Return to Grace

by Bethany Surreira

  “I don’t even know anymore, Sara. I wanted to end it right there in Holly’s Diner, but I knew it would screw up both of our days. I have too much riding on this meeting to let myself fall apart now. I’ll text him later this afternoon and tell him we need to talk. I’m sure he’s feeling the same way, or at the very least, knows it’s coming.”

  “Oof, girl. I wouldn’t want to trade places with you! And I don’t even mind being a bitch to someone who deserves it. You’re on your own with this one, kid,” Sara teased, grabbing a manila folder from on top of her desk. “I’ve got a meeting with Cameron. Shouldn’t take long. If I don’t see you before your meeting, good luck with John. You’ve got this!”

  Sara strutted off to her meeting, and I sat down and got to work. After a few minutes, Casey buzzed my phone to let me know John and his team had arrived and were waiting for me. The moment of truth.

  4

  “Well, I guess that about wraps things up! It was a pleasure doing business with you, John. I hope our paths cross again soon,” I said with a warm smile, my hand extended toward him to shake on the completion of a long and fulfilling project. I had put my blood, sweat, and tears into helping John create a marketing plan for his Vermont ski lodge.

  “I’m certain they will, Leah.” John said. “Thank you again for all your support and dedication over the past six months. I’ll be singing your praises for years to come.” He picked his papers up off the table and stacked them nicely before shoving them back into his briefcase.

  The mahogany and glass boardroom tables brought a level of sophistication that could only be appreciated in a city as fine as New York. The New York City skyline wrapped around the entire eighteenth floor of World City Travel, New York’s premier travel agency. What a dream it was being able to enjoy this view while helping others live their own dreams.

  He walked out of the room with his burgundy briefcase tucked under the crook of his arm. His small group of associates followed closely, as if they feared they’d be stuck in the room once he closed the door.

  And just like that, the meeting was over, and I was brought back to reality. I had been working on this project for months, and it was nice to finally see the fruits of my labor.

  I looked over the large table and through the glass doors to the hallway that led to my cubicle. It wasn’t a fancy workstation, by any means, but it paid the bills, my student loans, and then some. It also meant I was employed by the largest and most popular travel agency in all of New York City. One day, I would have that coveted corner office.

  “You ready to head out to lunch, Leah?” Sara asked me, cutting my daydream short.

  “Yeah, let me just get my things and we’ll head out. I’ve got pizza on my mind!” I replied. “Shocking, I know!”

  Blowing an auburn curl away from my eyes, I made my way to my desk to turn off my laptop and grab my purse from the bottom drawer. My deep-blue fitted peacoat and scarf dangled from the arm of the chair, and my snow boots were snuggly tucked under the desk, begging me to put them on.

  We hailed a cab and zipped through the busy city streets, coming to a halt in front of my favorite pizza place. Coming here was like coming home, and although Sara always preferred sushi, it was my turn to choose. It was never a surprise since I always chose Giuseppe’s. Sara knew not to even suggest anything else.

  Giuseppe’s Pizza was a staple in New York City, and according to the pictures on the back of the menu, not much of the restaurant had changed since its doors first opened in the sixties. As soon as I opened the door, I was transported to Italy. The restaurant’s brick storefront matched the brick oven, and the interior walls made me feel like I was eating a slice of pizza on a stone sidewalk overlooking the canal in Venice. I paused for a brief moment to inhale the aroma of garlic, basil, and plum tomatoes. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into a slice or two.

  “Ahh, Leah! Always a pleasure seeing your beautiful smile! Come in, come in,” Giuseppe called from behind the counter, as he slathered sauce on one of his famous pizzas. His accent was still as strong as ever. He waved us over to my favorite table and called out to his grandson to take our order. Giuseppe had a soft spot for me and treated me as one of his own. We met during my freshman year at NYU when I used to come here to study. He lost his daughter to cancer when she was in her thirties, leaving behind her son who he then raised. Giuseppe often told me, and anyone else who would listen, how I had helped to fill the void of loneliness.

  “Hi, G,” I said, looking back at him with a giant smile and soft eyes. I made my way over to the table with Sara and accepted the menu from Giuseppe’s grandson, even though I already knew what I was going to get—two slices of his famous plum tomato pizza with extra pesto and a cup of pasta fagioli soup. Sara was just as predictable with her one slice of cheese and a side house salad.

  “Are you excited about the Portugal project?” Sara asked, dipping her bread into olive oil. She lightly dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin before she took the daintiest of sips from her water.

  “Excited? No. Nervous and anxious? Absolutely,” I said, pausing before I continued. “This is even bigger than the Vermont project, and considering I’ve never been out of the tri-state area, I don’t know how I’m even going to begin to plan this in a country thousands of miles away.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that at all. I’ve traveled all over the world. I can help you with the little details. It’s sorta my thing,” Sara told me, winking.

  “I know and I’m grateful,” I said, moving my hands to my lap so the waiter could put my pizza down.

  “I love how fast they are here,” Sara exclaimed, stabbing at her salad.

  I giggled at how forceful she was with a piece of lettuce. But she was right. This was the best place to come to for a quick bite that also hit the spot. I wanted to talk to her again about how I was feeling regarding Josh, but I didn’t want to start anything in a public place. I also wasn’t ready to admit that things weren’t as golden as I had been letting myself believe.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, knowing something was up.

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking. It’s fine, though. What are you up to this weekend? I know you have something fun planned.”

  I picked at a piece of my pizza crust and shoved it into my mouth. Maybe if I kept my mouth full, I wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. My plan worked and Sara started telling me this elaborate evening she had planned with some of her cousins. We finished lunch with just enough time to grab a latte and make it back to the office before the afternoon meetings would start.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Cameron said to us as he rounded the corner heading to the boardrooms. “I’ll see you both in about twenty minutes, I presume?”

  “Yes,” we said in unison and hurried to our desks. Just as I was about to unlock my drawer, my cell phone flashed, indicating I had three missed calls and one new voicemail. I didn’t know how I had missed them while we were out. My personal phone rarely had that many missed calls, so I knew something was up. I hit the notification for the voicemail and pressed play.

  “Hi, pumpkin, it’s Daddy. I know you’re busy with your job, but please give me a call as soon as you can. I love you.”

  I couldn’t remember the last time he left me a message, but his shaky voice had me stopping and staring blankly at Sara.

  “Hey, Sara, I have to go return this call, but I’ll see you in the meeting,” I said, walking toward the empty boardroom across from the one Cameron just entered.

  I sat in the corner furthest from the door so no one could see me, then called my dad back. I didn’t know what to expect to come out of the other end of the phone, but I figured sitting down was probably a good choice.

  My dad picked up on the first ring, and I jumped right into the call.

  “Dad, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, Leah. It’s your mom,” he said softly. “She was in a really bad wreck this morning, and… I’m so sorry,
love. She didn’t make it.”

  “What? Oh my gosh, Dad,” I exclaimed, my body going numb. I was grateful I was sitting down.

  “The other car crossed over the median and hit her head on,” he said, his voice breaking. He paused, trying to compose himself. “The police are waiting for the witness reports to figure out what exactly happened. I didn’t want to have you find out this way, but I thought you needed to know sooner rather than later.”

  “Dad, I’ll be on the first train out tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry.”

  “Ok, pumpkin.” His voice wavered and I could tell he was fighting back tears. “I’ll talk to you tonight. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad,” I said and hung up the phone.

  I sat there for a while—I didn’t even know how long—looking out the window in a daze. What the hell was happening? First, the terrible breakfast with Josh, then the best moment of my career thus far, and now this. My day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and I was so overwhelmed by them that I couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of how to feel.

  I walked quietly back to my desk, hoping not to draw any attention to myself. I slowly sat down in my chair, trying to comprehend the conversation I just had. My relationship with my mother could only be described as strained, and I hadn’t spoken to her in over seven years. If this phone call came before our falling out, I would have lost my mind in that office. But my mother and I didn’t have the typical mother-daughter relationship, and I wasn’t sure how to handle whatever it was that I was feeling. Guilt? Confusion?

  “You okay, girl?” Sara asked on her way to the meeting. “You look like someone died.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied, not realizing that everyone was already either at the meeting or on their way. “Sorry about that. That was my Dad. He wants to know if I can come home for Christmas this year.”

  I sunk deeper into my chair and hoped I would disappear. Thoughts of my mother swirled through my mind and I was frozen. Sara placed her hand gently on my shoulder and looked me square in the eyes. This was one of the only times I wished she didn’t know me as well as she did.

  “Leah, honey, what’s really going on?” Sara asked worriedly. “I get that you don’t like to go home too often, but I’ve never seen you react to a message from your dad like that.” She looked hard at me, showing me I couldn't get out of this conversation.

  I stared at her for a moment before I opened my mouth and inhaled a deep breath. The news from my dad was real, even though I struggled to wrap my mind around it. My mom was really gone, and I never had the chance to reconcile with her. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen.

  “My mom died,” I blurted out. “I don’t know what happened, but I need to go home for the funeral and to see my dad.” I silently pleaded with her to stop the conversation right then and there. Saying it out loud made it all feel too real.

  “Oh my gosh, Leah!” Sara responded. Her face softened and tears gently filled her eyes. “When are you leaving? How long will you be gone? What do you need me to do? I’ll handle Cameron. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Cameron—the boss from hell. Well, that’s not fair to say. He was a decent boss, but he wasn’t typically okay with staff taking time off around holidays, bereavement purposes or not. The last time I took time off was to move from one apartment to the other. I only took one day off in the middle of the summer, and I had to make up for it by working the entire weekend after.

  I shook my head and raised my shoulders. We stood in silence for a minute before one of the interns popped his head out and told us they were ready to start. Sara gave a quick nod and turned back to me, hugging me tightly. It was exactly what I needed.

  “Thanks for being you, Sara. I really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, well, what can I say? That’s what I do.” Sara smiled and winked.

  “You go ahead and go to the meeting. I need to leave. I’m gonna walk around for a bit before going back to my apartment to pack,” I told her.

  “Walk around for a bit? It’s twenty degrees out! You’ll freeze that little behind off!”

  I needed that, too.

  “I’ll be fine. I love the smell of snow on the horizon.”

  “Do you want me to tell Cameron you went home sick?” Sara offered.

  “Yeah, thanks. Just let him know I’ll shoot him an email later, and I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I love you.” I hugged her again, not wanting to let go.

  “Love you, too, girl! Call me when you’re ready to talk more. And have a safe trip back to your dad. Give him my best.”

  I quickly gathered my things and left as fast as I could.

  5

  “Hope you’re staying nice and toasty,” I said to Walter when I finally made it back to my building.

  “Hangin’ in there, little lady. Everything all right, though? You’re home early today,” he replied. Man, he noticed everything.

  “I took a half-day. I’m heading out tomorrow to see my dad for Christmas, so I wanted to get a start on packing,” I explained.

  “Well, let me know if you need me to carry anything down for you. You know how to reach me.” His smile warmed the foyer as he held the door open for me.

  “You’re the best, Walter. Thank you so much.”

  In true New York fashion, my apartment was tiny but cute. A small foyer opened up into the living room, where I had set the back left corner up as an office. My desk faced the balcony and overlooked a park. Whenever I worked from home, I loved to sit here and people watch.

  A large flat screen TV hung above a gas fireplace, centered between two sconce lights. The couches were the lightest shade of brown I could find, and I added pops of yellow, orange, and green with the throw pillows and an afghan. An oval, tufted ottoman sat in the center of the room with a stack of books on top. Large paintings lined the walls, almost covering them floor to ceiling. Sara had picked them out. The right back corner of the living room was home to a quaint dining area, since the kitchen was too small to do anything but cook in.

  A bedroom, bathroom, and small laundry area were to the left of the living room. Much like the living room, my bedroom had the same calm and serene feel that comforted me after a long day of work. An ivory and lavender quilt folded up at the end of the bed was the perfect touch to the light lavender curtains that lined the back wall of windows. A dresser sat across from my bed, and matching nightstands completed the set.

  I dropped my keys into the wooden bowl that sat on the console table to the right of the front door. The bowl was a housewarming present from my dad, but it had my mother written all over it. I wondered if this would be my new norm; if everything would remind me of her.

  I went into the kitchen and made myself a cappuccino. Much like pancakes, there wasn’t much a hot cup of joe couldn’t make better, so if I had to pack for my mother’s funeral, I could at least enjoy a hot beverage while doing so.

  Packing was the bane of my existence. How did I even pack for a trip when my plans included a wake, a funeral, and a Christmas tree? Not to mention that, regardless of the funeral, there was a Christmas Festival held every year, rain or shine. I could only imagine how the next week was going to play out.

  “Okay, underwear, socks, jeans, black dress, shawl, and, oh!” I said out loud to myself, as I picked up a bright red peplum-style sweater and held it against my chest. Mom would have loved this.

  “Into the suitcase you go,” I said and shoved my suitcase aside, vowing to not get emotional. I had no idea how to feel.

  My train wasn’t set to leave until mid-morning the next day, so I decided to enjoy the last few hours of the night before I headed off to the station to go home. Home. What an odd title for a place you haven’t been to in seven years. I couldn’t help but wonder what was waiting for me back in Grace Valley.

  I assumed the town hadn’t changed all that much, but surely there were new families. Did the O’Connors still live next door? Was my parents’ old, creaky porch swing still ha
nging, waiting to soothe me to sleep like it had on the most restless nights of my youth?

  And Gnocchi, the old fur ball, was probably still purring all over the place; snuggled up on Dad, having completely forgotten about me. Serves me right for not bringing him to the city with me after college. He was the one I missed the most. Aside from dad, of course, but at least I was able to see him often.

  And then there was Caleb, a ghost from my past. Even though I hadn’t seen him in seven years, he was always there in the back of my mind. At this point, I wasn’t sure any man would ever compare to him. It suddenly dawned on me that Josh never even stood a chance. Not with Caleb still haunting me.

  My thoughts came to an abrupt halt when my phone rang. Dad. Surprised to find myself fighting back tears, I pressed the answer button on my phone. A single tear rolled down my cheek, but I quickly brushed it away. It was my father who needed me right now, not some distant memory.

  “Hi, Daddy, how are you holding up?” I asked.

  “I’ll be better once you’re home and in my arms again, pumpkin. I’ve missed you so much,” he responded. The way his voice hung to every word let me know that he was trying desperately to appear more at ease than he really was. “Your message said your train arrives at one forty-five. I’ll be there waiting for you.”

  After confirming all the travel arrangements, I reluctantly hung up. Oh, Dad, you don’t always have to be so strong. I wished he would just allow himself some time to cry and let his feelings show. I feared my father was trying to be strong for me, and I knew I needed to make sure he didn’t carry this burden alone.

  I glanced over to a picture I kept of me and my parents from the Fourth of July carnival in Grace Valley. My dad’s arm was draped over my shoulder while my mom’s head was tilted so it touched mine. We were always together like that, the three musketeers. It was taken the summer before my senior year of high school, when everything was still normal between us. The calm before the storm, as my father had always referred to the massive blowout that occurred just months later.