider that,” Hellie said.
“No. I think Janie’s right. The barn is even better,” Lauryn said.
“That’s set, then,” Nana said. “I’ll talk to Nancy Jericho, and my granddaughter Lindsay can throw together a party in a heartbeat!”
“A party? You’re getting way ahead of yourselves,” Grace said. “There’s costumes, seating…” Her brows knitted again. “Morgyn might be able to help with costumes.”
“And my knitting club gals can pitch in.” Hellie withdrew a phone from the pocket of her skirt and began typing a text.
“The high school drama club would probably help with sets.” Lauryn whipped out her phone and began texting, too.
Grace paced. “This is exciting on so many levels! You guys are from very different generations, and you were able to come together and create something wonderful. Or at least it seems like it will be wonderful. I haven’t had time to read all of it, obviously. I think the community would be excited to see this play, but we still can’t pull it together that quickly. There are things we can do to get started. We can come up with a list of what we need to accomplish, and when I come back in a few weeks, we’ll see where we are.”
“A few weeks?” Nana’s gaze moved between Grace and Reed. “Do not tell me that you’re going to go a few weeks before seeing Reed again. Oh no, missy. That won’t do any more than waiting a few weeks to do the play will.”
“I still need to read the script, Nana. I’m sure it’s good, and I want to give life to your play because you have all worked so hard on it, but some things can’t be rushed. Why don’t we have breakfast and work through a timeline?” Grace suggested. “Once we have a breakdown of who’s doing what for the prep, we’ll have a better idea of how long it will take to reach out to the right people. Productions cost money, so we might need to reach out to local businesses about sponsoring the event, or putting ads in the program, like they do in the schools for fundraising. I think Bri
ndle would be willing to help with that, too. And my mom spent years on the PTA. I bet she’d love to pitch in.”
Reed could practically see the gears turning in Grace’s mind as she mentally ticked off ideas. He loved seeing her so enthusiastic.
“We need music,” Phoenix said. “Do you think there’s any chance Sable would be willing to help out?”
“I’ll call her.” Grace pulled her phone from her pocket, and then, as if a breeze had swept the wind from her sails, she lowered her phone and turned her back toward the others, speaking quietly to Reed. “I just realized we agreed not to work on Sundays, and here I am…working. Sable’s right,” she said just above a whisper. “I don’t know how to draw a line between relaxing and working. I’ll tell them we’ll do it tomorrow.”
He took her face between his hands and said, “Baby, are you having fun thinking about this project? Because you sure seem excited.”
“Well, yes, but we just said we’d take Sundays off, and I’m leaving in two weeks.”
Reed was aware of the others listening to their every word despite Grace’s hushed tone. But it wasn’t just the girls waiting with bated breath. His girl was waiting, too, looking at him like she was ready to walk away from the dance she’d waited a lifetime to attend.
“I don’t want you to think I’m a workaholic.” Her brows wrinkled, and then she added, “But I’m pretty sure Sable’s right. I have some of those traits.”
“Some?” Nana said. “Your mama says you work twenty-four-seven.”
There was a collective, “Shh,” from the others, and Grace’s expression became even more strained.
Reed wanted to kiss that worry away, but since that wasn’t an option at the moment, he said, “When you fall for a passionate woman, you have to know her passion touches all aspects of her life.” He felt the tension around her begin to dissipate. “It’s not work if we’re doing it together, and I’m sure you’ll need someone to help pull together sets.” He felt himself grinning. “I have tools, and some people think I’m pretty talented with my hands.”
“Really? You won’t mind?”
“Absolutely. Let’s do this, Gracie. It’ll be fun to see you in action.”
Cheers rang out, and in the next second, the ladies were hugging one another—and Reed—and making plans as they headed inside the house.
As he led Janie and her pup into the dining room, she said, “Thank you for sharing Grace with us today. I promise we won’t always barge in like this.”
He took in Grace’s smile as she opened her laptop, chatting excitedly about casting and production calendars. This was something else his house—their house—had been missing from the day he’d bought it. He could create beauty, but insurmountable love and friendships could only come from the heart.
Their house was becoming a home.
“You’re welcome anytime, Janie. It’s not barging in when our door is always open.”
Chapter Eighteen
AFTER ONLY A few days of staying with Reed, Grace felt like she had never lived anywhere else. Monday morning they’d picked up the rest of her things from her parents’ house, including Greedy Boy. The giant bear now sat on a beautiful, tufted velvet antique chair that Reed claimed he’d brought home because they’d needed it, but Grace had a feeling he’d bought it for the bear. His ever-present nostalgia was just one more thing she loved about him. Nothing beat waking up in his arms and creating new memories and future dreams with the man who knew her best, except maybe finally being able to openly spend time with their families. They’d taken Roy and Ella to the Stardust Café for dinner last night. It was wonderful to see how protective Reed was of his aunt and uncle and how loving they were toward him. They’d extended that warmth to Grace as if she’d always been part of their family. This morning she and Reed had jogged into town as the sun rose over the mountains and talked about all the things Reed could do with the Majestic. They’d even arrived at her parents’ house early enough to have breakfast with them before Reed started painting the porch.
Now it was midafternoon, and Grace was in the gazebo working through emails about her next production, while also stealing glances at Reed painting the gingerbread around the porch. He was shirtless, his jeans riding low on his hips as he stood on the ladder, steadying himself with one hand on the edge of the roof as he painted. Reed had worked with her group Sunday morning straight through the afternoon. Grace had since had time to read the whole script, and while it needed a few adjustments, it was a beautiful mix of generations, with themes of old-fashioned family values and modern youth all wrapped up with more than a hint of rebellion and an overwhelming amount of humor. She and the girls continued meeting in Amber’s bookstore, as Grace had promised to teach the class in order to help her sister gain customers. That’s why they’d decided to make flyers asking for volunteers for the play, and distribute them at local shops and at the high school. Anyone who was interested could meet them at their class. Nana and the girls had taken charge of that endeavor yesterday, and Grace hoped they’d get at least a few willing participants. The girls were so excited, she didn’t want them to be let down.
Reed looked over, his cheeks lifting with that sexy, crooked smile that always sent shivers of awareness through her. She loved him so intensely. She hadn’t known what she was missing.
She blew him a kiss just as her phone rang, and her stomach sank when Satchel’s name appeared on the screen.
“Don’t kill the messenger,” Satchel said before she could say a word.
She sighed heavily. “What’s Keagen doing now?” She listened to a litany of complaints, from his bitching about the talent of the supporting actors to his unprofessional behavior onset. Another call beeped through, and she glanced at the screen. Amber. “Hold on, Satchel. I have another call.”
She switched over. “Hey, Amber.”
“Grace, you’ve got to get over here.”
“Why? We don’t have class today.”
“My phone has been ringing off the hook,” Amber said in a hushed and hurried tone. “You didn’t tell me you put flyers out. My store is packed.”
“I don’t think the girls put them out yet, but that’s good news. Do you need help with the register? I can be there in fifteen minutes.” The perfect excuse to end her call with Satchel.
“Just get here. I need more than register help.”
After ending the call, she told Satchel to deal with the issues and reminded him that she was supposed to be taking time off. Then she went and filled Reed in on where she was headed.
He wrapped his arms around her. His skin was warm from the sun, and when he touched his lips to hers, she wished she could stay right there in his embrace forever.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket, quickly scanning a text. “It’s Roy.”
“You can get back to him. I have to run to the bookstore.”
He tightened his grip as he slid his phone into his pocket. “I’ll call him later and kiss you now.”
Twenty-five minutes later, which was totally Reed’s fault for kissing her until she almost forgot Amber was expecting her, she walked into the bookstore. Or rather, she squeezed in. There was barely room to inch into the store, as people filled every aisle.
“Grace!” Amber waved from behind the counter, looking a bit frazzled.
“Grace?” someone called out from the back of the store. “I can help with makeup!”
Suddenly people began calling out to her as the crowd pushed forward like concertgoers trying to get backstage. Energy radiated through the shop, as real as the encroaching crowd. Grace mouthed, What’s going on? to Amber as she pushed through a gaggle of girls hanging around the checkout area.
Amber held up a flyer, and Grace quickly read it. WANT TO BE A STAR? COME TO THE STORY TIME BOOKSTORE! WE NEED ACTORS AND VOLUNTEERS FOR…It went on to describe the play and list all the areas in which they needed help. Grace was overwhelmed with the realization that all these people had come out to help.
She stepped behind the counter, and Amber said, “It’s been like this for more than an hour.”
“I’m so sorry. They must have forgotten to add the class times to the flyers.” Grace held her hands up and turned to the crowd in an effort to gain some semblance of control. “Hey, guys, can I have your attention, please?”
As the din of the crowd quieted, Grace took in a host of familiar faces—women and men she’d gone to school with, her friends’ parents, and a slew of teenagers. Among them, Nat stood quietly, a smile on her pretty face.
“Thank you all for coming out. First, I want to be sure you understand these are not paid positions, but voluntary.”
“Of course,” a woman said from somewhere off to the left.
Grace was shocked. She’d expected a number of people to leave when they heard that. “Okay. I never expected this many volunteers.”
“Why not?” a teenage boy asked from the back of the crowd.
She glanced at Amber, whose eyes held the same silent question, and when she answered, the truth came easily. “Because I’ve been entrenched in a cutthroat world for too long.” And I’ve forgotten how amazing and supportive this community is.
Unexpected emotions bubbled up inside her.
Amber must have seen something in her expression, because she took Grace’s hand and said quietly, “We’ve got this.”
Grace cleared her throat, struggling to push past her racing heart and find her voice. “We’ll find places for everyone who’s interested,” she said loudly. “It’s going to take me a few minutes to get things organized. While I’m getting ready, why don’t you show Amber some love and see if you can find a book to buy for yourself, or as a gift for someone else.”
“Good idea!” someone said loudly.
The crowd shifted, moving toward the shelves and talking among themselves as Grace dug in her messenger bag for the outline of the play.