The Many Lives of June Crandall

by Suzanne Whitfield Vince

"The Matrix," Matt said. "Have a seat. It's just getting started."

  Antonio looked at Grace and she nodded. "Go ahead. I'm going to go change and I'll join you."

  Valerie followed her to the bedroom, which had been sectioned off from the open space of the loft with dividers. "So, when were you going to tell me about Antonio? How many times have you gone out with him? Is it serious? I told Matt we should''ve set you up with him, but he felt too bad about the first two setups to consider a third."

  Grace slipped into a pair of jeans and pulled a black sweater over her head.

  Valerie stood, hands on hips, waiting for answers but Grace ignored her until her friend could take it no longer.

  "Well?"

  "Okay. Soon. This was not a date, it was just dinner. Ergo, not serious. Thank you for not setting me up a third time."

  Valerie heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. "Technically, if you went out the night we all went to Luigi's, this is the second date. And yes, it is so a date. He brought you flowers! I know you better than anyone, Grace, and I can tell that you like this guy. Now why don't you just admit it?"

  "He's very nice, and I do like him. But not like that."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't feel all...romantic comedy about him like you do Matt."

  Valerie squinted and cocked her head. "He's the first guy you've ever dated, which tells me you like him more than you are willing to admit.""

  "My best friend abandoned me. Maybe I was just lonely and needed a new friend. You ever think about that, counselor?"

  Valerie smiled. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Now come on, let's go join our boyfriends and watch the movie."

  Grace shot her a look, and they both laughed. Though Valerie technically still lived there, she was rarely home, and Grace missed her more than she cared to think about. The loft was so quiet and lonely without her friend. Sometimes she slept in Valerie's bed, even though it was right beside her own, just to quiet the loneliness inside her.

  Before they joined the men, she tugged on Valerie's arm. "I have a favor to ask. Please don't mention our past to Antonio. I haven''t told him that part of my life yet. Okay?"

  Valerie hugged her. "Okay. But don't take too long. He's one of the good guys. It'll be no big deal to him."

  When the movie was over, Valerie and Matt left, and Grace walked Antonio to the door. "Thank you for dinner," she said, "and for hanging out and watching the movie. It was fun.""

  "Yes, it was. Would it be all right if I call you again?"

  "I'd like that." She wasn't at all sure that she would answer but she was glad that he at least wanted to call.

  She closed the door behind him, grateful that he hadn't tried to kiss her, and turned out the lights.

  After changing into her nightgown, she crawled into Valerie's bed and hugged the pillow to her. Life was changing again, and she'd never done well with change. She wanted her friend, not a replacement friend. Especially not one who was a boy. Okay, a man. Definitely a man.

  But still.

  Chapter Twenty

  The holiday show at the gallery was a huge success, and by the end of the weekend Grace was exhausted. She'd missed one call from Antonio, but this time she had a legitimate excuse. She went to bed early Sunday night, drained from the hectic weekend, and had almost drifted off when the phone rang.

  "Hello?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  "Were you sleeping?" the voice on the other end asked.

  It was Antonio and she was surprised to find herself smiling at the sound of his voice. "No, just unwinding after a busy weekend."

  They talked for an hour, and before they hung up, he asked her to dinner again on Friday night. And she accepted. He called her every night after that, but she didn't pick up every time. She liked talking to him, but she didn't want to become dependent on him.

  The buzz of the doorbell sent an electric shock through her body. Tonight was the night she was going to tell Antonio the truth about her childhood. Well, at least the broad strokes, not the details. The details were better locked safely inside her trunk, along with the sketches of her would-be mother, and all her other ridiculous childhood fantasies.

  But she figured that if she and Antonio were going to be friends, she owed him some background. Still, she couldn't help wondering how he would take the news. Would he still want to be with someone who had been discarded by her own parents and left to be raised by strangers? Would anyone?

  She hoped Valerie was right, and that it would be no big deal to Antonio. And if it was, then better for him to leave now. Before she had any feelings invested.

  She pulled the door open and smiled at the familiar face.

  Antonio's face lit up and her own smile widened. Even bundled in a ski parka and a stocking cap, he was almost irresistible. She took a step back and ushered him inside.

  "It sure smells good in here," he said. "I'm guessing we''re not going out?"

  "I thought I'd surprise you and make dinner. I hope you don't mind." She hung his coat on the rack behind the front door.

  She'd never had to cook for herself, but since she moved into her own place, she'd purchased a few cookbooks and practiced on Valerie, who proclaimed that she was an outstanding chef. Grace knew that Valerie was just grateful not to be eating cafeteria food anymore. Tonight she was serving a simple lasagna and salad.

  "I suppose that'd be okay," he said, and she gave him a playful punch on the arm.

  She placed the poinsettia he'd brought onto the table, and it made for a beautiful centerpiece, the sole evidence of the impending holiday season. She handed Antonio a corkscrew and pointed to a bottle of Chardonnay she'd just pulled from the fridge.

  He opened it and poured them each a glass. He lifted his and offered a toast. "To you," he said.

  "To new friends," she said, and they clinked glasses.

  Over dinner, Antonio told her about his most recent case.

  "My client was accused of raping a woman nine years ago. The woman who accused him came forward and confessed that she lied about being raped, but the police refuse to reopen the case. No DNA evidence was ever found. He was convicted on her testimony alone."

  "God, that poor man. What made her decide to come forward after all these years?"

  "She decided to get sober, went to rehab, and says she's working the steps. Needs to confess. She was stunned when the police didn't believe her. She remembered your article in the Times and came to see us. We're not having a lot of luck with the police or the courts."

  Grace felt Antonio's frustration and offered to do a follow-up piece about it. "You never know, media intervention might help. Would the woman who accused him be willing to talk to me?"

  "I believe she would. She's been very helpful in assisting us with the case."

  They talked more about the case, and Antonio said he'd ask the woman whether she'd be willing to be interviewed. After dinner, Grace showed him her art studio.

  She had a few completed pieces propped up against the wall, and one still on the easel, in progress. His eyes widened as he scanned the paintings. "These are amazing."

  "Thanks," she said. "I still have a ways to go before I'm good enough to show, but I have a mentor who's helping me."

  They moved to the living room and sat down on the sofa, and he poured them each another glass of wine.

  "Antonio." She left her wine on the table and turned to him. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

  "Sure, what is it?"

  Trying to quell the sudden tremor of anxiety tumbling through her, she drew a deep breath and pasted on a smile. "The other night, the last time we went to dinner, you asked about my family. Whether I planned to spend the holidays with them."

  "Yeah, I remember," he said casually.

  See, it's no big deal, just like Valerie said. Just say it already.

  "I don't actually have any family."

  He flashed a curious expression. "No family at all?"

&nb
sp; "No."

  She watched as he took in the words and tried to process them.

  "I don't...I mean, what happened?" Antonio asked.

  Suddenly the words she'd rehearsed betrayed her, left her scrambling for something to say. "My parents were killed in a car accident when I was in high school. I lived with an aunt in Peekskill afterward, but she died last year.""

  The shock of her own words paralyzed her. Where had they come from? Why hadn't she just told him the truth? But she knew. The truth--the whole truth--was ugly. And she wasn''t willing to risk losing him. Not yet.

  She buried her face in her hands to hide her shame. She didn't even realize she was crying until he pulled her hands away and drew her into his arms.

  "Shhh," he murmured. "It's okay. Everything will be okay.""

  Everything will be okay.

  Her tears froze mid-stream at the words. It would not be okay. But this time it was her own fault.

  Antonio gently wiped her tears with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, Grace. I can't imagine how difficult that must've been. But you're a survivor. I knew it the first time I met you."

  She looked up sharply, her cheeks still damp with tears. He'd called her a survivor. And she was, she supposed. But why didn't she feel like one? Right now she felt more like a big fat liar and she was surprised he hadn't seen right through her lie. But maybe the lie wasn't so bad. At least not compared to the truth. The truth was worse. But still, he'd seen something in her, something she hoped one day she'd see in herself. "You did?"

  His smile was a gentle caress. "Yes, I did. So it's settled. You'll spend Christmas with us. But I'll warn you, my family can be a little loud and obnoxious, and I can't promise that my Uncle Santino won't hit on you. But don't worry, I''ll protect you."

  She couldn't help but laugh at the description of his family. Her whole life she'd dreamed about being part of just such a family. "I, no, I don''t want to intrude, Antonio."

  "It's not a pity invitation, honest." He grinned sheepishly. "It''s just that...holidays are for family, and friends, and I'd love for you to share it with us. And don't worry, you won''t be the only stray there, I promise."

  They laughed together this time. "A stray, huh? Is that what I am now?"

  "If the slipper fits, Cinderella." His eyes crinkled at the corners.

  "Well, how can I say no to that?"

  "So, you'll come?"

  "Yes, I'll come. But I have to be home before midnight."

  Suddenly her lie didn't seem so bad. She'd tell him the truth one day. As soon as she was sure he wouldn't leave.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grace had a wonderful time on Christmas and enjoyed meeting Antonio's family. The Ramos's were warm and kind, and it was easy to see how much they loved each other. Even Uncle Santino appeared to be on his best behavior. She tried hard not to think about how much she'd missed by growing up in an orphanage. About how different her life might've been if her mother had loved her enough to keep her. But it was hard not to.

  When she arrived home from dinner, the phone was ringing. It was Valerie, who was spending Christmas in Oregon with Matt and his family.

  "I'm getting married!" she said.

  "What?"

  "He asked me to marry him, Grace, can you believe it?"

  No, she couldn't. They were supposed to become old spinsters and live in a mansion by the sea. And have twenty-seven cats.

  She grabbed a nearby stool, sat down with a thud, and summoned as much enthusiasm as should could. "I'm so happy for you. When's the big day?"" She hoped she sounded as happy as Valerie deserved. And she was. She was just also incredibly sad. It meant Valerie would be moving out completely. For real. And forever.

  "Not until I graduate from law school. It's more than a year away, which leaves more time to plan. Isn't it exciting?"

  "Of course it is." A small sob escaped her throat.

  "Hey, oh, Grace, I'm...how unbelievably selfish of me. I should've waited, and told you in person."

  Valerie hesitated before going on. "I know, it was always supposed to be just us and our sixty-seven cats. I never thought I'd fall in love, but I did. You will, too, someday. And besides, I'm not going anywhere. You're still my best friend. That will never change. You know that, right?"

  Grace nodded, but her chest was still tight. "Twenty-seven cats," she said.

  "What?" Valerie asked.

  "We were supposed to live in a mansion by the sea and have twenty-seven cats."

  "Oh, right. Hey, do you want me to come home? I will, if you want me to."

  Grace knew she would, but she didn't want her to. "No, stay. And have fun. Seriously, I'm fine. I guess it's just the Christmas blues. I honestly couldn't be happier for you and Matt. I mean it."

  "Did you spend the day alone?" Valerie asked.

  "No, I spent it with Antonio and his family. I had a wonderful time. You were right. He's one of the good ones." She didn''t tell Valerie about the lie she'd told Antonio. When Valerie asked, Grace told her that she hadn't gotten around to discussing her past with him yet. Valerie promised to keep quiet but assured her again that it would be no big deal. The problem was, Valerie didn't even know the half of it. She knew about Robert Sampson, but not the rest. Not even her desperate attempt to find her mother. And if she was unable to share the most intimate details of her life with her best friend, how would she ever find the courage to share them with Antonio?

  They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. Grace climbed into bed, her own this time, and thought about Maggie. Oh, how she longed for the comforting arms of the first woman she'd given her heart to. It had been almost fourteen years since she'd felt them around her. And then she pushed the thought from her mind.

  She turned on the television, and the loneliness that had enveloped her lessened its grip.

  2002

  Grace hadn't seen much of Valerie in the two months since she'd returned from Oregon. Between school, homework, and her work at the Project, there wasn't much time for fun, Valerie had said. But today they were meeting for lunch downtown.

  "So, how are things with Antonio?" Valerie asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  "I hate to disappoint you, Gossip Girl, but we're only friends."

  "Yeah, right."

  "Why, what does Antonio say about it?"

  "Him? He's even more tight-lipped than you are. But I don't buy it. Come on, tell me. Is he a good lover? He's Latino. He has to be a good lover."

  Grace launched a French fry at her friend. She and Antonio had been hanging out for more than a month and he hadn't even tried kissing her, which suited her just fine. "I told you, we're just friends."

  "So? Be friends with benefits."

  Grace arched an eyebrow. "What benefits exactly?"

  Valerie rolled her eyes. "Use your imagination. Or if that fails, there's always the Internet."

  It sounded intriguing, and though she didn't want to give her friend the satisfaction, she smiled at the thought.

  "Aha! You're thinking about it. I knew it!"

  The next night, Antonio took Grace ice-skating in Rockefeller Center. Wispy flakes of snow fell as they skated, and this time, they both stuck their tongues out to catch the flakes. Afterward they bought a couple of hot dogs from a street vendor for dinner. When they finished the dogs, they stopped at another vendor for a hot chocolate and walked the rest of the way back to Greenwich Village.

  He saw her into the loft and had just turned to leave when she reached for his arm. When he turned back to her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. The kiss was brief but his lips were soft and warm. Then he bent down, took her face in his hands and kissed her properly. It was a toe-tingling kiss. One she knew she would never forget.

  Afterward, she grinned up at him and giggled.

  "Something funny?"

  "I guess that makes us friends with benefits."

  He laughed heartily. "Yeah, silly girl, we're friends with benefits."

  The following wee
k, Grace met with Mary Parker, the woman who had accused Antonio's client, Eduardo Sanchez, of raping her nine years before. She told Grace that her parents had given her an ultimatum--go into rehab for her drug and alcohol issues or move out. She was twenty at the time. A few days later, she was at a party where she met Mr. Sanchez, and over the course of the evening, she concocted a plan. After seducing him and having consensual sex with him in the upstairs bathroom, she left the party, tore her blouse and scratched her face, and ran home, telling her parents that she'd been raped.

  Her plan worked, and her parents didn't kick her out of the house. The thing she hadn't counted on was the guilt she felt when Eduardo Sanchez was convicted. She drank even more to drown the guilt, and when that stopped working, she turned to prescription pain pills, which seemed to do the trick. Until she got clean and sober. And confessed her sin. Except that the police didn't believe her.

  Grace wrote an article for the Times but never sent it. Instead, she emailed it to the police detective Mary had spoken to, and told him that he had one week to make something happen or she would send it to her editor at the paper. She never received a reply, but six days after she'd sent the email, Antonio called to give her the good news. The police were voiding Mr. Sanchez's conviction. He would be freed within the month.

  Grace and Antonio tried to see each other a few times a week, and talked on the phone most days in between, but in April, the calls began to trail off and she was lucky to see him once a week.

  When she'd missed his call because she was working late at the gallery, she realized he hadn't called for two nights in a row before that. When she listened to his message, he sounded detached, as if calling her was some kind of obligation. She would never be someone's obligation. She'd had enough of that with the nuns.

  The following two nights she ignored his calls but listened to the messages as he left them. He sounded exasperated, almost angry that she wouldn't pick up. She'd been waiting for this to happen. Expecting it to happen. She knew that sooner or later, he would get tired of spending time with her. And that time had come.