by Heather Hunt
Jack’s grandmother placed a platter of steaming chicken on the table. Within minutes, there were mashed potatoes, gravy, and a plate of the most scrumptious-looking biscuits Grace had ever seen. Her mouth watered, and she had to clasp her hands together to keep from snatching one.
“Let’s bless this food so you can get started,” Grandma Alice smiled at Grace as if she could ascertain her thoughts. “Jack?”
“Thank you Lord for this day. It’s been a hard one, but we can rest assured that you will be there to carry each of us during times like this. Thank you for this food and for the hands that prepared it with love. Thank you for family and for friends and for all of the plans you have for us. Amen.”
“Amen! Now ya’ll get started,” the older woman told them.
“Are you not eating?” Grace asked.
“I’ve already eaten,” she said. “I get the heartburn if I eat too late.”
“Well, thank you for saving this for us,” Grace told her as she filled her plate with a piece of chicken and, to the detriment of her waistline, two biscuits.
“I hope you enjoy,” Grandma Alice said. “There’s nothing better than a good home-cooked meal eaten with family and friends.”
“I have to agree. By the way, I love your home,” she said to both of them. She’d learned from the residents that older people were very territorial. Since Jack’s grandmother was currently living here, she wanted to include her in the comment.
“Oh, I love it, too,” Grandma Alice said. “We’ll be moving to town, though, as soon as Jackson completes his rehab.” She placed a couple of slices of pecan pie next to each of their plates. “This house is wonderful, but it is Jack’s through and through.”
Grace looked around and decided that the place did appear to be the perfect setting for Jack. The space that she could see was a wide-open one, and the rooms on that floor seemed to flow together with ease. There were huge chandeliers made from deer antlers hanging from the cathedral ceilings, and the walls were wide-planked cedar covered with an assortment of beautiful paintings. The floor in the kitchen was a flagstone tile, similar to that on the terrace, but the other rooms boasted beautiful oak floors warmed up with dense, wool area rugs. It was amazing.
Like Jack, Grace thought.
Grandma Alice interrupted Grace’s thoughts with a hurried wave of her free hand. “My knickknacks would be out of place in this manly place.”
“She means her junk,” Jack chimed in between bites of mashed potatoes.
His grandmother gave his hand a swat so hard that he barely held onto his fork.
Jack caught Grace’s attention and winked. It seemed that he enjoyed tormenting his grandmother as much as he enjoyed tormenting Grace herself.
“They’re collectibles, Jack.” She turned to Grace with a guilty smile. “I have a weakness for music boxes.”
“And teapots, and little porcelain birds, and...”
“I think she gets the picture, Jackson,” the older woman’s voice turned stern. “We don’t need your opinion of something you know absolutely nothing about. This is ladies’ talk.”
Grace held in a giggle. This was great! She had just learned who to turn to when Jack needed to be taken down a few notches. The tiny little woman scurrying about the room had the trick down pat.
“How did the residents take it about Emma?” Grandma Alice asked over her shoulder as she wiped down the stove.
“Some better than others,” Grace told her. “Over the past few weeks, a few of the women had formed a little group, and they had tried to include her. They would have tea, take walks, that kind of thing.”
“It was such a shame when Emma came down with the Old Timer’s.”
Grace smiled at the term she’d heard time and time again since moving to Manhattan.
“She had such a gift,” the older woman shook her head.
“What do you mean?” Grace asked.
“Why, she was such a gifted painter. I thought you knew,” she explained as she walked toward the table with a pitcher of sweet tea. “I’ve seen several of her paintings at Mansfield Park. She even taught that pretty little Lily Bridgewater. You would have thought the two were kin the way they got along.”
Grace wracked her mind for a moment, and then things started to become clear. Memories surfaced. Emma’s fascination with the paintings Grace had purchased at the local gallery, her insistence that Grace not touch them, even her detailed explanations of painting that Grace had barely heeded.
“I can’t believe that no one told me,” Grace said. “And all along...”
“Honey, you can’t know everything that goes on around that place of yours,” Grandma Alice said as she refilled their tea glasses. “Well, children, I’m going to have to run.” She whipped off the apron and ran a hand through her short gray curls. “I promised your grandfather I would check on him tonight.”
Jack stood, but his grandmother waved him back to his seat.
“You stay right there with that pretty girl of yours,” she told him.
Grace could feel her face reddening, both at the compliment and the knowledge that Jack’s grandmother was making a late visit to see her husband. She stared at her biscuits and gravy until she could meet the woman’s gaze again. She looked up just as Alice was heading toward what Grace assumed was the stairway to the garage.
“Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Grandma Alice,” Grace called. “I’ve enjoyed renewing our acquaintance.”
“Oh, honey,” the woman smiled, “I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing much more of you.”
“I’ll meet you at the residence to follow you home,” Jack told her as she wrapped a vibrant blue scarf around her neck. “We’ll head over there once we finish up here.”
“Don’t rush, dear,” she told him, “Courting takes time, you know.” And with that, she was gone.
“Courting?” Grace asked. “Is that what it’s called now?”
“She’s got some fancy ideas,” he chuckled.
“I’ll say,” Grace grinned. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?”
“She’s a lot like another woman I know.” Jack put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the upholstered bench seat to watch Grace with steady eyes.
Grace leaned her head to the side and pursed her lips. “And who would that be?” she smiled.
“Don’t be coy, Gracie.”
“As if I would even know how to do that.” Grace took a sip of tea to hide her nervousness.
“I’m pretty sure you’re starting to figure things out,” Jack drawled, his deep blue eyes watching her every movement.
“Did you know about Emma?” Grace suddenly changed the subject. Although there was a table full of food between them, things were becoming a bit too heated. “About her painting, I mean.”
“I had no idea,” he told her. He would go along with this new tangent, at least for a while. They would eventually get back to the real issue at hand, though. That issue being their feelings and what they were going to do about them.
“I can’t believe that I never knew,” she said with amazement. “It was right there in front of my face!”
“Sometimes, things can be staring right at you and you never even realize it,” Jack told her. “Is that what’s going on here, Gracie?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she wavered.
“I think that you do.” He gave her a pointed look. “I think that you’re just too scared to acknowledge it.”
She stared at Jack’s serious face for a moment before placing her fork on the edge of her plate, then she scooted away from the table and gathered up her plate.
“We probably need to clean these things up,” her voice echoed through the cavernous room as she walked toward the sink. “Do you have a dishwasher?”
“To the right of the sink,” he told her with a sigh. “The front panel looks just like the rest of the cabinetry.”
“Nice,” Grace observed as she began loading the d
irty dishes. Anything to keep her hands busy.
She walked back to Jack and motioned toward the table. “Are you finished?”
“I’m finished with this,” he indicated the clean plate with a nod. “As for the rest of the conversation, I’m far from finished. Not by a long shot.”
Grace pretended that she hadn’t heard him, so, biding his time, he stood and began to help her clean up the remainder of their meal. He had a week’s worth...a lifetime’s worth...of things that he wanted to say to Grace, but it was glaringly clear that she wasn’t ready. He would wait, though. Tonight was apparently not the right time. Not only had things been stressful for Grace at the residence this evening, but he’d promised to follow his grandmother home later tonight. There would come a time, though, and it would be sooner rather than later if Jack had anything to say about it. He would make his intentions known to Grace. And then the real work would begin.
Jack smiled.
Grace might not be ready to commit to a relationship, but he’d never been a man to shy away from a little hard work.
And Grace Woodhouse would be worth every second of it!
Chapter Ten
The Female Philosopher
Grace was walking through the building one morning around dawn a couple of weeks later when she heard laughter coming from the Gym. Although the sound didn’t concern her, the idea that someone was up at such an early hour did. She’d planned on coming in early for some quiet time on the elliptical machine.
She headed to the end of the hall to make sure the alarm system showed a green light before heading back toward the Gym. Because of all the weird occurrences at the residence, Jack had warned her to stay on her toes. They suspected that either Agatha North or Richard Watson was the culprit behind the mishaps, but so far, no one had been able to catch anyone in the act.
Jack had also hired a new security firm, and they were working to get a surveillance system installed, but installing wiring and cameras in so many locations took time. Grace hoped that the new cameras, coupled with the new locks and alarm system, would deter any future criminal activity. She and her staff were also keeping their eyes and ears open for anything unusual.
She peeked her head into the Gym and giggled at the sight. Her voice must have carried over the laughter of the other women because one of them turned her head in Grace’s direction.
“Come join us, dear!”
The call came from across the exercise room, and Grace fought back a grin. Even at this early hour, Elinor and Marianne were already conquering the inclines on their respective treadmills at a rapid pace. Although she’d been working out every afternoon with the sisters for the past two weeks, the sight of them in support hose, paired with spandex thongs of all things, still amazed her. It was as close to a sacrilege as you could get in the world of buff and brawn.
For crying out loud, Grace thought. Neither one of them even has enough flab to keep the floss between their butt cheeks!
The thumping sounds of Christian rock music bounced off the walls. Grace shook her head, ruing the day she had disclosed to Marianne the location of the sound system. Now, there was something playing at all times during the day, and during the exercise hour, the music was kicked up a notch or two. Although Grace didn’t particularly care for some of the older tunes which occasionally hit the air waves, she had to admit that the pace of the walkers...and the people using them...had greatly improved in the common hallways.
Grace waved at the sisters and made her way to their side of the room. For the life of her, she could not understand how the people at Mansfield Park, especially the two women currently smiling in sincere invitation, had pulled her into their crazy little world. What was even more surprising to her was that she was loving every minute of it!
“Good morning, ladies.” Grace tossed her duffle bag onto an empty weight bench and headed toward the last treadmill.
She groaned as she realized that she had been left with the one farthest from the mirror. Not only would she be able to see just how pitiful her maximum incline was compared to theirs, but she would also see the entire workout in profile...and she’d decided two weeks ago that she no longer needed to see how much farther her backside eclipsed the taut curves of their nonexistent senior saddlebags.
On the bright side, from her distance, she didn’t have to watch each little jiggle of her own loose flesh as she tried to burn up every last calorie from the cheesecake she had eaten at dinner last night on her date with Jack.
She glanced at the mirror with disgust. Talk about humiliating! What could be worse than comparing your body to those of a couple of senior citizens...and coming up short...or in Grace’s case...wide?
Grace poked at the treadmill keypad until she found a speed and incline she could tolerate, then stepped up to begin her workout, grudgingly admitting that she had just about dealt with most everything in terms of the humiliation scale since her arrival at Mansfield Park. For crying out loud! She was working out with a couple of ladies fifty years her senior...and getting shown up in the process! Could there be anything else more embarrassing?
Unfortunately, there was...especially where the “sisters” were concerned.
Within minutes, Elinor started an interrogation into Grace’s love life. Over the past few months, Grace had come to accept the blatant nosiness of the residents, but sometimes, their comments were a little hard to take. The current topic was a prime example.
“So, you’re having relations with Jackson’s Ellis’ grandson,” Elinor commented between sips of bottled water, her toned legs not missing a stride. “That cute little Jackson the Third.”
“Uh, excuse me?” Grace managed. She was already sucking wind after only a few minutes of exercise, but she was not so out of shape that she couldn’t inject a bit of appalled ire into her response.
“She means─” Marianne chimed in, but Grace was quick in interrupt her.
“─I know what she means, Mari,” Grace gritted her teeth.
How embarrassing!
“Well, dear, we simply heard a rumor that you and Jack were─”
“─I understood that part of the question, too.” Grace tried for a sweet smile. “I’m just surprised that Ellie would ask me something like that.”
“We’re just concerned about you.”
“So you are?” Elinor interrupted her sister, her ears perked up like a bloodhound’s.
“Ellie,” Grace began but found herself quickly reverting to the tongue-tied terror of her first speech class.
After her recent conversations with Jack’s grandfather, Grace should have been a professional at this type of banter, but for some reason, Elinor always evoked feelings of insecurity in Grace. She supposed it was because the older woman projected such an air of formality. Of course, it could have been the bright red lipstick and penciled-in brows. They were terrorizing in themselves! Whatever the reason, though, she had the uncanny ability to bring Grace to a tongue-tied frenzy within seconds.
Grace’s relationship with Marianne was the complete opposite. Marianne had become like a grandmother to Grace from practically the beginning of their unusual friendship. It was as if they had gravitated toward one another. Grace had great respect for the woman, and she had sensed from the beginning that they had a special bond.
Part of it was their common interest in Theodore. Grace had fallen in love with the elderly man, and she was in constant awe of Marianne’s patience. As fit as she was, she could have been traipsing around the countryside doing whatever she pleased. Instead, she had accompanied her husband to Mansfield Park and had dedicated herself to seeing to his care.
Marianne had also greatly influenced Grace’s spiritual walk. Grace had always valued her relationship with Jesus, but, like many younger people, she’d had a tendency to put her personal agenda ahead of God’s. The weekly Bible study and her mid-morning devotionals with Marianne had opened her eyes to many of her own faults and had helped her understand that seeking God’s will for her lif
e was more important than conquering the business world or achieving fame or wealth. It was this renewed spiritual strength that helped Grace finally formulate an answer to Elinor’s question.
“Ellie,” Grace tried again. “First, I don’t think that we should be discussing whatever relationship I might have with Jack.”
“I knew it!” Elinor executed a quick jump and clap that would have put Denise Austin to shame. “I can just tell by looking at that man.”
Grace crammed her ear buds into her ears while trying to stay upright on the treadmill. Elinor’s response was drowned out by the music.
“I did not hear that!” Grace called out to no one in particular as she drifted toward the back of the machine. She picked up her pace, nudged the volume up a notch, and began to sing along with Barlowgirl.
So much for spiritual strength, her conscience nagged her.
“Now that’s just childish,” Elinor’s voice penetrated through the sound of a guitar solo.
Grace popped out her right ear bud.
“Excuse me?” She attempted a churlish look. “How much more juvenile can you get than the locker room smut coming from your own mouth?”
“Oh, dear, that was a good comeback.” Marianne, caught between the two, leaned back in order to allow Grace’s face-off with Ellie. “And quick, too, for someone so young. It’s taken me years to learn how to spar with Ellie. Bravo, Grace!”
For once, Grace ignored Marianne.
“Listen, Ellie,” Grace continued. “I really admire you and Marianne, but my relationship with Jack is really none of your business. However, since I don’t want you to think badly of me, I’ll address your question.”