by Ciana Stone
“Grace.”
She responded by turning to look at him. “I remember, Beau. All of it. I remember walking into Mrs. Brewer’s kindergarten class and seeing you standing there. I remember how you stood up for me the next year when that big girl in the second grade, Cherise Mapleton, decided she wanted to beat me up every day. I remember realizing I loved you in the third grade and I remember making up my mind in fifth grade that if I couldn’t be your girlfriend, I’d be your best friend.
“I didn’t forget any of it, but I also didn’t talk about it, and I tried very hard not to think about it because after all those years and all that love, you broke my heart into so many pieces that I didn’t remember how to love until Sherri was born.”
Beau was shocked by her words. He wanted to be angry, but the truth was, he knew it was more his fault than hers that they broke up. “I—Grace, I don’t even know how to start to apologize. I could tell you I was young and stupid and that’d be the truth.
“I could tell you it was curiosity as much as attraction because until then I’d never been with any girl but you and again, that would be true.
“And I could tell you that it felt good to have someone as pretty and popular as Tamara want me. She stroked my ego so much I’m surprised there was room left for me in my dorm room. That’s also true.
“There are a lot of reasons it happened, and none of them make me look good. If I could go back and undo it, I would but I can’t. Just like you can’t go back and undo getting involved with Tad and marrying him so quickly. People make mistakes. I did, and I’m sorry because losing your love was the worst thing that will ever happen to me no matter how long I live.”
Grace had thought about a moment like this for fourteen years, tried to imagine it and what he would say. In none of her dreams did she imagine the honesty she heard in his voice or the pain she saw in his eyes.
All those years of blaming him for her unhappiness came crashing in on her. It was like a blind person suddenly being given sight. At that moment, she saw how unfair she’d been. She had chosen not to remember the way he had pleaded with her to forgive him and to take him back.
She’d chosen to disregard him showing up the night before she married Tad and begging her to run away with him. She’d deliberately shoved it from memory how they’d made love, and then she’d gotten up, ordered him out, and walked down the aisle to marry Tad. Grace had decided somewhere along the way to ignore her complicity in what happened and make him the villain of the play.
“I screwed up so bad. Beau, I screwed up everything.”
The embarrassment and regret welled up and spilled out in tears of shame. Grace put her hands over her face and ran from the back room. She bumped into the front counter and sank to the floor.
When she felt Beau beside her, and he pulled her into his arms, she sobbed. “I wish—“Shock had her sobs cutting off abruptly, and she pushed back enough to look at him. “I want to say I wish I could go back and do it differently, but I can’t. If I did, I wouldn’t have Sherri and Theo, and I can’t wish them away. They’re my babies. They taught me how to love again and how to do it right. I do wish I’d never hurt you and I hate that I spent all those years letting Tad make me miserable, but I’ll never regret having my children. I hope you can understand that.”
“I can and do. Like I said, people make mistakes, and we made our share, but look at us, Grace. Here we are. A little battle scarred and a little scared of giving our hearts again, but here we are, together. I think maybe life’s giving us another chance.”
“Do you really believe that? I mean, we can’t just pick back up like nothing’s happened. I must get a divorce, and I have kids who are going to be caught in the middle of that and who wouldn’t understand if suddenly there was someone in my life besides their father. It’s just not that easy.”
Beau smiled and cupped her face in his hands. “No one said it would be easy. The question is, would it be worth it?”
“You know it would to me. I’ve loved you my whole life. But my love just doesn’t seem to be enough, and I don’t say that to hurt you, just as a statement of fact. You cheated on me and I turned to Tad. Maybe I didn’t love him like I do—did you, but I cared for him and tried to be a good wife, and he cheated on me too. Maybe the best thing for me would be to just admit that happily-ever-after just isn’t in my cards.”
“Bullshit.”
She couldn’t believe he said that. “What?”
“You heard me. Bullshit. Yeah, I cheated, and he cheated, and life shit on you, but you can’t sit there and tell me that because you were hurt, you should just give up. That’s a load of crap, and you know it. Look, if you want me to hit the bricks just say so and I promise I won’t darken your doorstep again, but please do me the service of not trying to feed me a plate of shit stew.”
“I—“ She was left speechless, so she just sat there on the floor and stared at him. He stared right back, and she was suddenly transported back in time.
“Oh, my God, Mr. Bainbridge’s eighth grade biology. Do you remember—“
“The frog incident?”
“We had to be in detention for two weeks.”
“Because you threw the damn thing across the class and it landed smack on Maryann Talbert’s back, and she had on that sundress thing, and the frog slid inside her dress and got stuck.”
Grace couldn’t think about that event without laughing. “Oh, my God. We sat there in Principal Newman’s office just staring a hole through each other. I wanted to strangle you.”
“And I wanted to wring your neck. Hey, why did you throw that thing in the first place?”
“You don’t remember? I hate frogs. I was bent over getting my notebook, and when I straightened up, you shoved that thing right in my face.”
Beau started to laugh. “Oh damn, yes. You looked like you were going to shit your shorts and then your face got all red, and your eyes squinted, and you called me a rat bastard and snatched that frog out of my hand and slung it like a baseball.”
They both laughed at the memory and then quieted. “I do think it’s worth it.” Grace reached for his hand. “But I’m scared.”
“Of?”
“Of letting myself love you again and getting broken into a million pieces.”
“I won’t break you, Grace.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve spent the last fourteen years trying to figure out what I didn’t do that I should have to keep from losing you and because I made a promise a long time ago that if I ever got a second chance, I wouldn’t blow it.”
“Are you sure?” Grace got to her feet and as he stood, took a step back, needing some space between them. “I mean, I just got back. We’ve seen each other twice, and now we’re talking about trying to—to what? To build a future?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“I just don’t know how.”
“One day at a time.”
Grace wanted to grab the line he tossed so badly she could taste the need. “I want to. I do. But I—this is too fast, too fast.”
“Then we slow it down.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you. Oh!” She sensed rather than heard the distiller and ran into the back room.
“Looks like we’re getting some oil.”
Beau followed and looked over her shoulder. “What will you do with it?”
“I don’t know. Put it in a bottle and take it home. Maybe use it in a diffuser. Mama loves the smell of lavender.”
“I should go.”
Grace turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I—you know I have these feelings. I always have and always will, but I have to be sure.”
“I know Gracie. Don’t worry. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“Why, Beau? Why would you do that?”
“Because you always have been my one true love, Grace. Whether you choose to be with me or walk away, that won’t change. I’m just hoping I can prove that choosing me is the right thing to do.”
“You keep reminding yourself of that, honey.” He gave her a soft kiss and backed away. “I’ll be seeing you, Gracie Summerfield.”
“Be seeing you, Beauregard Lyon Legacy.”
He smiled, turned, and walked away. Grace watched him leave and stared long after he’d gone. Had life just handed her what she’d always wished for, or was it just setting her up for the biggest heartbreak of all?
Chapter Thirteen
It was one of those evenings. Just enough heat and humidity to herald the coming of summer; the occasional waft of air with a hint of cool that acted as a reminder that as the sun set, the temperature would fall.
The kids were indulging in what was one of her favorite Sunday evening past-times when she was a child: running through the yard sprinkler.
“Would you look at her, Mama?” Grace watched Sherri squeal and run back and forth, grinning like mad. “Two weeks ago she thought Legacy was the lamest town in America and now look.”
“Those kids haven’t ever experienced the simple life,” Ida commented.
Grace cut a look at her mother. “You’re right. The day we left, Sherri was ready to jump off the roof just thinking about having to swim in a lake.”
“That reminds me, I haven’t heard you mention Tad lately.”
“What’s there to say? He calls and talks to the kids on Sunday morning, makes them promises about summer and then turns his attention back to himself. Pretty much the same as when we were there except now he doesn’t have to put up with them during the week.”
“Gracie!”
“Well, it’s true. Funny how when you’re in the middle of it, you make up enough excuses that your lens fog over to keep you from seeing the truth.”
“But you see it now?”
Grace hated like heck to admit it. Her mother had begged her not to marry Tad, had begged her to leave Tad before she got pregnant, but Grace’s pride wouldn’t allow her.
She could look back and admit her dissatisfaction and unhappiness now, but then? Then she couldn’t because if she did, she’d have to admit that she’d screwed up. She gave up getting her degree and the man she loved because of her wounded pride.
Grace watched her children play, taking note of the rainbow the faded in and out of the fan of water. “I was wrong, Mama.”
“About what, honey?”
“Everything. I should have listened to you and Dad. To Beau. I should’ve forgiven him instead of taking up with Tad. I should’ve run off with Beau when he showed up and tried to talk me out of marrying Tad.” She looked at her mother. “I was wrong, but I can’t regret it.”
“No?”
“No.” Grace looked at her children. “Just look at them.”
Ida smiled. “They are the most precious children I’ve ever seen. Well, since you were little. And Gracie, you can’t live your life beating yourself up for the choices you made. God knows, I’ve made my share. Everyone has. But look at the good that came from the choice. Be grateful for the good parts and let go of the bad. Look forward, not backward. That’s what your daddy always said.”
Grace saw the tears glisten in her mother’s eyes, despite the smile on her face. She wondered what it must be like for her mother, to have loved someone for so long and now face the days without him.
“How do you do it, Mama? I know you miss Daddy something awful.”
“I do. With every beat of my heart. But oh, how lucky I was, Gracie. To have someone who loved me so much, someone I loved so much. I had the happily ever after. Well, maybe he was the one who had it. He left first, so he didn’t have to grieve, so maybe that makes him luckier, but we were both blessed.”
“I wish I could find that. What you and Daddy had.”
“I wish you could too. Which reminds me. Polly Sinclair said she and Myrtle Smith were having a late lunch in town last Sunday and Irene came in and said Beau was in the shop with you. According to them, he stayed a good while.”
“I guess some things never change, do they?”
Ida chuckled. “I guess not. Anything you want to talk about?”
Grace considered it for a moment. “Well, to start with, he just offered to help me take in some boxes. I wanted to play with the distiller and make that batch of lavender oil. Then he was asking me about some tincture Dad made for John Luke. In fact, that’s why John Luke came by earlier that day. I thought I told you about—“ Grace turned and saw the expression on her mother’s face, and it startled her.
“Mama? Are you okay? Do you feel bad?”
Ida shook her head and hurriedly got up and went inside. Grace started to follow but didn’t want to leave the children unattended, so she grabbed towels and called for them. “Come on, water bugs! Time to call it a day.”
She turned the water off to the sprinkler and then wrapped them both in towels. “Now, upstairs you go. Bath time.”
“But we just got wet,” Theo argued. “We clean.”
Because of her concern for her mother, Grace relented. “Okay, then into your jammies and you can go in my room and watch TV for a little while.”
“I get to pick!” Sherri yelled and headed for the door with Theo on her heels.
Grace hurried inside and found Ida standing at the kitchen sink, staring out of the window. “Mama?”
“I’m fine, Gracie.”
“Are you sure?”
Ida turned to look at Grace. “Honey, your daddy and I wrestled with this since the day you were born, and I wish he was here now because I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“Mama, you’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”
“About that tincture. The Legacy family. I—no. This can’t come from me. It’s not for me to say. That’s why we never brought it up, me and your daddy. You’re going to have to get the answers from Beau.”
“The answers to what?”
“To what that tincture was really for and why your daddy left me instructions to destroy the formula.”
“Did you? Destroy it?”
“I should have.”
“Mama, do you have it?”
Ida crossed the kitchen to the freestanding cupboard. She opened a drawer and scrambled around through what looked like junk. When she turned back to Grace, she had a Christmas card in her hand. “Here.”
Grace took the card from her, puzzled. “What?”
“Read it.”
Grace opened the card, expecting to see a printed message and perhaps a personal line or two. Instead, on the left side of the card was her dad’s small neat print. She scanned the recipe. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
“This is it? The tincture he made for Mrs. Legacy?”
“It is.”
“Well, there’s nothing spectacular about it.” She read it again and spotted something she’d missed the first time around. “Hold on. What’s this?” She stepped closer to Ida and pointed to a line of text.
“Dragon blood.”
It was followed by an instruction copper only.
“What the heck is this about?”
Ida reached into the drawer again and pulled out a disposable lighter. She took the card from Grace’s hand and carried it to the sink where she lit it on fire.
“Why’re you doing that?” Grace tried to take the card from her, but Ida wouldn’t let her. “Beau and John Luke must need some more of that stuff or John Luke wouldn’t have asked.”
“Because your daddy told me to and I should have done it before.”
“So now I’m supposed to just tell Beau that you burned the recipe?”
“Or ask him why he really needs it.”
“For allergies.”
“Are you so sure?” Ida stuck the remains of the card under the faucet and ran water over it, sending smoke pluming. Then she dumped the wet mess into the trash and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”
“Mama, wait.�
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“In the morning, Gracie.”
Grace watched her go and looked around the kitchen. When she saw her phone on the counter, she started for it, intent on calling Beau and asking about her mother’s strange behavior.
But fate had other plans. Theo came tearing into the kitchen screaming at the top of his lungs about Paws being on the roof and Sherri climbing out of the window after him.
All thoughts of Beau and the mystery formula vanished as Grace raced up the stairs to solve the latest family crisis.
Chapter Fourteen
“There are times in life when you have to take the bull by the horns.” That was one of her dad’s sayings, and Grace had never found it more fitting than now.
She’d spent the last two weeks digging through her dad’s things and could not find anything that seemed connected to the Legacy Formula, as she’d labeled it. There was one plant she could not find any mention of at all. A Bog Lily. And Dragon’s Blood. Nothing in any of his notes referred to Dragon’s Blood.
Grace spent a good bit of time researching. According to what she found, there were several sources of so-called “dragon’s blood.”
Aside from some medieval texts, which claimed it was the literal blood of dragons, the resin of Dracaena species and the poisonous mineral cinnabar were also called Dragon’s Blood.
She did some online shopping and found that Dracaena and Daemonorops resins were marketed as dragon’s blood with little or no distinction made between the plant sources. But, the resin obtained from Daemonorops was the most commonly sold and often came in the form of large balls of resin.
Dracaena was a genus of some one hundred species of succulent shrubs and species of trees. Daemonorops was a genus of rattan palms found mostly in the tropics and subtropics of southeastern Asia.
Was either genus what her father referred to and if so, what species within the genus? Figuring that out would be virtually impossible.
Now, two weeks later, Grace was no closer than when she started. The mystery remained unsolved, and she was more than a little annoyed by her lack of success. Her mother was no help at all. She claimed she had never grown plants from either genus and could not remember ever purchasing anything called Dragon’s Blood.