Chapter 10
Grace
I’m not surprised he’s gone when I wake. He’s still hiding his scars. His pain is deep. Trust won’t be easy.
I’ve done hard things before. He’s worth the fight. After a quick shower and dressing, I meet him in the kitchen.
“I need to go to town today. I promised to volunteer at the veterans’ center,” I say. “But I-ah-I have to go into the studio to get a few supplies that I want to take with me. Is that okay?”
“Sure, I’ll come with and help.”
We cross to the studio, and he pulls the key set I gave him from his pocket and opens the door. Inside I grab one of my oversized canvas totes and a smaller one.
He helps me load blank canvases in varying sizes and a couple sketch pads into one bag, then follows me to the shelving unit with the paints and brushes.
Guy could never pass up bargains on any paint supplies.
He’d even stop at yard sales to look for more.
While I select a variety of new and partially used paints and brushes, Caleb peruses the length of the shelving unit.
“What’s this for? It looks old and expensive.”
I glance up, brow furrowing. He’s holding a small, wooden box. “That’s Guy’s grandfather’s treasure box. Where did you find that?”
“It was behind this row of mason stains.”
“Those are my pottery stains. Why is it even out here? He always kept it in the bookcase in the house. That’s where he kept pictures of his mom and mementos from when he was young.
It was always inside on the top shelf behind his favorite books.
I—I haven’t touched that shelf other than to dust since....
I didn’t notice it was missing. Why did he bring it out here? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Do you have the key?”
“No. He kept it.” I frown as I try to recall the last time I saw the key. “I don’t remember seeing it in his drawer when I—when I cleared it out.”
“Grace, it’s okay. Don’t’ worry. We’ll find a way to open it. We can do it together or I can do it and let you know. We don’t have to do anything right now. Let’s take it with us so we know it’s safe.”
After locking the studio, he secures the box behind his seat and lifts me into his truck. We’re halfway to town when he breaks the silence.
“Grace, have you noticed anything out of place in the house? Anything missing or moved?”
“When?”
“Right after Guy died or just before? Even since then has anything felt out of place?”
“I—it’s been two years.”
“Just think about it. If something was off it will come to you.”
Leaning my elbow on the windowsill I rub my forehead. I don’t understand any of this.
“Guy and I had a peaceful, quiet life. No drama, no excitement. We watched the same shows on TV. I cooked. He kept the yard. We’d hike the mountain trails together or go for long bike rides.
When he was off, we’d sometimes take in a movie or meet a few guys from the fire department and their families.
“Mostly, we enjoyed our time together in the studio. He’d paint while I’d work at my wheel. Our biggest conflict was who got to pick the music. He liked classical, I liked country western.
“We’d just signed up with an adoption agency and were hoping to have children.
“The first year he was gone is a blur. The hardest part was not being able to see him and say goodbye.
“I couldn’t even go into the studio. Jaxon and Maura helped a lot. I do remember coming home a couple times and the house door was unlocked. Nothing seemed out of place. I assumed I just forgot. After a few months the mental fog lifted but I was still just surviving day to day.
“Some men stopped by about six months after he... passed and asked if I was willing to sell. I told them no and that was it. I never saw them again.”
“Anything unusual about his behavior just before he died?”
“No. He was into a lot of property maintenance. I told you he replaced the yard lights, put the new bolt and lock on the studio door, cleared the brush that was getting too close to the studio and house. He actually cut it back so that we have the twelve feet of clearing around both structures. He planned on putting in a security system like you did. But he... he didn’t get a chance to. ”
“You said he was concerned with trespassers. Do you know exactly where?”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea. I could show you.”
He pulls his truck into the lot at the veterans’ center and parks in front of the door.
“Maybe tomorrow. Today, after you’re done with your volunteer shift, I’d like to take you to dinner. Start thinking about where you want to go. Stay put, I’ll come around to walk you in.”
His truck is at least a foot higher than what I’m used to.
The feel of his large hands wrapped around my waist as he lifts me down sends a spike of want through my system.
Images from the night before flood over me, an ache of need grows low in my body.
I want him again. I want him as many times as I can before he leaves.
I want happy memories to replace all the losses.
I want just a little bit of joy. Even if it doesn’t last.
Caleb insists on carrying all the bags and follows me inside. The director rushes out and gives me a hug. “Grace, I’m so glad you’re here. Volunteers have been scarce lately and—” She notices Caleb for the first time. “Oh, and you brought someone else. You are an angel.
“Follow me, we’ll go to the activity room. Joe is in there just staring out the window again.” She glances at Caleb, giving him a once over. “What branch, young man?”
“Army Ranger, ma’am.”
“Yes! The spades table is in play.” Her excitement is contagious and I smile.
She’s four steps ahead of us before Caleb can respond. Storming into the room, she claps her hands. “Gentlemen, we have a fourth. He’s a rookie. I want you to be gentle since he’s new.”
She glances across the room. “Joe, will you please come help Grace. It looks like she brought an art supply store.”