Saving Grace (What Doesn’t Kill You, #1): A Katie Romantic Mystery

by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

Chapter Twenty-four

  My phone rang again. Dallas this time. Emily. I could be a switchboard operator for old Ma Bell at this rate.

  I showed Collin the caller ID. He sighed. I wasn’t giving him the best birthday of his life. I pressed Speaker to answer the call.

  “Hey, girl. Just checking on you,” Emily said before I even spoke.

  I checked on myself for her and found that I was shockingly improved from earlier. “I’m better, Collin’s his usual self, and we’re having a floor picnic. I was about to send him out to pick up his birthday cake.”

  “Rich is at a long dinner thing. He took the car,” Emily said. “But I want birthday cake.” She and Rich shared a vehicle. His office was a block from their condo, so most of the time he made do on foot or by mass transit.

  “I’ll come get you,” Collin said. Collin had a soft spot for Emily, and I knew he secretly hated that she’d married Rich Bernal long before Collin ever met her.

  Serendipity. I needed to tell both of them about my rather sudden change of heart and plans as soon as possible. “Do you mind if I wait here?” I asked Collin.

  “I’m just your beast of burden,” he said, but he was halfway to the door, and his voice was light.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “ I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” he said. “You can tell me what the hell is going on then.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” I said, as if none of it was any big deal.

  As soon as he was gone, I jumped up and paced around the living room. I collapsed back onto the couch. My head was spinning at the speed of my life in Dallas, but my heart beat with longing for a St. Marcos pace. I put my head in my hands and began to laugh, finally throwing my head back and letting my mirth resound to the heavens. Holy shit. I was doing this.

  Well, an announcement of this magnitude took planning. I didn’t have much time left before Collin and Emily would arrive. I would not panic. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. I wrote:

  Do Not Drink.

  I underlined it twice. Bloody Marys screamed my name. Getting schnockered and forgetting about this abortion of a trial sounded awesome. But I needed my wits about me.

  I wrote again.

  Call Ava And Rashidi

  I needed local help. Ava would for sure, and Rashidi had offered, after all, sort of. Was it OK to impose upon him? I would call them first thing tomorrow.

  I wrote one more:

  Do Not Call Nick.

  No matter how nice—and surprising—his message was, it wasn’t a proposal of marriage. I could not contact Nick. I knew if I did, if I answered that email, if I stepped through that door, I wouldn’t be able to walk back out again. I had to get away from this life and how badly I’d screwed it up, how I’d humiliated myself and everyone I cared about. I was done here. I read his email five more times, then deleted it, which hurt like carving the damn thing out of my heart with a spoon, but I did it.

  Fifteen minutes and many cleansing breaths later, everything started to feel right. Astounding, really. Maybe it was normal to have a freak-out in the midst of big life-changing decisions. That didn’t mean this decision wasn’t the best thing that could ever happen to me.

  I listed the positives of moving. The people I cared about would come to visit me. Probably. When the house was done, I could be a lawyer right on St. Marcos. If I had to. I could find a new career, possibly, or maybe I could sell the house for a huge profit when it was ready. I would have a year-round tan. I wouldn’t drink as much, and I wouldn’t think about Nick, except occasionally. I would never see Zane McMillan again. Can someone give me an amen? I would spend less money on clothes, shoes, handbags, makeup, and jewelry.

  Wait, that wasn’t a positive. I scratched it off the list.

  Most people would kill to be in my shoes, moving to the Caribbean on a semi-permanent sabbatical. I was a courageous risk-taking adventurer and I would have no regrets. I closed my eyes and conjured Annalise. I was so doing this.

  Collin and Emily returned with a Baskin-Robbins cookies-and-cream ice cream cake and birthday candles. Emily and I stuck them in the cake, lit them, and sang while Collin blew them out. I served the cake, then broke the news while their mouths were full.

  “Repeat all that slowly, sis.” Collin was calm, but looking at me as if he needed to call in the white coats.

  Emily didn’t say anything. She just stared at me from her perch on my overstuffed peach armchair a million miles across the living room. She looked hurt.

  “I fell in love with St. Marcos, and I bought a house. Well, I didn’t know I’d bought a house. I made an offer, and I didn’t think they would accept it, but they did. I’m quitting my job and moving there in two weeks. I’m going to do a few renovations—” I had my fingers crossed, so this was not a lie, “then practice law on the island.” This part was. I was tempted to speak loudly and draw my words out longer, since this was seeming hard for them to process, but I thought better of it. I was delivering them a game changer. “I’m excited, and I wanted to tell you guys first. After today, you’ve got to admit that I need a total life makeover.”

  They turned to each other, twin images of dismay. They didn’t speak. Now did not seem the appropriate time to disclose that the house “spoke” to me. I’d left out that my realtor didn’t think it was a safe place for a woman to live alone. I also omitted that I took inexplicable comfort from the house’s nearness to where Mom and Dad died. And I sure hadn’t told them that it would take a year and another half a million to finish the house. I felt the first reemergence of the confident and strong Katie that had been hiding from the world for the last month.

  When they did start to speak, I agreed to “think about it carefully” and “not rush into anything.” Not that I intended to think or slow down. I only needed them to know my decision. I was a grown-up, and I didn’t need their approval. But I wanted to make them feel better about it. I would no more change their minds than they would mine. I needed to get to work, not argue with Collin and Emily about the inevitable.

  “And all this happened since I got here tonight?” Collin asked.

  “No. It all happened since I went to St. Marcos. But I got the call tonight telling me my dreams were coming true. All since you got here.”

  Emily nodded, but Collin just stared through me. I waited for more questions, but there were none. Really, there was nothing more left to say.

  ~~~