by Stacey Wilk
He also kept pestering her to stay. She’d stayed longer than she thought. She was getting comfortable in Blaise’s house. That scared her a little. Blaise had come to her almost every night, and she opened her arms to him. She craved him and feared what it meant at the same time. She didn’t want to make any more mistakes.
The fundraiser was that evening. Blaise left early with Cash and Chloe; they wanted to rehearse and sound check. They’d be playing some songs from Savage, acoustic form because they didn’t have a full band, and some of the new stuff Blaise wrote. He was going to be wonderful.
Grace would head over right when they were about to go on. She’d stay to the back of the lot, away from the stage. She didn’t want to get in Savannah’s way or hear any of the whisperings going on about the fire.
She had stalled long enough. It was time to go to the library, but one stop first.
She wandered through her disaster house. The beauty was there if given a chance. The house had been neglected, as she had. With a little love, they both could be okay again. She ran her hand across the top of the table Beau made for her. It really was a lovely piece and thankfully, not damaged in the fire. Families were made around tables filled with good food and stories and time together. So much thought went into making this table. Grace would dare to even say love. Love. Of family.
She walked over to the show, knowing parking would be tough. The poplars hung heavy and low along the walk. The smell of honeysuckle filled the air. The Bucknells waved and said hello as she passed. Heritage River had calmed her nerves and offered her a place to find herself again. Thanks to this town, she found Blaise and a chance at happiness.
Her steps quickened. This town still had so much to teach her. She hadn’t even been inside the bakery yet. She had heard wonderful things about May’s homemade muffins, and Beau couldn’t start his morning without her coffee. May’s was the Saturday morning gathering place to get all the local news. Friends met there. Families gathered around May’s small tables.
She hurried around the corner onto Main Street. Her breath came in short bursts. Voices from a large crowd gathering drifted in her direction.
The Disaster House was really her second-chance house. Her father knew what she needed even when she didn’t. Couldn’t she be grateful for that? Could she in time learn to forgive him? Maybe if she sat with Beau and learned a little more about her father she’d understand.
In a few weeks, Chloe was leaving for school. Grace didn’t relish the idea of wandering the streets of Silverside. No one sat on their front porches at night. It was a backyard town, and she was tired of being alone.
She ran. It didn’t matter how foolish she looked. She had no plan and knew in her heart this time she didn’t need one. Everything would work out.
The music had already started. She hadn’t arrived in time. Grace waited in the back of the crowd. This was Blaise’s time to shine. What she had to say could wait.
“Hi.” Savannah slipped in alongside her. Grace’s back stiffened.
“Hello. Looks like you got a big crowd.”
Savannah clasped her hands behind her back. “Blaise really pulled through. We’re going to get those computers now.” Savannah turned to her. “Grace, I’m sorry. For your house, for not listening to you.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “It’s okay. Really. You were just being a protective mother. I would’ve done the same thing.”
“I don’t understand what got into Jud. He says no one prompted him to set the fire, but he couldn’t have acted alone. He would never do anything like that.” Savannah placed a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I was sorry.” She slipped back into the crowd.
Savannah didn’t understand what got into Jud? Was she kidding?
“Okay, folks, we’re going to take a short break. We’ll be right back. Get yourself some refreshments. May donated her famous cookies and bread,” Blaise said into the mic, and the crowd cheered.
Grace couldn’t wait another minute. She pushed and shoved her way to the front of the people gathered at the stage. Chloe and Beau sat in the front row. Chloe turned to her and waved. Grace’s heart swelled. Beau tipped his chin at her. This was her family. The daughter she gave birth to and the tetchy old man she found along the way.
Blaise and Cash tried to make their way off the stage but were met by fans wanting autographs.
Grace tried to catch Blaise’s eye. She jumped up and down, then waved.
He looked up from signing and smiled at her. He handed the pen and paper to Cash. “He’s the guy you want.” Blaise patted the man wanting the autograph on the shoulder and walked toward her.
Butterflies flapped in her stomach as Blaise came closer, his hair slicked back, his shirt wet with sweat. He smiled long and hard. His eyes twinkled. “Hey, babe. You made it.”
“I need to talk to you. For a minute.”
The smile on his face dropped. “Are you okay?"
She grabbed his hand and dragged him to a quieter spot near the dumpster. “This isn’t the ideal spot or the best time, but I couldn’t wait.” Her heart pounded in her ears. She looked up at him and saw the truth. “You are my home. Before I moved here, I couldn’t imagine I’d fall in love and stay, and now I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“I want each and every moment filled with you. You’re where I knew you belonged—with me.”
He cupped her face in his strong hands and leaned in to kiss her. He tasted salty and sweet, and she wanted more. But there would be time. A lifetime.
A word about the author…
Stacey Wilk wrote her first novel in middle school to quiet the characters in her head. It was that or let them out to eat the cannoli, and she wasn’t sharing her grandfather’s Italian pastries.
Many years later, her life took an adventurous turn when she gave birth to two different kinds of characters. She often sits in awe of their abilities to make objects fly, make it snow on command, and remain dirty after contact with water. She does share the cannoli with them for fear of having her fingers bit off if she doesn’t.
Because of the extraordinary characters now in her home instead of in her head, including a king who surfaces after dark and for coffee, she writes novels about family: those that we are born to and those that we pick up along the way. You can find her message in her middle-grade fantasy novels as well as her women’s fiction novels. Family are those that love you when you need them.
When she’s not creating stories in make-believe places, she can be found hanging with the cast members of her house, or teaching others how to make make-believe worlds of their own. Stop by for a visit, and make sure to bring some cannoli.
http://www.staceywilk.com
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