Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sometimes, a simple kindness can go a long way in repairing an old wound. So how about we be nice to each other, people, huh?” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.
“So how’s it going?” Gemma asked.
Gracie was sitting on the side of Gemma’s bed, flipping through a Babies“R”Us catalog. It was Saturday, and Mike and Gracie had come over to stay with Gemma while Travis was at the bookstore and Charlie was sledding with some friends. Gracie’s mom had gone to Boise to visit Gemma’s mom for the weekend and Gracie’s dad was at his buddy’s cabin, catching up. Which had given Gracie more incentive to ignore Eric. She got her bed back for a few nights.
“With?” Gracie knew very well what Gemma was asking about, but she had no interest in talking about what was going on with Eric…mostly because she was too confused to suss out the situation herself.
Gemma blew out a heavy breath. “With life. With Eric. You two seemed happy according to all reports, and then that Miss Know-It-All column came out and Callie and Ryan said the two of you seem to be avoiding each other.”
Gracie concentrated really hard on an adorable Pack ’n Play with bumble bees on the page, instead of meeting her best friend’s gaze. “We’re fine.” She slapped the magazine down and yelled for Mike, who was in the kitchen supposedly making them food. “Mike! How long does it take to make a freaking sandwich?”
“Don’t rush me, this is art!” he hollered back.
Gracie snorted. “He is more of a girl than me sometimes.”
“Yeah, we’re all aware of Mike’s anal retentiveness when it comes to sandwich prep. But back to you and Eric.”
“We’re fine, Gem, I already told you.”
Gemma gave her a disbelieving look. “Really? No issues whatsoever?”
“Nope.”
“Good, good. I’m glad you two are working out, ’cause I guess Kirsten was staring at Eric like I stared at chocolate cake last night.”
Gracie’s head whipped around. “And how do you know that?”
“Travis went to Buck’s last night with Chase and Gabe. You know how men gossip.”
Although her stomach was grinding and churning in irritation, she refused to play Gemma’s game. “Well, it’s not like we’re actually together or anything. I told you, we were just faking it. He can do what he wants.”
Gemma burst out laughing. Gracie gave Gemma a hostile look. “It’s not nice to mess with your best friend. Who knows what kind of secrets I might let slip next time we’re in an awkward social situation?”
Gemma slipped her hand into Gracie’s and gave it a squeeze. “But I know that my best friend would never do anything like that. Besides, I’m just having a little harmless fun. I’ve waited a long time for you to fall hard for a guy. The least I can do is enjoy it.”
Gracie spluttered. “I have not fallen hard. In fact, I’m back to loathing him.”
“So, the two of you aren’t still hooking up?”
“I told you…it was all fake.”
“That is such bullshit, Gracie Louise McAllister! I have known you forever, and I can tell when you’re lying.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yeah, ’cause you do that thing with your hair.”
“What thing?”
Gemma pointed, and Gracie realized she was pulling on a strand of her blonde hair. Dropping it as though it burned, she scoffed. “Oh, for the love of chocolate, it doesn’t mean—”
“Who’s ready for the perfect sandwich?” Mike asked as he came through the door with a TV tray. On it were three plates holding four perfect sandwiches, three bags of chips, and three soda cans.
“You better not have made me two sandwiches. There isn’t enough room in my stomach for that much food. I may explode,” Gemma warned.
Mike set the tray down on the dresser and handed her one of the single sandwich plates, kissing her on the cheek. “Nope, the two are for me. I’m a growing boy.”
Both women snorted. Mike had always had a big appetite, but the man had stopped at just under six feet tall, and he had a total swimmer’s body.
Gemma gave Gracie a pointed look, signaling she wasn’t done with their conversation. “Hey, Mike, how can you tell when Gracie’s lying?”
“She pulls her hair,” Mike said around a giant bite of sandwich.
Gracie got up from the bed in disgust and grabbed her food off the tray. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you animal.”
Mike howled in response.
“Gracie is lying about sleeping with Eric,” Gemma said.
Mike made a face. “Good, because I don’t need to hear about it.”
“God, you are such a baby.”
Mike shook his head and used his sandwich as a pointer. “Why in the hell would I want to hear about either of my best friends’ sex lives?”
“Seriously, you’re always the one telling me to mind my own business when I interrogate people on private issues, so why are you suddenly so nosy?” Gracie asked.
Gemma popped the top on her caffeine-free root beer. “Because it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine.”
Gracie dropped a chip into her mouth, chewing it slowly. Finally, she shrugged. “Fine, we slept together.”
When Gracie didn’t continue, Gemma prodded, “And? Come on, you can’t leave me hanging without a complete list of Eric’s…attributes.”
“Fuck, I’ve got to stop hanging out with girls,” Mike grumbled.
Gracie’s cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Oh, knock it off! If we were guys, you’d be asking how big the girl’s breasts were.”
Mike actually looked affronted. “I am a gentleman!”
Gemma pointed at the door. “Whatever. You don’t want to hear, then leave the room, but as a very bored pregnant woman who has been cooped up for a month, I want details.”
“Gemma, I am not giving you sex details.”
“Thank God for that,” Mike said.
“Fine, fine! At least tell me what went wrong! If things were getting hot and heavy, why do you loathe him?”
Gracie didn’t know how she was going to put into words what she didn’t even understand herself.
“It’s hard to explain. Besides you and Mike, I’ve never really had anyone who believed in me. My parents love me, but I spend more time defending my life to them than I think is necessary.”
“Talking to the girl who got pregnant at eighteen, kicked out of her parents’ house, and spent years trying to make amends with pretty much everyone she loves.”
“Yeah, see, I know you understand.”
“I don’t, I’m perfect.” Mike took a snapping bite of his chip, smiling smugly.
Gemma glared while Gracie threw a chip at him. “Ass.”
“Anyway, besides me and, for some reason, Mike, Eric gets you?”
Gracie turned to Gemma, worry etched in her face. “I think so. Otherwise, why would he basically call my mother out on her lack of enthusiasm for my career choices? I mean, you should have seen him, Gemma. He was so calm, but he didn’t back down and just kept going. I’ve never had a guy do that.”
“Maybe because you’ve never let them get close enough to know you.”
“Hey, I’ve had other relationships,” Gracie defended.
Gemma squeezed her arm. “Gracie, your longest relationships were all with men your parents approved of, and you were miserable and uptight during the brief relationships. And every other guy you’ve sent packing before they know your favorite color. But with Eric, you’re you, warts and all.”
“Dude, I haven’t had warts since kindergarten,” Gracie joked.
“You know exactly what I mean! You fight with him and aren’t afraid to tell him exactly what you think and feel. I have never seen you like that with anyone besides the people closest to you and very few men.”
“So, you’re saying that when I’m myself, I’m outspoken and rude?” Gracie said.
“No. Outspoken, maybe, but also open, loving, funny, and loyal. I am so proud to have you in my life. All I was saying is that of all the guys you’ve ever been around, Eric is one of the few that you can be free with. As much as you may loathe him, that’s something to consider.”
Gemma had never been stingy with the praise, but still the love and approval in her voice sent little tears spilling over Gracie’s lashes. She started waving her hand in front of her eyes and cried, “Well, shit, now you’ve done it!”
Gemma moved her plate out of the way and struggled to lean forward with her arms outstretched. Gracie met her halfway and hugged her with a laugh.
“Such a softy,” Gemma said with a definite sniffle. “You need to watch that, or people are going to think your bladder lies too close to your eyes.”
Gracie snorted at the old euphemism Gemma’s mom used whenever the girls would cry over any little thing. “That’s still disgusting, I don’t care how long the saying’s been around.”
Gemma grabbed a napkin from the tray and handed it to her. “So you’ve said.”
Loud slurping interrupted their Kodak moment, and both of them turned to look at Mike, who raised his can to them. “Don’t mind me, just the last guy in this pissant town destined to be single.”
The deep bitterness in his voice made Gracie reach out to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, what’s up with you, gloomy Gus?”
“Nothing, except now Gracie and Eric are going to hook up for good, and I’m going to be the last single man in our little group.”
Gemma and Gracie exchanged amused looks before Gracie slid over and put her arm around him. “I never said I wanted to be with Eric. Did you miss the whole loathing thing?”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m repulsive to women.”
Gracie squeezed him to her affectionately. “That’s because most of us are idiots. You just need to find a girl who’s smarter than the rest of us.”
“And avoid drama queens at all costs.”
“Except as friends? Friends who make you whatever you want in the form of chocolate?”
“Except for those.”
“Oh good, because besides Gemma, you’re the only one who will put up with me.”
He chuckled. “Well, I guess we all have our uses. You better get started on some chocolate goodies, though, to keep me happy. I’ve always wanted to be paid to be someone’s friend.”
She laughed. “I’ll make you so many goodies, you’ll be round as Santa Claus.”
“If you make me fat, I’ll never get a woman.”
His statement sobered her, and she held his cheek in her palm. “Yes, you will, Michael. You’ll get someone awesome. Wait and see.”
The sound of Gemma’s loud chewing broke through their tender moment, and both of them turned toward her. She stared at them for a minute, her cheek full of food, and waved at them.
“Carry on, nothing to see here. Just a preggo woman trying to get her nourishment.”
* * *
Around four that afternoon, Gracie pulled up to the small house in Filer that belonged to Margaret, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. It had been over two weeks since she’d seen Pip, and she wondered whether their short time together had really made that much of an impact on her.
She stepped up onto the front porch and knocked lightly on the door, a festive bag in her other hand and a box in brightly wrapped paper on her hip. She’d picked something up for Margaret the day after meeting her and hoped she wouldn’t be uncomfortable with it.
The door opened, and Gracie smiled at Margaret, who stepped back to let her pass. “Come on in. She’s—”
A high-pitched squeal echoed in the small living room, and Gracie set down the Christmas presents just in time to scoop Pip up in her arms. The child buried her face in Gracie’s neck, and Gracie inhaled sharply, her eyes burning with tears of joy.
“I missed you, Pip. So very much.”
She couldn’t pry Pip’s clasped hands away from the back of her neck to look at her, so she just carried her over to the couch and sat. Margaret’s home was filled with shelves featuring dusty knickknacks and worn furniture sparsely displayed around the room. On the floor were old wooden blocks Pip must have been playing with.
Gracie met Margaret’s gaze, noting the sadness in the other woman’s eyes, and reached out a hand. Margaret took it and sat beside her.
“I brought you each a Christmas present,” Gracie said.
The word present didn’t faze Pip, but Margaret immediately started to protest. “Now, you didn’t have to bring me anything.”
“I know, but I wanted to. Yours is the bag, and the box is for Jocelyn.”
Margaret went to pick up the dropped parcels, and Pip turned on Gracie’s lap to accept her box. As Margaret pulled out a beautiful barn-wood picture frame, Gracie said, “I thought we could get your picture taken with Jocelyn so she would always remember you.”
Tears rolled down Margaret’s weathered face. “Thank you, honey. It’s beautiful.”
Pip was pulling at the bow on the top of the package, and Gracie spoke softly over her head. “I was wondering if your family had contested your decision?”
Margaret’s lips thinned. “No. I’ve already had my will drafted and signed by my lawyer. The only thing they want from me is what they can sell.”
Gracie couldn’t understand what this woman had done to raise children who didn’t care that their mother was dying. She was so warm and loving.
“If you want, you can join my parents and me for Christmas.”
Margaret shook her head. “I appreciate it, but despite their faults, I love my family.”
“Of course.” Gracie helped Pip finish unwrapping, worried she’d overstepped with Margaret. When they opened the box together, Pip immediately went for the toy Gracie had bought her while Gracie pulled out the dress, coat, tights, and shoes for Margaret to see. The red-green-and-white plaid dress had a poofy skirt and puffed sleeves was going to be adorable on Pip.
“How cute,” Margaret said.
“Just let me know when you want your pictures done. My friend Ryan is a photographer and is going to do your session free of charge.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
“Yes, you can. It’s already handled,” Gracie said firmly.
Pip got off her lap to play with her toy on the floor. As she pushed the animal train around, Gracie reached out her hand and took Margaret’s once more.
“I know we don’t know each other, but anything you need, just ask.”
Margaret was watching Pip with tear-filled eyes. “Just take care of my great-granddaughter when I’m gone. That’s what I really need.”