Saving Grace

Home > Other > Saving Grace > Page 5
Saving Grace Page 5

by J. M. Hill


  “You’re great at it that’s for sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s too bad for you though,” he said with a grimace.

  “Why?” “Because Garrett is going to drive you both crazy.”

  “I like Garrett, he’s funny,” I told him. “I can’t imagine what it’s like living with him, I’ll bet you’re laughing all the time.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “My side hurts.”

  I laughed as I looked over at him, and he rolled his eyes.

  “So what do you and Kate usually do on Sundays?”

  “Sunday is football day.”

  “No laundry?”

  “Nope, finished it yesterday.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a relief. I was afraid we might need to do an intervention on you two.”

  “You have no idea how boring Kate and I actually are.”

  “I don’t think you’re boring at all.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t know us that well either. You could die of boredom if you spend too much time with us.”

  “I think I’m willing to risk it.” He smiled the crooked smile that was…well…

  Time passed much too quickly and before I knew it we were in front of our houses. He looked at me for a moment and ran his hand through his hair, and I cleared my throat nervously.

  “Well, you guys are welcome to be bored with us anytime you want,” I said. He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

  I nodded and waved as I went to my door, my heart pounding like crazy. I showered and got dressed in my favorite faded, holey jeans and Elway jersey I’ve had forever, drying my hair straight. I went into the kitchen for my morning coffee, and sat down at the table with the newspaper to check the times for the games that Kate and I would be watching.

  Kate emerged from her room dressed in jeans and her Broncos sweatshirt—all smiles as usual. “Mornin’.”

  “How are you?”

  She stirred her coffee smiling widely, and sighed. “Fabulous.”

  I giggled at her expression and toasted us a couple of bagels. We ate our breakfast while reading the paper.

  “So what should we bake today? Brownies?” I asked.

  She thought for a moment and nodded. The rest of the morning we did our usual Sunday-lounging. We played a heated game of Scrabble while we ate leftover enchiladas for lunch, Kate arguing with me over whether ‘hummock’ was an actual word—which of course it is—she just hates losing. Later we made brownies, and while they baked we got comfortable on the sofa.

  The now familiar rumble of Garrett’s Hummer echoed from the drive and made us smile.

  “I would really like to invite them over to watch the game,” Kate said thoughtfully. “But I don’t want to scare them away.”

  “I was thinking the same thing, although I don’t think you would scare Miles.” I smiled at her. “I think he’s smitten.”

  “I sure hope so, he’s awfully sweet. He’s really smart too.”

  “You like him a lot,” I was stating the obvious.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Well, I have to say, from what I’ve seen so far I can’t blame you one bit. He’s really a very nice guy.”

  “Yes, he is.” She rested her chin in her hands and gazed past me. I loved that she was so excited over someone. She’d never been this excited about anyone before.

  The timer went off and Kate pulled the brownies from the oven, placing the pan on a cooling rack and returned to her spot on the sofa. The Broncos weren’t on until four, so we decided to watch the rest of the Dallas game while we waited, both of us stretched out on the couch. I read my book, while Kate looked through one of her cooking magazines, but after a few minutes, she tossed it onto the coffee table and folded her arms in front of her with a huff.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I think it’s ridiculous we’re not inviting the boys over here,” she said in a frustrated tone. “I mean, they seem to enjoy themselves when they’re here, right?” I shrugged at her as she continued to state her case. “What’s the worst they can say? No, we don’t want to come over?” She stood and pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up with determination, walking to the door, and after a brief pause turned to me with a frantic expression on her face. “Well? Aren’t you coming with me?”

  I laughed and got up off the couch and we walked over to the Anderson’s house. Miles opened the door as we were climbing their porch steps, clearly happy to see Kate.

  “Well, hi there,” he said. “Are you two mind-readers or something? We were just talking about you.”

  Garrett barreled out the front door wearing the same Elway jersey he’d worn the first day I saw them. He noticed the jersey I was wearing and laughed loudly.

  “We thought you guys might want to join us for the Broncos game,” Kate told them. “We made brownies, and—”

  Garrett didn’t let her finish. Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the steps toward our house. I laughed so hard I could barely walk straight as he towed me through the front door.

  “What did it for you, the game or the brownies?” I asked.

  “A combination of the two. Not to mention I have a thing for chicks who wear Elway jerseys.” He pulled me with him to the couch and we sat down. “I thought you two would never show up, and my brothers wouldn’t let me come over here. They’re afraid you’ll think we’re stalkers or something.”

  I patted his shoulder soothingly. “Poor, Garrett.”

  “I know. What took you so long?”

  “We don’t want you guys to think the same thing about us.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, like that would happen.”

  “Do you want some brownies?” I asked, and he looked down at me, rolling his eyes—I took that as a ‘yes’. Miles and Kate came in as I set the plate of brownies in front of Garrett, who immediately shoved a whole one into his mouth. I resisted the urge to ask where Michael was as I returned to the kitchen and pulled some ginger ales from the fridge and distributed them.

  “Thanks,” Garrett said, grabbing another brownie. Kate snatched the plate of brownies and held it in front of Miles.

  “You’d better be quick.” She giggled, holding the plate just out of Garrett’s reach. Miles grabbed two before Kate handed the plate back to Garrett. He was on his fourth brownie when the doorbell rang.

  “It’s Michael, he was finishing up some drawings,” Miles said, as I got up from the couch to answer the door.

  It wasn’t Michael.

  A tall blonde, with a blue sweater hugging her curves greeted me with a confused expression.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she leaned to the side to look past me, “I must have the wrong house. I’m looking for Michael Anderson.”

  “Hello, Nina,” Miles came up behind me.

  Nina? I swallowed hard as her wide brown eyes examined me from head to toe. I was right. She was pretty, in an angular, harsh, sort of way. Her bottle-blond hair was long, and smoothed into perfect waves past her shoulders. Her skin was tan and smooth, but her makeup was a little heavy for my taste. I couldn’t find anything wrong with her figure—tall, mostly legs and breasts, with a tiny waist and perfect curves.

  “Our house is there.” Miles motioned across the street. “I don’t think Michael was expecting you, though.”

  She arched an overly-plucked eyebrow. “I’m sure he won’t mind me stopping by. Nice to see you, Miles.” She gave me a curt nod before turning on her heel and walking across the drive. Miles sighed, and pushed the door closed for me.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Her father is one of our clients. She’s tends to be a little…difficult sometimes.”

  “Difficult,” Garrett grumbled under his breath.

  I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of satisfaction. Clearly, Miles and Garrett weren’t very fond of Nina. Based on first impressions, I wasn’t particularly fond of her either, but my reasons were selfish and I knew that.

  It
was a long while before Michael finally joined us. My heart pounded when he smiled at me, and “Hi” was all I could manage. He grimaced at Garrett who was pushing yet another brownie into his mouth. “What are you eating?” Michael asked him.

  “Brownies, why?” Garrett answered with his mouth full, and nudged me with his elbow making me laugh. It didn’t take long before the brownie plate was empty. Garrett leaned back into the couch, patting his stomach and making himself more comfortable. We all watched the game, though Miles and Kate were also having a quiet conversation off and on the entire time. Michael seemed to enjoy himself—he and Garrett laughing when Kate and I would yell at the TV over a missed tackle or a bad call. After the game we decided to go into town for pizza.

  “I’ll drive,” Garrett said.

  When we all climbed into the enormous vehicle it occurred to me why Garrett drove a Hummer. It was probably the only vehicle large enough for his massive size. We ordered pizza and wings, and I watched in awe as Garrett ate an entire pizza by himself, taking three pieces at a time and stacking them on top of each other. We sat for a long time after eating, just talking and laughing, and I loved every single minute.

  SIX

  My alarm woke me much sooner than I wanted. I was tired from our late night with the Andersons, but I got up and got dressed to go for my run anyway. If I was being honest with myself, it wouldn’t matter how tired I was, I looked forward to seeing Michael. I headed out the front door to put my shoes on, and disappointment quickly settled in. No Michael.

  I heaved an audible sigh as I trudged to the gravel road and started my slow jog. I listened to the steady rhythm of my steps against the gravel, accompanied by the morning chirping of birds in the trees and the gentle wind rustling through the pines. Yesterday’s events replayed in my mind and I smiled.

  The distant hum of an approaching vehicle brought me from my reminiscent thoughts, and I moved onto the far side of the shoulder while it passed. This road was usually pretty quiet, but every once in a while huge tractor-trailers barrel down the road at high rates of speed.

  The car passed and just as I picked up my pace again, I heard it; the pathetic meowing of Muffin . After a moment of searching the treetops, I found him hunched in a ball, clinging to one of the limbs. I was really tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was scale a tree, but the cat continued to plead for my help, and I couldn’t ignore the poor thing.

  “Okay, I’m coming,” I assured him, pulling myself up to the lowest of the branches. The cat wasn’t as high in the tree as usual, so I reached him quickly. But just as I stretched my hand toward him, a bird darted from another tree close by, and Muffin lunged toward me with a hiss.

  Startled, I lost my balance and was falling, grasping desperately at branches on my way down. When I hit the ground I managed to hit feet-first, my right ankle twisting in pain, and then THWAP! All the air rushed from my lungs as I fell backwards, and slammed into the ground. I gasped trying to catch my breath and there was a loud ringing in my ears. Somewhere in my mind I registered the sound of screeching tires, and closed my eyes hoping I wasn’t about to become a human speed-bump. When I opened my eyes, Michael’s face was in front of mine, his eyes wide and frantic.

  “Grace?” He searched my face in desperation. “Grace, are you okay?”

  I wasn’t sure if I was okay or not, but I was sure only someone as beautiful as Michael Anderson could look so amazing at seven o’clock in the morning.

  Okay. I was delirious.

  “Can you move?” His voice was anxious.

  “I think so,” I said, and tried to sit up. Michael slid his arm underneath my shoulders to help me. My face flushed with his worried gaze, and I sighed in embarrassment. “I’m fine,” I said, but a throbbing pain from my ankle caused me to wince.

  “Are you hurt?” Michael was still panicked, and he continued to search for visible damage. “What is it?”

  “My stupid ankle,” I replied, wishing I could kill Muffin—or myself, I couldn’t decide which. “I twisted it.”

  “Which one?”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  “I saw you fall.” He shook his head, and his eyes locked with mine. “I’ll be surprised if it isn’t broken.”

  “Trust me, it’s not broken,” I assured him. “I know what broken feels like. This is nothing.”

  He didn’t respond except with a grimace as he stood, and then slid his arm around my waist lifting me gently.

  “Let’s get you home, or should I take you to the E.R.?”

  “Home is fine.” I tried to keep my weight off of the sore ankle as Michael helped me into his car. The Yukon was warm, and smelled of leather and another heavenly scent I couldn’t pinpoint. I surmised it was just him. Classical music played—Bach—which made me smile in spite of the pain emanating from my ankle. Michael climbed into his seat and turned the car around, driving toward the house.

  “I’m sorry about this,” I said, feeling more embarrassed than guilty that he had to disrupt his day because I felt the need to rescue a stupid cat. “What about Muffin? Did you see him?” I turned in my seat as if I would actually be able to see the cat now. Michael reached across and grasped my hand. This did not escape my attention as my eyes flitted between his face, and his hand wrapped around mine.

  “Muffin is fine,” he assured me. “She,” he stopped to correct himself, “he…ran home. I told you he could get down from that tree if he really wanted to. You scared me to death, you know that?”

  I swallowed hard, and noticed what he was wearing. The top of a gray dress shirt and tie peeked beneath a black wool coat. I imagined how gorgeous he probably looked in a dress shirt and tie.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You were obviously on your way somewhere.”

  He squeezed my hand, which caused a thrill of excitement to radiate through me. “Don’t worry about it, really. It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and he finally released my hand. “I’d probably still be lying there if you hadn’t stopped.”

  “Where’s your cell phone?”

  “I don’t bring it with me when I run. I never think I need it.”

  “And what do you think now?”

  “That I should probably start bringing my phone,” I muttered, making him chuckle.

  We pulled in front of my house, and I started to open the door.

  “Just wait a minute,” he instructed as he got out, walking around to open the door and help me out of the car. Once again, his arm slid around my waist, and I leaned into him as we made our way to the front door.

  “What happened?” Garrett yelled from across the road. “Is she okay, Michael?” Before I knew it, Garrett was on the porch opening the front door for us, looking at me worriedly. “Gracie, you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m fine.” I felt uncomfortable with all the fussing, though my ankle was screaming at me. Michael helped me to the couch and Garrett sat beside me, folding his hands together nervously.

  “She fell. Out of a tree,” Michael said the last part with disdain, and Garrett chuckled.

  “Um, Gracie?” Garrett scratched his head and was trying to keep from laughing. “What were you doing in a tree?”

  “Saving a cat,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks get hot. Garrett’s lips pursed together in an effort to keep his laughter at bay, and I felt the need to defend myself. “He gets stuck! I can’t just leave him up there!”

  “Actually,” Garrett said matter-of-factly, “if he wants to get down, he’ll get down.”

  “I told her the same thing,” Michael interjected, and I scowled.

  “Okay, well thanks for your help,” I said, wanting the entertainment at my expense to cease. “I’ll be fine now.” I bent to untie my shoe, and bit my lip to keep from yelping in pain. My ankle really hurt.

  “Here, let me,” Michael said, kneeling in front of me. I watched as he untied my shoe, pulling it off slowly and I tensed from the pain. “Sorry,” he said with a grimace.
He took my sock off and I was thankful I’d recently given myself a pedicure. My ankle was already red and swollen.

  “Do you girls have an ice pack?” Garrett asked.

  “Um, yeah.” I heard him rummage through the freezer. “It’s in the door.”

  He came back to the couch, handing the pack to Michael, who lifted my foot gently, propping it on a pillow and laying the ice pack over it.

  “I think it might be a sprain,” he said. “We’d better go to the E.R.”

  We? Another thrill coursed through me with his use of the word we, but I shook my head.

  “No, really. I just twisted it, it’ll be fine. Thank you so much, though.”

  “Grace,” Michael said patiently. “The swelling is already bad. You need an X-Ray to make sure it isn’t broken.”

  “I can take her,” Garrett said. “Michael, you’d better get to your meeting. You’ll be late.”

  I felt terrible.

  “I can reschedule the meeting,” Michael stood and loosened his tie. “Sandler won’t be there anyway.”

  Garrett and Michael exchanged a look, Garrett raised an eyebrow and Michael grimaced at him before walking to the front door. “I’m going to change clothes, I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks again.”

  He nodded and left pulling the door closed behind him. Garrett chortled a laugh.

  “What?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Just then Kate came down the hallway dressed for work.

  “Hey, Garrett!” she said cheerily. Her smile disappeared when she saw my ankle with an ice pack on it, and she walked over to the couch quickly, kneeling next to me. “What’d you do?”

  “She’s okay,” Garrett said soothingly. “We think she sprained her ankle.”

  Kate pulled something from my hair. “Why do you have bark in your hair?”

  Garrett coughed, trying to hide his laugh and Kate scowled. “That stupid cat,” she grumbled.

  “I’m fine. Garrett and Michael are going to take me to the E.R.”

  She nodded. “I’ll go, too.”

 

‹ Prev