Looking for Love

by Linda Mayes

CHAPTER 5

  The next day Grace didn’t have to go into work. Louise brought the kids home early and they talked on and on about what a great time they’d had at the Harwell’s the night before. Grace made them all brunch, and as they were sitting down to eat croissants and fruit, Maggie came out of her room, dressed for work. She said good morning to Grace and the kids and then picked up her purse and keys.

  “Grandma, aren’t you gonna have some crow-sants with us?” Lucy asked her.

  Maggie hesitated. Grace was certain that she would decline and go ahead and leave for work, but once again her mother surprised her. She set down her purse and said, “What the heck, I own the place.” She took a seat at the table next to Lucy and helped herself to a croissant and cantaloupe. “How was your night?” she asked the kids as she ate.

  They all started talking at once, telling Maggie about their night of movies, popcorn and hot chocolate. When Lucy and Brock took a breath, Macy told them about taking an early morning ride with John on Satan.

  “He took you out on Satan?” Grace asked.

  “Yes, it was so much fun, we went real fast,” Macy said.

  “I don’t know if that was such a good idea.”

  “Why?” Macy asked, looking disappointed that her mother wasn’t as excited as she was about her news.

  “Satan used to be a wild horse. John’s the only one who ever rides him. I just don’t know if it’s safe.”

  “You rode on him,” Macy said, looking at her accusingly.

  Maggie cleared her throat. “Grace, if you don’t mind my saying so, John’s a very responsible man. I don’t think he’d let the child do anything that wasn’t safe.”

  Grace looked at her mother and then back at her daughter’s disappointed face. “It is pretty cool when he goes really fast isn’t it?” Grace smiled conspiratorially at her daughter.

  Macy grinned back. “Yes, it’s so cool!”

  Maggie smiled and they finished their brunch while the two little ones took over the conversation again. When they had finished eating, Maggie excused herself. “I guess I better get on now. Thank you, Grace, for the breakfast.”

  Grace surprised her mother by giving her a hug. She could feel Maggie tense at first, but then she lifted an arm and patted her daughter on the back once before pulling away. “Thank you, Mom, for staying and having it with us.” They looked at each other for a moment, both of them with so much to say, but as usual, unable to find the words.

  “Ya’ll enjoy your day off,” Maggie said before heading out the door.

  After Maggie left, Grace cleaned up the kitchen and the kids went out to play. After she was finished in the kitchen, she straightened up the rest of the house. Finding the quilt that Maggie and Macy had been working on lying over the chair in the living room, she decided to put it away, not wanting it to get torn or dirty. She carried it to Maggie’s room, and as she hung it across the quilt rack, she noticed a stack of photo albums in the corner next to Maggie’s night stand.

  No, Grace. You have to stop invading your mother’s privacy, she told herself. She put the quilt in its place and went back to her cleaning. The kids came in for lunch and she watched a movie with Lucy and Brock until they fell asleep. She covered them with an afghan on the couch and went to look for Macy. She found her curled up, asleep, on her bed. She smiled. They must have had a really late night. As she covered Macy, she thought about the quilt again, and the stack of photo books. She convinced herself that looking at photo albums was not an invasion of privacy, and sneaking into Maggie’s room like a thief, she took a seat on the floor and picked up the top one.

  She opened it to a photo of her dad. He was probably in his early twenties. He had the eighties hair going on and it made Grace smile. The next page was a picture of her mom and dad together. Maggie’s belly was swelled to probably six months pregnant and they both looked so happy. The next few pages were pictures of Grace at birth, her first birthday and her second. A picture of her and her father on one of their horse rides caught her eye. She wished those memories weren’t such good ones sometimes, so she could really hate him for leaving.

  She finished the first book and picked up the next. When she opened that one, she was surprised to see that it was some other type of book wrapped in a photo album cover. It was another journal. Grace only hesitated a second before opening it. She was afraid she would talk herself out of it.

  The first page, written in Maggie’s hand said, Well, it’s done. I told Sam that I was pregnant. I stayed up many nights wrestling with this one, and praying over it. I asked God to give me a sign about what was right. As I was asking, a white dove landed on my windowsill. I ain’t never seen a white dove before, so I took it as a sign. I went into town and I called and told him. He was so happy about it; I could hardly stand myself afterwards. He actually cried, and said that he hoped it was a girl. He had a name for her already. He said he wanted to name her Grace because that was what he loved the most about me—my grace.

  I prayed to the Lord to forgive me. I hope he does.

  Grace closed the book. She was afraid to read further. She told herself that she didn’t really know what any of it meant, but didn’t she? Why would Maggie pray for forgiveness, and feel bad that Sam was so excited if the baby had really been his. She took a deep breath and told herself that the only way to really know was to read it in Maggie’s own words. She opened the journal back up and read on.

  The baby started kicking today. Sam was so excited that I could hardly get him to let go of my belly. He loves our baby so much, and she’s not even here yet. Me and her, or him, are so lucky to have Sam. I hope the baby realizes that when he or she is old enough, my daddy was so wrong. Sam is an amazing man. Sometimes I wonder if he wouldn’t stay with us, and love us just the same if I were to tell him the truth.

  The next few pages were more of the same. Maggie often mentioned telling Sam the truth, but she never said what the truth was. The dates on the pages stopped a few weeks before Grace was born, and didn’t re-start until she was a few months old.

  I haven’t had time to write for a while. The baby is here, and she’s a girl. We named her Grace and Sam is crazy for her. She is a pretty little thing. Sam mentioned a few times how she didn’t look like either of us, but I told him she probably got her curly hair from my mom. Mama and Daddy haven’t been out to see her yet. It might be best if they don’t for a while. Even though I love her and she is a pretty thing, she looks so much like. . .him. I’m afraid sometimes that someone who knows him will notice. Sam talks about taking her back to Montana so that my friends and family can see her, but I don’t want to go back there, not as long as he is alive.

  “Mama?” Grace almost didn’t process the sound of her son’s sleepy voice, she was so engrossed in the story of her life that was unfolding on the pages in front of her. Brock said her name again and at last she put the book down and turned around.

  “Hi baby, how was the nap.” She tried to sound normal.

  “It was good, Mama. What are you doing in Gramma’s room?”

  “I was just straightening it up for her,” Grace said, getting off the floor. She put the books back as she had found them and went over to Brock. She picked him up and kissed his chunky cheeks. “How about some chocolate chip cookies for a snack?”

  That was all it took to get Brock’s mind off of finding her in Maggie’s room. She took him out to the kitchen and got him two big cookies out of the cookie jar. As she was pouring him some milk, Lucy and Macy both came in. She sat down with her kids and they all had a snack and talked about the fact that school would be starting soon. Macy asked if they could go to the city to get her some school clothes. Grace laughed and told her they would go to Great Falls and make a day of it. She told them about the park and they all got excited. It was enough to at least put what she had read to the back of her mind, if not enough to make her forget it.