Chapter 10 Gracie
Red took charge of their small mid-week family dinner, and Gracie couldn’t be more grateful for her grandfather’s skilled touch when it came to comfort food. Tonight, he’d made a cast-iron pot of chili, taken some down to the lodge, and kept a portion for the three of them to enjoy.
Gracie sat at the round kitchen table, her head still at Sugarfall, with New Year’s Eve just a few days away. They were almost done eating, and Benny and Red were deep in conversation about the upcoming dog talent show, chatting about whistles and tricks and what treats and toys Santa should bring.
“I don’t know, Grandpa,” Benny mused, sliding a spoon around his chili. “I like the idea of Santa, but it’s New Year’s Eve. Maybe we should think bigger.”
Red’s eyes flashed. “Things never go good when you suggest that, Benny-bean.”
“But Santa’s so anticlimactic.”
“Anti…” Red snorted. “You were paying attention when we did that crossword puzzle, weren’t you?”
Benny just grinned. “Am I right? We need Santa to do something more exciting. Got any ideas, Mom?”
“Something fun from the bakery?” she suggested. “We could bring New Year’s Eve popcorn balls for the kids.”
“Popcorn’s awesome, but only fun if we make it,” Benny said, then sat up as an idea occurred.
“We have a popcorn machine out in the back of the garage,” Red said, chuckling as though just thinking about that thing made him laugh.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Gracie said. “It’s a hundred years old and won’t work without propane and…prayer.”
“The Cornucopia? Not quite a hundred years old, but it works,” her father said defensively, turning to Benny. “My father, your great-great-grandfather, Owen Starling, built that machine for the first Summit County Fair out in Coalville when I was younger than you.”
“Really?” Benny’s eyes grew wide. He was always fascinated by the family history.
“Yes, sir. He used an old wheelbarrow as the base, put a brass kettle under glass, added a copper spout, and if you put a bowl just so”—he held out an imaginary container—“it’ll catch the corn as it pops.”
“Cool!” Benny exclaimed.
“Daddy called it Starling’s Superior Snacks. He ran a booth at that fair every August until Cora and I took over years later.” He looked off into the distance, lost in a memory. “I loved that contraption.”
“Let’s bring it to the contest!” Benny said, bouncing with excitement. “We could make popcorn for everyone and I bet I can figure out a way to tie it into Newton’s laws.”
“Or just fake it,” Red said on a laugh. “Who’s gonna know but you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Olivia.”
“Whoa, hold up there, boys,” Gracie said, stopping this popcorn train before it got any further down the tracks. “We can’t—”
She looked down at the table when her phone buzzed. She’d left one of her top bakers at Sugarfall to work on two cakes, so she flipped the phone, hoping there wasn’t a problem at the shop.
At the sight of Sam Sutton’s name on the screen, her heart dropped.
Of course he was calling to cancel. Of course he’d made a promise he wouldn’t keep. Of course Benny would be disappointed.
“Sorry,” she muttered, standing up to take the call and get the bad news without Benny having to hear.
“I have to…talk for a second.” She added a cautionary finger, ready to steer them away from the popcorn machine, but she was probably about to crush Benny in another way.
So she tempered her warning. “Be sure you two know what you’re doing with that thing. ”
Benny and Red exchanged a secret smile, which was never good.
But neither was a call from Benny’s father about to deliver a dose of disappointment.
“I won’t be long but do not let Grandpa clean up,” she said, giving Benny’s shoulder a squeeze when she walked by. “He’s worked enough today.”
“I promise, Mom,” he said. “And then we’ll get started on that whistle, okay, Grandpa?”
“I might be practicing that ‘objects at rest stay at rest’ law with Newt,” Red cracked.
“Grandpa—”
“I know, I know. That’s not his name. Kiddo, I don’t have enough time left on Earth to call that dog by a fifteen-syllable handle.”
As Gracie walked out, she pressed the phone to her chest, hoping Benny would still be laughing when she told him that his father wasn’t coming to the doggie talent contest.
Grabbing her jacket from the hook, she stepped out the back door. It was cold, but Benny was famous for carrying on one conversation while eavesdropping on another, so it was better to talk outside.
The air slapped her cheeks as she stepped onto the back deck, pulling the coat tighter around her. She drew a steadying breath and swiped to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Grace.” Sam’s voice came through warm, almost friendly, which immediately put her on edge. He never sounded like this unless he wanted something.
“Hi,” she said cautiously. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. How’s your day been? How’s the bakery? Benny doing okay?”
“The bakery’s busy,” she said, wary of the unexpected small talk. “And Benny’s great. Loving dog camp.” She cut to the chase to shorten the call. “What do you need, Sam?”
There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to say this in front of Benny in the car the other day,” he began, his voice lower. “But, uh, Coco and I are separating. We’re getting a divorce.”
The words landed like a punch. “You’re…what?”
“It’s not working out,” he said roughly. “We’ve been fighting nonstop. It’s…bad, Grace. Really bad.”
She didn’t even know what to say. Questions tumbled through her mind like an avalanche. Why now? What happened? Who decided this? What about their child? Would Sam just go through life leaving single mothers in his wake?
But she forced the thoughts back, keeping her voice even. “I’m sorry to hear that. Truly.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Me, too.”
Gracie bit her lip. Sam had always been complicated—charming and infuriating, equal parts brilliance and selfishness. Once upon a time, she’d been hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with him. She’d believed every promise.
Then she got pregnant and…pfft. The promises shattered and their love evaporated. She thought they might go have a quick Las Vegas wedding. He went to Las Vegas, all right.
Alone. And he stayed there.
She’d been heartbroken, but she’d survived. Her family rallied around her, and then helped her raise Benny. Her son had become her reason, her anchor, her joy in the darkest times, like when her father died.
But Sam? He just drifted in and out like an unpredictable, disruptive winter storm, leaving messes in his path.
“Grace,” Sam said, breaking into her spiraling thoughts. “I didn’t call just to dump my drama on you.”
“Then why did you call?” she asked, sharper than intended.
“I…” He hesitated, and she heard the faint sound of a hand dragging over stubble, a sigh.
Here it comes. I can’t make it this—
“I miss you guys. Can’t wait to see you this weekend.”
Her heart stuttered. Miss you guys. Not just Benny—you guys.
“You miss…” She couldn’t even form the sentence.
“You and Benny,” he clarified quickly. “I miss…what we had. I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid to even say it.”
Maybe?
He was divorcing another woman. What was wrong with him?
Gracie’s mouth went dry. Shock rippled through her, tangled with anger and confusion. For years, Sam had kept her at arm’s length, showing up only when it was convenient, never once hinting that he regretted leaving. And, now…this?
“I—” She swallowed, shaking her head. “Sam, I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“You don’t have to,” he said gently. “I just needed to tell you.”
The silence stretched, then she drew in a shaky breath. “I need to go.”
“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. “Of course. Grace, listen, there’s more I want to say, but it can wait. I’ll see you on Saturday. What time is the big show?”
She looked out at the dark night, scowling. She should tell him not to come. Not to bring his problems and promises and lies.
“I’ll text you the info,” she said instead. “Bye, Sam.”
“Bye, Grace.”
She stood in the cold, staring at the snowy yard without seeing it. Her mind replayed his words on a loop. I miss you guys.
It shouldn’t matter. She knew Sam was an unreliable, selfish man who had shattered her trust and her heart. There was no future there—not for her, not for Benny.
And yet…
Benny. Her chest ached. She’d been worrying about him constantly these past few months.
He had no father, lost his grandfather when he was in kindergarten, and needed someone to guide him through boyhood into manhood.
Red did his best, and Jack had stepped in with kindness and steady strength, but it wasn’t the same. A boy deserved his dad.
She thought of Benny’s face lighting up when Sam actually showed up for something, the golden, rare moments when Sam’s attention was fully on him.
Gracie wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the coat. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself hope that Sam wanted to be that kind of father to Benny. Even if he did, she could never trust him again.
Still, his words clung like the cold. I miss you guys.
When she finally went back inside, she plastered on a smile for Benny’s sake. He was loading the dishwasher and still talking about cognition in dogs, while Red sat at the table, looking wiped out and satisfied.
As she passed, she gave her grandfather’s bald head a kiss. “Great chili, Benedict Starling.”
He smiled up at her, then back at Benny. “Gracie, I love that boy,” he said under his breath. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”
She felt tears sting at the words. Did Benny really need his father when his great-grandfather was right here, being all the man Benny needed to emulate in life?
Much later that night, Gracie paused outside Benny’s door, easing it open just enough to peek inside.