Chapter 19
Damon's heart lurched, and his chest tightened when his cell phone vibrated with a call in the middle of his workday. He wasn't supposed to take calls or even check texts while on duty, but he'd already explained the situation to his CO, who sat fifteen feet away.
He knew Damon was waiting for unpleasant news and had agreed to let him step out and take the call when it came.
Damon pulled his phone from his pocket to find his mom's name on the screen. He looked up to find his CO looking at him. The gruff barrel-chested man jerked his head toward the hallway.
Damon didn't hesitate; he walked toward the door with long strides. He'd planned to go outside, but one look at the sand blowing around, and he retreated to the far end of the hall.
He answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hey Mom."
"Hi, son." She let out a heavy sigh. "I assume you know why I'm calling?"
"Considering it's two in the morning there, I'm guessing Marisol—" Damon's throat clogged up, and he couldn't finish his sentence. He leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor.
"Yes. She's gone. About thirty minutes ago."
Damon swore under his breath and stifled the urge to punch the wall. Marisol had been on hospice for almost a week, so he knew this was coming, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
"How's Grace?"
"She's a wreck, as you'd expect. She cried in my arms for a solid ten minutes.
Now she's talking with Gabe and Paige about what needs to be done.
She asked me to call you." Mom paused for a moment before continuing.
"She wanted to make sure you knew, but I'm not sure she's ready to talk about it yet. "
Damon wasn't sure he was ready to talk to her either. What was he supposed to say to the woman who had just lost her mother?
After a lengthy silence, his mom asked, "Are you okay, son?"
"Not really." And with those words the tears started to flow.
"I know this is hard." His mom's soothing voice came over the phone. "You got to know Marisol quite well in the short time you were home." She waited another long beat before continuing. "But you know she's in a better place now, right? That she's no longer in pain."
He and Grace had a lengthy discussion about that a few days ago. His calls with her over this past week had been somber as she sat by her mom's bedside. They'd been full of quiet contemplation and favorite memories of her mom.
"I know." Damon sucked in a sharp breath, trying to quell his emotions. "It still hurts though."
"It's supposed to. If it didn't hurt, that means we didn't love hard enough."
Was that why his heart hurt so badly for Grace? Because he loved her so deeply?
She still hadn't said the words he longed to hear and probably wouldn't for some time considering all she was going through, but it was okay. He could be patient.
"What do I say to Grace when I talk to her?" he asked, seeking his mom’s wisdom.
"Just speak from the heart. Let her know how sorry you are for her loss and that you wish you could be here with her."
Boy, do I ever.
He wanted nothing more than to wrap Grace in his arms and never let go.
He talked with his mom for several more minutes then took another fifteen to compose himself before texting Grace.
Damon: My mom told me the news. I'm so sorry, Grace. I wish I could say "I'm here for you," because I want to be, but it feels impossible when I'm so far away.
Damon: I'd love to talk with you when you're ready. Let me know when you'd like me to call.
Hopefully by the time she was ready to talk, he'd know what to say to her.
When Damon finally reentered the office, his CO blocked his path before he made it to his desk.
"Was it the bad news you've been expecting?"
"Yes." Damon couldn't make eye contact.
"Then I don't want to see your face until you start guard duty tomorrow night at twenty-two hundred."
"Sir?" Damon looked at him now, questioning whether he was kidding.
"She wasn't technically related, so you don't get bereavement, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a breather." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Take the next thirty hours to do what you need to do, then make sure you're ready to work."
"Yes sir." Damon saluted then made a hasty retreat from the building before Kerns changed his mind.
He went straight to the comms center where he could continue what he started the night Grace told him Marisol had pneumonia.
A knock sounded on Grace's back door just as she tucked the last of the leftovers from the luncheon following the funeral into the refrigerator. Damon's aunts had gone above and beyond.
She opened the back door to find Gabe and Paige standing on their shared back porch. They'd put their leftovers away quicker than she had.
"Do you want to come over and..." Paige gave a small shrug. "Watch a movie or something?"
Grace's gaze shifted to her brother.
He gave a small smile and nod, encouraging her to accept Paige's invitation.
The last thing Grace wanted was to be alone, but Gabe and Paige had their own grieving to do. They didn't need her showing up at their place every time her house got too quiet.
"Thanks, but I think I'd like to rest for a while. Maybe later this evening."
Gabe stepped inside and pulled her into his arms. "You don't need to be alone, Gracie. Come over whenever you want."
It wasn't the first hug he'd given her today, and it probably wouldn't be the last. A hug from her brother who shared her grief was comforting, but it wasn't the same as having Damon envelop her in his arms and wipe away her tears.
The way he did when her mom collapsed after the wedding.
The way he would now, if he wasn't thousands of miles away.
"Thank you," she whispered as she blinked away tears. She couldn't believe she still had any moisture left in her body after all the tears she'd shed over the past ten days.
After Gabe and Paige left, she downed a glass of water. Then she admired the large bouquet of flowers that arrived the day after her mom passed. They were beautiful. Mom would have loved them.
I love them.
It was incredibly thoughtful of Damon to have them delivered.
He'd also emailed her a thoughtful letter, citing all the things he'd come to love about her mother in the short time he'd known her, including raising such a beautiful and amazing daughter.
To some people, his words might sound cheesy or trite, but she could hear the sincerity of Damon's voice as she read his words.
He'd put a lot of effort into the letter, and it touched her.
She changed out of her black dress and into sweatpants and the over-sized ARMY hoodie that showed up on her doorstep last night with a note that said: I know it's not the same as me hugging you, but every time you wear this, remember I'm thinking of you and wish I was there with you.
She plopped down on the couch with a sigh.
She didn't bother to open the blinds this morning, so the gloominess of the living room fit her mood.
The day was sunny and surprisingly pleasant for mid-November, however.
She couldn't have asked for better weather for her mom's funeral, but that didn't change the fact that it felt like the darkest day of her life.
Leaning over, she tugged the afghan Faith gave her mother off the recliner and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Damon.
Grace: The house is so quiet. Too quiet.
Grace: Not any quieter than when my mom was still here, but the silence feels oppressive now.
Grace: I feel so empty and hollow.
Grace: I wish you were here.
Damon was on guard duty right now, so he wouldn't be able to respond for hours, but texting him—even if he couldn't answer—made it feel like he wasn't so far away.
Grace: The service was short but beautiful. Mom wanted both Gabe and me to speak. I volunteered to give the eulogy, thinking I'd be less likely to get emotional if I was reading a pre-written speech. I was wrong, but thankfully, I made it through without breaking down too badly.
Grace: Paige and her parents each gave a short tribute also.
She laid down on the couch and tucked the afghan around her. As her eyes fluttered closed, her thoughts drifted to the day she met Damon. Who knew getting stuck in an elevator with a stranger would be the best thing to ever happen to her?
Sometime later, her phone buzzed in her hand, jolting her awake.
Damon: I wish I was there too.
Damon: And I wish I could call and talk to you right now, but I can't.
He wasn't even supposed to be checking his texts while on duty. He could get in trouble if he got caught.
Because he was doing a month-long stint of night guard duty, their calls now took place when he got off duty in the mornings which was evening for her. She liked knowing that when he said "sweet dreams" before ending their calls, he was headed to bed too.
Grace: I know. I'm sorry for bombarding you with texts. I probably should have emailed you. I just...I don't know. Texting you makes me feel closer to you right now.
Damon: Text all you want. I'll respond if I can, but it may not be much. Sorry.
Grace responded with a heart emoji, then stopped and thought about how he might interpret it. There had been so much going on that she still hadn't told him she loved him. She didn't want him to think she was only saying the words because of his sweet gestures.
She couldn't throw those words out mindlessly. Not when she was still reeling from losing her mother.
But I do love him. So much.
She still needed to tell him everything though. She wanted to believe their relationship—even though long-distance—was strong enough to weather the secrets of her past.
When they talked, he was often surrounded by his buddies. It never felt like the right time. For now, she'd tell him more about how the amazing people of Providence made this difficult day a little easier for her.
Grace: I was surprised at how many people—mostly your family—came to the funeral.
Many of them followed us to the cemetery then back to the church for lunch.
Your mom and Lottie served the best lasagna and garlic bread sticks I have ever tasted.
And Amy made several of her triple chocolate cakes for dessert.
I heard it's kind of famous around here.
Grace: Between the leftovers they sent home with me and the steady stream of casseroles, cakes and cookies that people have been bringing, I won't have to cook for a week. And I’ll probably gain ten pounds.
A teasing smile lifted Grace's lips as she typed one more text.
Grace: Too bad I don't have a handsome soldier here to help me eat them. Maybe I should call Zack Hastings and see if he's hungry.
Damon: DON'T YOU DARE!!!
Grace laughed. Something she hadn't done for a while.
Her doorbell rang, and she braced herself for more condolences and food as she opened the door.
But there was no one there.
She looked up and down the street just as a dark blue minivan—that looked like the one Isabella drove—pulled away from the curb three houses down.
Three o'clock in the afternoon was an odd time for kids to doorbell ditch.
She glanced down as she stepped back to close the door. Two familiar red packages tied with a ribbon caught her attention.
Licorice and chocolates.
She picked them up and opened the note that was tucked between the two packages of candy. Who knew getting stuck in an elevator with a stranger would be the best day of my life.
She grinned as fresh tears pricked her eyes. She didn't know how Damon did it, but he often knew exactly what she needed. And right now, she needed to focus on happier times. The man was seriously amazing. And so was his family.
She took a picture of the treats and sent it to him.
Grace: Thank you!
Damon: Enjoy and know that I’m thinking of you.