Amazed by her Grace, Book II

by Janet Walker

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  SKELETONS OUT OF THE CLOSET

  Charmaine Miller was charming and funny and outgoing and gracious, her red radiance a powerful presence that filled the Gracewood foyer. So when Grace came downstairs after the minister had been in the house for several minutes, she found the dazzling woman in the midst of Gracewood’s guests, all of them standing back in admiration, with Mrs. Gentry, the caterers and servers, the dee-jay and the bartender lingering near the kitchen.

  Since her arrival, Charmaine had laughed with equal heartiness at the frank utterances of Johnnie Mae, the inebriated ravings of David, and the chuckled comments of Elizabeth Nelson. She marveled upon seeing Dr. Curtis again, after so many years, and the two tenderly embraced. And when Johnnie Mae’s three-year-old son grabbed Charmaine by the hand, the evangelist bent low and spoke sweetly to the child, refusing to let Johnnie Mae pull him away. The boy was awed by the red of Charmaine’s outfit and wanted to touch it. She let him stroke the bright red wool and then, amused, reached down and picked him up. At that point, with the boy in her arms, Charmaine looked up at the stairwell and saw Grace slowly descending.

  For a moment they saw only each other.

  The hearty confidence and cheerfulness Charmaine had exhibited with her admirers instantly softened into a quieter emotion, a mix of tenderness and hope and uncertainty. It contrasted with the stony expression of the woman coming down the stairs.

  Absently, Charmaine handed Johnnie Mae’s boy to his mother and then stood—straighter than before, as if about to face an adversary. When Grace reached the foyer floor, Charmaine gazed at the other woman as if in disbelief and uttered, “Grace Gresham. Praise God.”

  The guests laughed softly.

  Grace stepped hesitantly toward the woman in red and, because she knew those watching expected it, held out her arms for an embrace. “Charmaine,” she greeted.

  Their embrace was light, awkward, brief.

  A smile fluttered across Grace’s face and a tint of blushing embarrassment colored her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  The onlookers laughed at Grace’s question because they didn’t realize it was a scolding.

  Charmaine re-assumed the cheerfulness she had borne moments before. “I came to see you!” she declared. “And my my, look at you,” she marveled. “Just beautiful! To God be the glory!”

  The onlookers laughed with appreciation. Grace’s blush deepened.

  “Juneboy, why you ain’t tell us your wife knew Charmaine Miller?” demanded Johnnie Mae, which again sent laughter all around.

  “I didn’t know!” Darrel answered defensively, which caused more laughs.

  Charmaine regarded Grace fondly. “Yes, Grace and I have known each other a long time,” she confirmed, looking down at the former Olympian, who was several inches shorter. “We were best friends in high school and roommates in college, weren’t we, Grace?”

  “Yes,” said Grace, nodding. Her skin glistened with bashfulness.

  Darrel’s surprise was genuine. He looked at Grace for an explanation. “You never told me that!”

  Grace lifted her hands in a gesture that admitted guilt. “You never asked,” she replied pleasantly.

  More laughter filled the foyer, and Darrel, for the sake of the impromptu audience, shook his head with mock resignation. “See how women do you?” he asked the others, who laughed again. To Charmaine, he added, jabbing a thumb toward Grace, “Too bad you couldn’t convert this one!”

  Laughter from the group, and a soft smile from Grace.

  “Oh, no,” disagreed Charmaine heartily. “Grace was always the good one. I was the one carving out a path to hell!”

  In the midst of the laughter, Grace met eyes meaningfully with her husband, her expression containing a codified plea for rescue. Darrel correctly read the expression and announced, “All right, I know the minister’s here but this ain’t church, so let’s break it up! She didn’t come to see y’all, she came to see Grace. Y’all go back to eating up all my food!” he ordered playfully.

  The foyer hummed with a fresh outburst of talk and laughter as the guests began to disperse. “Don’t be runnin’ us out here, Juneboy, some of y’all need church!” Johnnie Mae remarked, which triggered more amusement in the guests.

  Darrel gave Charmaine a warm and diplomatic smile, and extended his arm for a handshake. When Charmaine slid a lovely hand onto his giant palm, he tenderly sandwiched it.

  “It’s an honor to have you in my home, Pastor. I hope you’re staying. We’ve got plenty to eat and plenty of room.”

  “Thank you, Darrel. Unfortunately, however, I’m already obligated to another host. Although staying here is definitely preferential,” she added warmly.

  Darrel graciously wagged his head in acceptance, then raised the pretty hand to his mouth for a kiss. Grace watched her husband closely, saw the light in his eyes and the delicate smile that was, for him, a blush—and now, the kissing of the hand—and realized he was as enthralled by Charmaine’s aura and beauty as people had always been upon meeting her.

  Darrel released Charmaine’s hand. “I’ll leave you ladies.” He walked away, entering the music parlor to return to the family room.

  Charmaine and Grace watched until he was gone. The rest of the guests, the Alabamans and Atlantans, had already returned to their socializing places. When they were alone, the two former friends looked at each other. Charmaine’s face took on the gentle hopeful expression it had borne earlier, when she first saw Grace on the staircase. Grace looked up at the taller woman with a stare that demanded an explanation.

  “I apologize for coming by without warning,” said Charmaine. “I didn’t think you’d answer the gate…if you expected me.”

  “What do you want?” Grace demanded.

  Charmaine hesitated. Smiled lightly to mask the hurt Grace’s question had caused. “That the best you can do?” she asked gently. “After twelve years?”

  Grace’s stare was unyielding.

  Charmaine waited, then sighed. “We need to talk,” she explained. “Privately,” she added.

  Grace looked at the evangelist, studying her, and then extended an arm toward the room to the right, the living room, with its white carpet and upholstery, and gold-and-glass finishes. The room she rarely entered, except to pay respects to Tip and Sid. The room she had told herself she would never use for entertaining. “In there,” she said to Charmaine.