Falling From Grace (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  I shook my head. “Graham’s supposed to be coming over, remember? I don’t think he’d want to hear about my insecurities stemming from your many, many…many girlfriends.”

  He leaned in, bringing his face dangerously close to mine. “I’m not worried about Graham. I’m more concerned about us; where do we stand, Gee?”

  My stomach did an Olympic qualifying somersault at the sound of him saying the words “us” and “we”. Looking into those shimmering eyes, seeing that incredibly beautiful smile, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance of divinity that was absolutely unnatural and, ironically, very, very sinful, I should have been willing to give him whatever it was that he wanted. Heaven knew that I wanted to… “I think where we stand is on the precipice of a very good friendship…as long as you stop calling me Gee.”

  He pulled away from me, the frustration written clearly on his face. “That’s not exactly making me feel better.”

  I smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing that this isn’t about you then, isn’t it?”

  He returned my smile. “A very good thing, because if it were, I’d have to start questioning whether or not I truly am what I’ve been brought up to believe. This is very disconcerting, not having any sway over you.”

  “Oh, you still have sway, just not as much as you’d like, or are used to.” I put my hand over his, wondering how that felt, having his fingers sandwiched between my plastered limbs.

  “I wouldn’t know; I can’t feel anything.”

  I started to remove my hand, that statement having caught me off guard. He quickly placed his other hand on top, holding me firmly in place. I looked at my hand, now sandwiched between his, feeling the heat radiate through the still shell. “I…I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t pull away every time you don’t understand something, Grace. There are a lot of things about me you’ll never understand, and if all you want from me is friendship, even that won’t survive your constant retreats.”

  “Well then start explaining, because I’m feeling very confused here,” I bit out, my patience wearing thin underneath the weight of my annoyance.

  He grunted, a sly grin spreading on his face. “I thought you didn’t want to discuss anything because Graham was coming over.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And I thought you weren’t worried about him. Please, tell me what you mean when you say that you can’t feel anything.” I slowly removed my hand from beneath his and placed it against his cheek. “You can’t feel this?”

  He shook his head. “I can see how it feels through your eyes; you feel my warmth, the smoothness of my cheek, the way your hand gets hotter just by touching my skin, but I can’t feel it myself, only through you, and even then, it’s merely a reflection of your own emotions. It’s one of the many things that separates us from humans.”

  “But you’ve never said anything before. All this time, I thought…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know how.

  “I don’t need to physically feel anything when I can appreciate how it feels to someone else,” he said quickly, covering my hand on his face with his, “Isn’t it better that I can see how you feel when you touch me…and I touch you, and enjoy that for what it is worth?”

  “No. It isn’t better. It’s tragic. To not be able to feel the touch of another person is one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. And it’s also disturbing, if you want to know the truth. All of the times you touched me, you really weren’t. I know it wasn’t, but I can’t help but feel like it was all a lie.” I pulled away from him, but he prevented me from extricating my hand from his face.

  Robert shook his head again. “Every time I held your hand, touched your face, kissed your hair, I could feel it from you, through you. It is enough for me. I cannot ask for anything more than that, Grace, especially considering all that I am and all that I have available to me. That would be selfish of me—to want something so much—just to be able to feel your softness, or your warmth.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re an angel. What kind of sick, twisted joke is it that angels can’t feel anything?” I scoffed.

  A sad smile formed on Robert’s lips…lips that had never felt a kiss, and never would. “Grace, I can feel. That’s what I’m trying to tell you—I feel everything through humans. Empathy and sympathy are things many humans say they feel, but those are things that we must feel. It is a part of who we are. It helps us to understand those that we’re supposed to help or punish. Without it, what good are we? What good is our purpose here if we are incapable of truly understanding its value amongst your kind?”

  “So you’re telling me that you’re okay with this? You’re okay with knowing that the only way you can feel is through someone else’s thoughts?” I was in disbelief that someone could accept such limitations.

  “What else can I be but okay with it? I’ve had over fifteen hundred years to get used to it, Grace. It’s not as though I just discovered this little tidbit yesterday.” His voice seemed agitated. His beautiful mouth turned down in a slight frown, the corners hinting at a full grimace. “I won’t lie and say that I wouldn’t love to be able to feel the sun’s warmth on my face, or grass between my toes, or any other cliché that comes along that you humans take for granted. Of course I would love that. To have my own memory, instead of someone else’s would be a gift! But I’m not going to get upset or angry because I can’t.”

  His eyes were steel again. I knew he was upset. I seemed to be very good at doing that: Working his angelic emotions towards absolute human sentimental levels.

  He laced his fingers with mine, and looked ready to say something else, but the sound of the doorbell ringing stopped him. Or maybe he had stopped just a second beforehand, having already known who was out there and what they were preparing to do.

  Janice came back out of the kitchen, the seemingly obligatory kitchen towel between her hands. “I’ll get that. You two stay put.” She walked towards the front door, opening it with a wide arc. “I was wondering when you’d smell dinner cooking! Come in!”

  She came leading a dripping wet Graham behind her. He was soaked from the rain I had not realized had started to fall, and he still had that hard expression on his face that he’d had when he left the auditorium. He took one look at Robert and his expression became even more stern.

  “Let me go and get you a towel, Graham.” Janice was staring at the drops of water that were pooling on the floor beneath Graham. I could see that it was bothering her. When she returned with an old towel for him, Graham thanked her roughly. His mood wasn’t about to give way for any sort of politeness for Janice. Or Robert, by the way he was glaring at him.

  “So what took you so long?” I asked, trying to bring his focus to me. “I could have sworn you left before I did.”

  “I was planning to, but I forgot that I had practice today. I stayed for as long as necessary, then came here. Fortunately the rain kept us from stinking.”

  I agreed. “I, for one, am definitely glad for that. You always seem to stink something fierce after football practice.” I wrinkled my nose to emphasize the word “stink”.

  He smiled, his dark mood lifting ever so slightly. “Well, now that I’m here, I want to talk about what happened today-” he glanced at Robert again, shifting his gaze downward to our hands still intertwined, “-alone.”

  Robert’s grip loosened, and he removed his hand from mine. He stood up, and sighed. “I think I know when my presence is no longer required.” He turned to look at me, and smiled sadly. “I’ll talk to you later, Grace.”

  I watched, dumbfounded as he quietly left. Why were things always so hot and cold when it came to his reactions? And he was telling me to not pull away? I shook my head, the disbelief and the slow growing burn of disappointment in my chest fighting for a place to take hold. I looked at Graham, hoping that something in his face would give me cause to stop it.

  I saw the smug smile, and the thoughts that caused them written clearly on his face; the disbelief turned into anger
in an instant.

  “Why did you do that?” I demanded. “What gives you the right to act like that, to come into my house and make demands like that?”

  The smug smile did not leave his face, but some of the gleam from his eyes did. “I’m your friend, Grace, and I care about what happens to you.”

  “Sure. Now. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t have cared less about what happened to me.”

  “That’s not true. It’s just that-”

  “-you cared more for Erica. She was definitely worth it, wasn’t she?” I knew I shouldn’t have said it, but I did, and I didn’t regret it.

  “She wasn’t worth it. You know that,” he replied softly. His head hung down with obvious regret.

  My head bobbed once in agreement with him. “You threw our entire friendship away because of her, and she ended up hurting you because of me anyway. And, try as I might, I can’t help but feel badly because of it. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit by and let you be rude to my friends, Graham.”

  “Didn’t you hear me earlier today, Grace? Erica’s got her sights set on getting him. She told me about their date the night you were hit by that car. She told me about her date with him last night. Don’t you see, Grace? He’s just as attracted to her as I was. The only difference between the two of us is that I care enough about you to stop seeing her.”

  “Wait. What was that about him going out on a date with her last night?” My heart sank so hard, so fast, I was sure that he’d heard it hit the ground. My doubts came, one by one, rushing around me like a mob shouting their thoughts.

  “They went to the movies last night. She had told me that she had to prepare for today and that we couldn’t go out, but she was out with him. And it’s not the first time either. Don’t you see? He’s going to hurt you just like I did. I don’t want you to go through that again, Grace.”

  I couldn’t help the snort that came out of me. “You don’t want me to go through that again? Convenient, isn’t it? Being able to just fall into the role of savior and protector after being the villain? You know, Graham, all of this might actually mean something to me if you hadn’t been the reason why I needed Robert’s friendship in the first place.” I stood up, struggling a bit with the rocking motion of the recliner, and glowered at him.

  “And just so you know, he told me about that first date. Unlike you, he could see through Erica, and merely went out with her to find out what she had planned for me.”

  “Is that what he told you? And you believe him?” He grabbed my arm, his grip strong and possessive.

  I yanked myself away from him angrily. “Yes, I believe him. He wouldn’t lie to me, Graham.” Of course he wouldn’t lie to me. He couldn’t. He had told me the truth, before I had even known that he was incapable of doing anything but. Whatever his reasons for seeing Erica again last night, they weren’t because he was interested in her. All of the screaming doubts quieted and left me, leaving behind them a void that longed to be filled and everything seemed to shift inside of me.

  I had admitted to myself that I wanted Robert in my life no matter what, in any capacity, but I had let the bitter doubts to remain, allowed them to rush out at the slightest provocation. But now I realized—understood really—that even though he was an angel, he wasn’t perfect, and I had been measuring myself against that false perfection.

  I looked at Graham, and I couldn’t be mad at him. If he hadn’t been so cruel to me, hadn’t destroyed any and all hope I had had in him loving me the way that I loved him, I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the gift that was Robert.

  But what of the love I had for Graham? For so long I had thought that what I felt was the pure emotion of being in love; I had hoped that what he felt for me was the same. Not only had he not been willing to return my affections, he had also alienated me from his life so completely, he had sent my heart spiraling to the ground, mortally wounding it…or so I thought.

  Instead, it crashed right through the earth, only to emerge on the other side, stronger, vibrant, although disguised in many layers of self-doubt, and pessimism. His hurtful actions had saved me from spending a lifetime of not seeing what it was that I deserved.

  “Thank you, Graham.” I hugged him, so truly grateful for the gift he had unwittingly given me by breaking my heart.

  “Huh? For what?” His voice sounded bewildered, but his arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tight.

  I pulled away slightly to look up into his face. “For being my friend. For all the years of being my friend, and for the moments when you weren’t. For caring about me, for being here now, with love in your heart, and for having concern about mine. You’ve helped me see things in a new light, Graham.” I stood up on the tips of my toes and pressed my lips against his cheek. “I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

  “Uh…you’re welcome?” Graham snorted at his own confusion, but sobered up quickly, his voice suddenly somber. “I am your friend, Grace. I regret every moment that I wasn’t. I know that what I did…and what I didn’t do isn’t what a friend would’ve done, and I’m never going to forgive myself for that. I never betrayed your trust though, Grace. I never told Erica a single secret that you shared with me…and what I did tell her was stupid…I’m gonna try to make it up to you, Grace—forever it that’s what it takes.”

  “I know, Graham. I know. And as my friend, please, I want you to promise me that you’ll trust my judgment.”

  He pulled away, understanding what I was asking. Judging by the way his body stiffened, he didn’t like it. “Graham, I don’t want to hear your complaints. I just want your friendship and your trust here. I think after everything that’s happened between us, I deserve to have that.”

  “You have my friendship, Grace, but I have to question your judgment. You trusted me and I crushed you, big time. You know this Robert guy for just a few weeks and you’re ready to trust him the same way you did me. That scares me, Grace.”

  I sighed, and pulled Graham close again. “Please. Please, trust me, Graham. He’s different. If I’m wrong, you have free reign to totally rub it in. I’ll even let you do it with your lucky gym shorts on.”

  I felt his body shake with amusement. “I think that’s a pretty good offer.” He pulled away again, but this time, he was smiling. “Just give me fair warning though, when he screws up-”

  “If,” I interjected.

  “Okay, if he screws up. I want enough time to practice my rubbing in.” He winked, and then pulled me back into a very strong embrace.

  Graham’s return into my life was now complete. He’d shifted roles a bit, but his fit was even tighter and more perfect than it had been before. I was happy.

  MIST

  Happy was a relative thing. Graham had left after dinner, as usual, stopping only to ask me if I wanted to visit the cemetery with him on Saturday.

  One of the few things that we had in common which bonded us closer than most friends was the fact that we had both lost someone we loved very much; while I’d visit mom’s grave, he’d visit the grave of his grandmother who had died just a few short weeks before the car accident that had killed my mom.

  I had told him that I’d call him when I woke up and let him know what my plans were. It was enough for him and he said he’d try to wake up early so that he’d be the one to answer the phone. I had to admit that I was definitely enjoying this new fit.

  After I had taken a shower and said my goodnights to Dad and Janice downstairs, I climbed back up, not bothering with the pretense of needing the crutches, and prepared to go to bed. The events of the day had finally begun to weigh down on me and I felt emotionally and physically exhausted. The lure of the seductive mistress called sleep was so tempting, even the blatantly coordinated bedding that Janice had somehow managed to dress my bed and pillows in wasn’t enough to keep me from collapsing in a heap atop it.

  It seemed, though, that as soon as my eyes had shut, the alarm on my dresser was announcing the start of another day. Those nights were always th
e worst to wake up from. No dreams, and yet…no rest. I felt like a zombie who hadn’t had its fill of internal organs.

  I scooted on my butt to the foot of my bed and reached for the alarm clock. My fingers’ memory knew exactly where to push to turn the beeping off, and the silence that followed was heavenly. I stretched my arms out, a yawn breaking free and pulling out the tail end of the sleep that had yet to be fulfilled.

  As I tried to open my eyes to the blurry shape that was my clock, my gaze instead focused on an object that was sitting beside it that I knew had not been there when I went to bed. It was a square vase with a single flower in it. I didn’t know what type of flower it was since it wasn’t a rose or a daffodil, the only two flowers I could recognize on sight.

  It had five angular petals, their edges wavy, like curled ribbon. The base of each petal was a soft white, with a heart of deep pink running down the center towards each tip. The pink looked freckled with the same soft shade of white, as well as creams and light browns, and the center of the blossom held several stem-like projections that contained lumpy shaped objects covered in yellow spheres of what I could only guess to be pollen.

  It looked like a star; a freckled, pink and white star. Underneath the vase was a small envelope. Quickly, with nervous fingers I reached for it, plying my fingernail beneath the edge of the opening and pulling out the tiny card that lay within.

  The card held the familiar handwriting that was far too beautiful to really come from anything other than something supernatural and divine. I touched the scrolled letters.

  “A gift to your mother, because without her, you would not exist in this world. With great affection, your very good friend.”

  “Cheater,” I muttered, and smiled. He wanted me to place the flower on mom’s grave. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me, and I felt warmth rush to my cheeks, a blush caused by no one, seen by no one, and yet embarrassing all the same. I pressed my hands to my cheeks, as though to push the blood back down, and sighed. “Silly.”