Mended Hearts (New Beginnings Series)

by Mandie Tepe

  “Stop,” Sonny said. He looked uncomfortable. “Any one of you guys would have done the same thing.”

  “Maybe not as well, though. And that’s the truth,” Trace insisted.

  Sonny mumbled something under his breath, obviously uncomfortable and not knowing what to say. Finally he said, “Look . . . we all made it out and that’s the most important thing. Doesn’t matter how or what it took.”

  Gracie and Meg looked from one man to the other, their eyes wide, not knowing what to say. Gracie noticed Meg’s eyes did well up, and she didn’t bother to hide it.

  After a couple of hours, Gracie insisted it was time to leave so Sonny could get home and put his leg up. He had therapy in the morning and then his first day back on restricted desk duty. Trace liked the way she seemed to be fussing over him and the two couples left together, saying their goodbyes in the crushed shell parking lot.

  On the way home, Meg looked over at him. “Well? What do you think?” she asked.

  “She’ll do,” Trace said as he grinned over at his wife. “What do you think?”

  “I think she’s great. She seems good for him. I just wish I knew what was going on under the surface.”

  “What do you mean?” Trace was baffled.

  “There’s something there. She seems damaged somehow, but it seems like she’s working hard to battle back.”

  “Really? Do you think he knows about whatever that is?” He was concerned about his friend getting bogged down with Gracie’s baggage when he had enough to deal with himself.

  “I think he does. He’s helping her through something. I just don’t know what it is. Or how serious it is.” She sighed. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. Make sure it’s nothing he can’t handle.”

  “Believe me, honey . . . there’s nothing he can’t handle. If I didn’t fully realize it before, I do now,” Trace said with conviction.

  Meg watched him drive for a while and wished he could tell her more about the missions they’d just come back from. Then again, maybe it was better she didn’t have all the details—for her own sanity.

  CHAPTER 11

  Shortly after eight thirty the next morning, Gracie stepped out of the San Francisco International Airport, her handbag over her shoulder and a rental car key in her hand. She’d booked the flight in the wee hours that morning after a spur of the moment decision. No one knew of her plans, but she felt compelled to be there. Her precious baby girl, Jolie, was there and she needed to be too.

  Two years ago to the day, Gracie had been in serious condition in the hospital. She missed the memorial service her family had held for Jolie. Memorial service was a misnomer, though, since the Laurent family had been robbed of any memories they could have made with little Jolie.

  Gracie had never been able to make herself visit the gravesite. She hadn’t felt strong enough—until now. She lay awake the night before thinking about it, and realized it was important to her to go. She didn’t want to let her family know, though. They would insist on meeting her there, or ask her to wait until they could all go together. This was something she needed to do on her own. She couldn’t really say why, except that something broken inside her seemed to be healing and she felt this was an important step to continue that healing. It would help her prove to herself that she could stand on her own two feet. She’d leaned on her family for too long.

  Gracie located her rental car in the lot and headed toward the cemetery. She knew exactly where it was, even though she’d never been inside the gates. She passed a large grocery store, then turned around to go inside, looking for a floral department. She left there with a small bouquet of peach miniature roses with baby’s breath, and continued on toward the cemetery.

  When she arrived there, she wove her way around the pretty shaded lanes toward the mausoleum where Jolie’s ashes rested with others’ loved ones. It was a wall of white granite, with small bronze plaques checker-boarding the face of it. There were statues of beautiful angels along the top of the wall, watching over those resting there. Gracie parked at the curb and walked over to scan the plaques.

  There it was . . . Jolie Laurent Chilton . . . Our Precious Angel. Gracie carefully placed the little roses in the vase attached to her plaque, then backed away until the backs of her legs hit the bench behind her. She dropped to the seat and let the tears come. They were silent tears—not great gulping sobs like she’d expected—but quiet and peaceful tears. She had no idea how long she sat there staring at her daughter’s name on that cold bronze plaque, listening to the birds. After the quiet tears stopped, she sat a while longer, looking around at the pretty setting of the grounds. She couldn’t see or hear the ocean from where she sat, but it must not have been too far away, because there were seagulls dancing across the sky. She tried not to imagine her little girl running along the beach, tossing bread crumbs for the gulls to catch, dark curls tumbling around her shoulders and the sun sparkling in her eyes. But she couldn’t help imagining that—and more.

  Then it hit her. Maybe Jolie was feeding the seagulls—God’s seagulls. Or maybe she was having a tea party . . . or dancing across the floor in a princess dress . . . or playing peek-a-boo with her heavenly Daddy. Jolie was happy. Gracie could feel it in her bones—a peace that could only come from a message God was sending her. She laughed—and prayed a prayer of praise to her God, who was not only taking care of Jolie . . . but was taking care of her, too.

  She walked back over to the plaque, kissed her fingertips and laid them over Jolie’s name. She realized when she was back in the car she’d sat there for two hours. It hadn’t seemed that long, but she still had a long wait for her flight that evening. She decided to drive to her old neighborhood.

  As Gracie drove slowly up her old street, she didn’t feel any anxiety. She didn’t really feel anything. It was just a place she used to live. She noticed her old next-door neighbor, Gabby, arms full of grocery bags, walking toward her front door. Gracie decided to stop the car, and then hurried up the sidewalk.

  “Gabby!” she called out.

  Gabby jerked her head around in surprise. “Gracie? Gracie!” She practically threw the bags down and ran toward her.

  Gracie threw her arms around Gabby’s neck and hugged her, laughing. “You’re still here!”

  “Yes! Oh, Gracie! If you only knew how often I think about you. How much I miss you!” She pulled back and held Gracie at arms length. “You look great!”

  “I just can’t believe you’re still here.” Gracie looked chagrined. “I guess it hasn’t really been that long though, huh? Just a couple of years.” She sighed. “Seems longer, though.”

  “You have to come in for a visit. Do you have time?”

  “Sure. My flight doesn’t leave ‘til this evening, so I have the whole day to fritter away.” Gracie stooped to help pick up the bags. “I hope you didn’t go out for eggs this morning,” she laughed.

  Gabby’s eyes welled up. “Gracie . . . you seem like the old Gracie . . .”

  “Getting there.”

  They took the groceries to Gabby’s kitchen and Gracie helped her put them away—like they’d done for each other so many times in the past. Gabby put a fresh pot of coffee on and they sat down at the kitchen table. “Your flight, huh? Where are you going, Gracie?”

  “I’m living in San Diego now. Moved there a couple of months ago.”

  “Oh, yeah? How do you like it?”

  “I’m liking it a lot. I’m singing with a house band in a bar—if you can believe it—and working at a daycare center part time.”

  “Wow! Sounds great.” Gabby stood up to pour the coffee. “Putting down roots?”

  “Don’t know about that yet, but getting settled anyway. Making friends.”

  “Oh, really? Any special friends?” Gabby teased.

  “Maybe. Too soon to tell,” Gracie blushed. Then she changed the subject. “How’s Steve?”

  “Steve is awesome. He has a big show coming up at one of the galleries on Geary Street. He�
��s working on that all night, and still teaching art at the high school all day. I have to hang out in his studio just to spend time with him.”

  Gracie laughed. “You’d rather watch him paint than do anything else, and you know it.”

  Gabby wiggled her eyebrows. “Almost anything else.”

  The two old friends talked and Gabby insisted Gracie stay for lunch. Around three-thirty they heard the front door open and Gabby rushed to intercept Steve, covered his eyes and marched him into the kitchen—which was something to see, because Steve was a big bear of a man and Gabby barely five feet tall.

  When she pulled her hands away, Gracie yelled, “Surprise!”

  “Gracie!” he cried and scooped her into his arms for a bear hug. “What’re you doing? Are you moving back to town?”

  “No. Just visiting. I’ve imposed on your wife for hours. I should get going.”

  “Can’t you stay?” Steve asked. “It’s so great to see you.” The last time he and Gabby had seen her she was being loaded into an ambulance, and even her two good friends couldn’t recognize her through the blood and swelling on her face.

  “You have work to do, I hear. Congratulations on the show, Steve. That’s great.” She squeezed his hand. “I really should get out of your hair.” She turned toward Gabby and hugged her. “I’m so glad I saw you walking up the sidewalk. I wouldn’t have stopped otherwise, and this has been so much fun—catching up.”

  Gracie didn’t get away for another hour and a half. Steve had talked her into coming up to his studio to check out some of the pieces he was working on for his exhibit. There were a couple of watercolor beachscapes that made Gracie think of Sonny.

  After she left, she drove over to the recording studio where she had worked and went inside to see if any of her old friends were still around. The music industry—at a local level—was a bit mercurial, and musicians came and went. Her old office manager, Pam, was still there—but had been promoted to business manager. She and Gracie chatted for a while, but Pam was on her way home for the day and Gracie didn’t want to keep her. She didn’t recognize anyone else, though. The studio was still owned by the same guy, but he was out of town, and Gracie hadn’t been very close to him anyway. The two sound engineers working hadn’t been there back when Gracie was, so she’d never met them. All in all, she didn’t spend too much time there before heading out.

  She turned her rental car toward the airport, planning to find a restaurant for dinner nearby, then to just wait around the airport until it was time to board her flight. Gracie found an Olive Garden and went in for a leisurely dinner, feeling peaceful and good about her trip to San Francisco. She was glad she had come and felt a lot stronger than she had as she lay awake the night before.

  Her flight left almost on time at nine thirty and she dozed through most of the hour and half flight. Since she hadn’t taken any luggage, she was able to breeze out of the airport to her car and head on home. She’d be home by midnight.

  CHAPTER 12

  Sonny was fit to be tied. If he didn’t have a gimpy leg, he’d have paced a hole in the floor. Where was she? What was going on?

  After his PT session that morning, he’d driven over to base and gotten to work. The rest of the team had come in—after taking the long weekend off—for their debriefings and to get all the paperwork started. It was great to be a part of the team again. They’d all gone over to the McDonald’s on base for lunch together, and back to work at their headquarters after that. Sonny didn’t even mind the boring paperwork.

  Around three o’clock, though, his pleasant day had gone to hell. His cell phone had rung and it was Mathias . . . looking for Gracie . . . worried about Gracie. Had Sonny talked to her? Seen her? Was she okay, or was she curled up in a ball somewhere crying her eyes out? Mathias—and his parents—hadn’t been able to reach her all day, and panic was setting in.

  What was going on? Sonny tried to get Mathias calmed down enough to explain why they would be so panicked. Maybe she was just busy this morning, out running errands. And she had to work at the daycare this afternoon, didn’t she? Sonny hadn’t talked to her, but had planned to talk to her this evening. He was sure she’d be checking in to see how his first day back at work had gone.

  But, no . . . Gracie wasn’t at work at the daycare center. She’d taken a personal day. And she wasn’t answering her cell phone . . . which wasn’t like her at all. Now Sonny’s panic was setting in too. He called Colby, but Colby hadn’t talked to her either. They didn’t have band practice on Monday nights, so he didn’t expect to see her. Neither Maggie or Savannah had heard from her. It was a long shot, but he even had Trace call to see if Meg had heard from her. They had, after all, been two peas in a pod when they were worried about Sonny the week before.

  Sonny was in a state, trying to remember if something had happened the day before that might have upset her. She was fine when he dropped her off at home after their date. He’d walked her to her door, kissed her goodnight, and she was . . . yes . . . she was smiling when she shut the door. The kiss was good—kind of steamy—but he hadn’t crossed any lines or taken advantage of her. Had he? No . . . she seemed fine when he left.

  He finally called Mathias back, told him that he couldn’t find anyone in San Diego who had spoken to her. What was going on? That’s when Mathias told Sonny the significance of the date. It was the second anniversary of her baby’s memorial service. A memorial service she hadn’t been able to attend, because that animal had hurt her so badly she’d still been in the hospital. His good knee buckled and he dropped into his desk chair, Trace and Charley hovering over him as they watched all the color drain from his face. Why hadn’t she told him?

  After Sonny hung up, Trace harassed him until he told them what was going on. Trace and Charley looked shocked when they heard about Gracie’s history and the way she had lost her baby just two short years before. Trace felt sick, but couldn’t think of what to do to help Sonny find her. When they left the office, Sonny’s friends insisted they would meet him at his place and figure something out. Trace called Meg on the way over and explained what was going on. She agreed to pick up dinner and bring it over for all of them.

  “See, Trace? I knew there was something! My, gosh . . . what kind of monster would do something like that to a sweet girl like Gracie?”

  “Calm down, baby. We just need to be calm and help him figure out what to do,” Trace soothed her.

  Trace and Charley were sitting in the parking lot for a good thirty minutes by the time Sonny pulled in.

  “Where have you been? You left before we did,” Charley stalked over to Sonny’s truck.

  He slid out wearily. “I went by her place and had the landlord go in to look around. I was afraid . . .” he choked off the words. He didn’t even want to think it. The three of them went on into his building and up to his apartment.

  Trace was appalled. “No way. She wouldn’t hurt herself, would she?”

  “I don’t think so. Everything looked fine. Nothing out of place or anything.” Sonny huffed out a breath. “He wouldn’t let me in to snoop around, though—privacy laws or something. Maybe we could find a clue if we could get in there.”

  “Oh, we can get in,” Charley drawled. “We’ve gotten in and out of more secure places without anyone even knowing we were there. Under the noses of much more dangerous people.”

  Sonny tried to smile. “I thought the exact same thing. Let’s give her a little more time. I don’t want her catching us there if all she’s been doing is taking a spa day or something.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just can’t figure out why she’s not answering her phone. That’s not like her.”

  Meg had walked in while Sonny was talking. She set several brown bags full of deli sandwiches and coleslaw on the table and joined the guys on the sectional. Sonny and Trace filled her in and they all put their heads together, trying to figure out what to do. Meg finally got them all to eat something and they waited, Sonny calling Gracie’s phone periodic
ally to leave yet another frantic message.

  Finally around ten o’clock, Mathias called back. He’d gotten a friend of his, who worked in law enforcement, to pull some strings and found a plane reservation in Gracie’s name to San Francisco this morning and one back to San Diego late this evening. It left them all scratching their heads, but at least they knew she’d made the morning flight, and could only assume she would the evening flight too.

  Bleary-eyed from worry, Sonny dragged his hands down his face and sighed. “I’m going over there. If her plane takes off on time, she should be back at her place around midnight.”

  The others offered to go along, but he sent them on home, thanking them for their support. He was so angry, he didn’t know what he’d say to her when he saw her. He also didn’t know what he’d do first—grab her up and hug her, or yell at her. Probably both at the same time.

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Gracie was tired, but it was a good, peaceful tired. She came down the hall toward her apartment and jumped when a shadowy figure stepped away from the corner at the end of the hall. It was Sonny. She started to smile at him, but then she got a good look at his face. It was Sonny, but then again, it wasn’t. He looked scary . . . angry scary.

  “Where the hell have you been?” He barked at her.

  Her back went up. “What is wrong with you?”

  “You’ve had people . . . people who love you . . . from coast to coast trying to get hold of you—all day. Now . . . where the hell have you been?” His voice rose dangerously at the end.

  He moved closer to her and she panicked, flinching back from him. As if she thought he might hit her.

  “Oh, my God . . .” he breathed. “Gracie . . . I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just frustrated. And I’m scared to death. This may have been the longest day of my life.”

  Gracie gulped and fumbled to unlock the door, leaving it open behind her so he could follow her in. “I . . . went to San Francisco. I had something I needed to do there.”