Chapter 43 Grace
GRACE
Strawberry Springs Neighborhood Watch
Kerry Winsor: @Grace Day, did you get a weird text from Brooke? She wants me to go to some concert in Nashville.
Comments:
Marjorie Brown: You got that too? I thought she’d lost her mind. Who would invite ME to a concert?
Tammy Jane: I got it too. I don’t even like the girl. I bet it’s one of those scams.
Mollie Wilson: How did she even get my number???
We wound up at an Indian restaurant in the bottom of a hotel. Dean had mentioned that Nashville was known for its hot chicken, but the idea of fried food nearly made me sick, so he pivoted.
It was a fantastic choice considering how delicious the naan alone was. The curry was even better, and I got to try two different kinds since Dean was willing to share. We weren’t able to stay too long, but it was nice to fill up on something good before seeing Brooke.
The drive to the bar was short, and I grew nervous as we got close. I wasn’t sure why, since she’d been the one to invite me to this, after all. Why would she be anything but happy to see me?
“Say the word and we’ll leave,” Dean said lowly. “And if she hurts you, you’re leaving anyway.”
I wished I could say that she wouldn’t hurt me, but this was Brooke we were talking about. Anything was possible with her.
“Okay,” I said. “Fair enough.”
He nodded and got out of the truck to open the door for me.
If I thought Nashville was loud, a bar in Nashville was even louder. It hit me like a train the second we walked in. Someone was singing a country song on stage, and the speakers were at max volume. Despite that, people were still talking. And yelling.
I found a corner to get us into that wasn’t packed with people. I hoped it wouldn’t be as loud, but it was. The baby moved. I wondered if they hated this too.
Still, I’d been invited, and I searched the bar for my sister. She was in the front row wearing another pink cowboy hat.
Was she nervous? I would be if I were in her shoes.
We’d gotten to the bar just in time. As the first singer was done, everyone erupted in cheers. Brooke stood and rushed on stage. She had a guitar in hand and waved at everyone.
“Hi, y’all! Welcome to the sing off.”
She didn’t even sound like herself. She sounded like all the other country singers from Nashville. Her drawl was exaggerated and syrupy. And not to mention, it was very fake.
“I’m Brooke Day and I’ll be singing an original for you.
” She strummed a note on the guitar. “I want to dedicate this to the one who shows up. The person who’s been here from the beginning.
” I nearly froze. Was she actually about to dedicate this to .
. . me? “Jude, I know you’re out there. This one’s for you! ”
My hope crashed. She was talking about Jude. Of course she was. My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Dean’s hand slid into mine and he raised an eyebrow, a silent offer to leave.
I shook my head and faced the front.
Brooke started playing. I was no music expert, but I could hear a difference between Brooke’s performance and the one before it. She’d improved since her days in the shower, but I wasn’t sure how she stacked up against all of the other incredible performers in Nashville.
Judging by Dean’s wince, he heard it too. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything bad about the performance. Unfortunately, there was nothing good to say either.
When her song was over, most people clapped, but I saw the whispering going on. We weren’t the only ones who’d noticed she’d been a little off-key.
“I’m gonna go say hi,” I said to Dean as she got off the stage. Brooke was talking with someone I didn’t recognize, but her eyes flicked to me and she did a double take.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when she saw me.
I jerked back. “You invited me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I did? Huh. Maybe I did.” She shrugged as if it were nothing. “You’re huge, by the way.”
Dean must have been behind me. He cleared his throat and shook his head. Brooke took no notice. I wasn’t sure what to say. My hope had fallen when she dedicated the song to Jude. Now it was crushed.
“Anyway, I need to mingle. Hope you enjoyed!” She ran off with a wave, not taking a second look at me.
“Wow,” Dean said, his voice tight. “That was . . . something.”
“Let’s go,” I said, trying to not let my voice crack. “It’s way too loud in here.”
Dean tugged me out of the bar, and in the warm air, I finally felt how hot my cheeks had gotten. Brooke had completely dismissed me, and the act hurt more than I wanted to let on.
But one thought was louder than the rest of them. I’d given Brooke so many chances and she let me down each time.
I was so tired.
“Grace,” Dean said.
“Can we not right now?”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You should be telling me that we shouldn’t have come. And you’d be right.”
“I’m not gonna do that.”
“You should.”
He grabbed my hand. “She’s your sister. Your last family. It isn’t a bad thing that you’re trying with her. She’s the one who doesn’t deserve it.”
I closed my eyes and took a breath. I refused to cry on the streets of Nashville. “I don’t understand how she can only care about herself. I couldn’t imagine treating people like she does.”
“Of course you can’t imagine it. You’re kind. That’s one of your best qualities.”
I needed to hear that. I needed comfort instead of punishment. I leaned into Dean’s warm, solid body and let my emotions wash over me.
“Can we go back to your apartment?” I asked. “It would be nice to have a night in.”
“Whatever you want.”
I was quiet on the way back, but it helped to think through all that Brooke had done to me. I’d continued to give her passes and let her hurt me. All for the sake of family.
But I didn’t seem like family to her tonight. Just another inconvenience.
When had I become that to her?
I still felt down when he pulled into his place. We took the stairs slowly, stopping at the second flight.
“Need another ride?” he offered.
“No, but thank you. I want to master these myself.” I heaved out a breath. “After I catch my breath, though.”
He laughed and leaned on the wall.
Someone else came down the stairs, a woman with blonde hair in a high ponytail. She was in athletic wear and absolutely beautiful.
“Dean!” she exclaimed. “God, it’s been forever since I last saw you.”
His shoulders went tense. “Oh, hi.”
I had a feeling I knew where this was going. Dean’s past wasn’t a mystery to me. I knew he’d slept around, and most of the time, it didn’t bother me.
But while I was facing this beautiful human, a thought hit me hard. One that I’d worked on not having in years.
Why the hell was he with me when he could have women like that?
I always tried my best not to be insecure, but my body was changing in ways I was never ready for. I was at my highest weight, and every day, I saw a new stretch mark on my stomach, legs, or boobs.
As much as I wished I would never feel insecure again, it was a lie. I’d loved my body before pregnancy. Eventually, I would love these changes the same way, but that took time. And I was in a delicate place after seeing Brooke. Especially after the only thing she said about me was that I was huge.
I’d face this. I’d love my body and try my best to never feel this again.
But not until tomorrow.
The woman’s eyes drifted to me, and then to my stomach.
“Oh, do you need help?” she asked. “Dean’s always great about that.”
“She’s my girlfriend,” he said firmly.
Her eyes widened, then turned downward. “But you told me you didn’t date when we . . .”
“Things changed.”
She looked in between us, as if wondering how and why.
I wanted to melt into the floor. I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I gave her a polite nod and booked it up the rest of the stairs. I was out of breath, but at least I was alone and could think.
My feelings were already bruised. The woman was undoubtedly jealous. None of that was my fault.
But it all felt terrible.
“Grace, hang on. Take it easy!”
“I’m fine.” My voice was harsher than I’d ever let it get. “Just give me a second.” I needed my logic to come back to me. But looking at Dean, beautiful, perfect Dean . . . it hurt.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s in the past.”
“I’m trying not to. I just feel . . . a lot right now.” Was it my changing body? Probably. Did I sometimes wonder why Dean had chosen me of all people? Yes, on bad days. “Seeing a past fling of yours didn’t help. I have a feeling she would’ve liked to pick up right where you left off.”
“I’m yours,” he said, grabbing my hand. “No matter what happens.”
“I know. I promise I believe that. I’m just having an off day.”
“Come inside.” Once the door was shut, he grabbed a pen and handed it to me. “Write your name.”
“What are you—”
“Grace, listen.” His words were firm. “I want you to know there’s no other woman for me. So, write your name.”
“Like, on your hand?”
His lips twisted as he considered it and then shook his head.
Then he pulled his shirt off.
“On my chest.”
Dean being shirtless always had my heart racing, but this was a new level. “Why?” I asked softly.
“Because I know how I feel, but I want you to see it too.”
My cheeks burned. I never thought of myself as being the kind of woman who wanted to mark a man. But I wanted to see my name there. I needed this reminder.
Slowly and with a shaky hand, I wrote my name. When I stepped back to survey it, my name looked like it belonged.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“We can write it again any time you need the reminder.”
“I’m trying not to be insecure,” I said. “And normally I’m not, but everything is changing so fast, and some days it’s hard to stay confident.”
“What’s changing?”
“I’m gaining weight, obviously.”
“You’re still beautiful, no matter what weight you’re at.” His words echoed a lesson I’d had to teach myself a long time ago, and I needed the reminder.
A long time ago, I’d accepted my weight would change. Now there were new things to work on accepting.
“And then there’s the stretch marks.”
“Show me.”
My cheeks went hot. “I’d rather not.”
“Grace, you’re always gonna be beautiful to me. Whether you have stretch marks or not. And I’ll prove it to you.”
I took a breath and I lifted my shirt. Dean fell to his knees, fingers gently running over the marks I was still learning to love.
“Beautiful,” he said.
“You don’t have to—”
“No, it is. All of it is. It’s a reminder that you’re growing our child, Grace. And you’re doing it so well.”
I grew warm. “You really don’t hate them?”
“No, I love them. Just like I love—” His eyes flicked up to mine, and his throat worked as he struggled with whatever he wanted to say.
I knew what it was, and while I wanted nothing more than to hear those words, I knew why they were terrifying for him.
Reaching down, I cupped his cheek. “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”
I could wait however long he needed to. It could be minutes or months, but I knew.
He closed his eyes to get his thoughts together. When he opened them, they were shiny. “I love you. A lot, actually, and you don’t have to say it back—”
“Dean, I love you too. Now get up here and kiss me.”
He didn’t waste any time. My emotions still felt sore in ways only time could heal, but this was a moment I’d always remember.
Warmth and love covered all of it like a Band-Aid. I was still emotionally hurting, but it felt easier to take now. This was exactly what I’d wanted when I told him I wanted us to deal with our problems together.
This was what love was.
I pulled away, fighting a yawn.
“Bedtime?” he asked. “It’s been a long day.”
“I should head in that direction. I just wonder why Brooke acted like she didn’t invite me. You saw the text.”
“She probably just wanted one more supporter.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if logic applies to her.”
I blew out a breath and took out my phone. It had been on silent throughout the night, but I did have a tag from the Neighborhood Watch group. I opened up the notification and my jaw dropped when I read it.
“It was a fucking mass text.” I showed him the post. “Everyone got it.”
“Are you kidding me?” he asked.
“It must have been a marketing thing.”
Dean shook his head, jaw locked tight. It matched how I felt. I was starting to hate Brooke. Maybe I should have felt like this a long time ago.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go home. Mom could come and get you and you could still take time away from the shop.”
It was tempting, but I shook my head. “No. Fuck that. I wanna enjoy Nashville and get time with you. I’m having fun tomorrow. She doesn’t get a say in that.”
“That’s my girl.”
“And I’m unsubscribing from her stupid text chain.” When it was done, Dean was smiling softly at me.
“Feel better?”
“I do, and now it’s time to finish cleaning your apartment and have fun.” I wanted to start tonight, but I broke out into another yawn.
“Tomorrow?”
I sighed. “Yeah, we’ll start tomorrow. Who knew growing a child would be so exhausting?”