Chapter 10 Gracie #2
The room was dark except for the soft glow of his spaceship nightlight, which cast pale blue beams across the ceiling where stick-on stars glimmered faintly. Benny lay sprawled sideways in his bed, the covers a tangled mess around his legs. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths deep and even.
Beside the bed, Sir Isaac Newton snoozed in his crate, his little chest rising and falling in time with Benny’s breathing. Good boys, both of them.
This was her world, she thought. This child, this dog, even. This simple, ordinary moment. She slipped quietly inside and tugged the covers up over Benny’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his warm forehead.
“I love you, sweet little man,” she whispered, though he couldn’t hear her.
She lingered a bit longer, letting the sight of him sink deep into her bones. But even that tender scene couldn’t fully push away the rattled feeling left behind by Sam’s phone call. His words echoed in her head.
Gracie bent over to peek at Newt, who opened one eye to acknowledge her, but didn’t move.
She blew him a kiss and slipped out, easing the door closed behind her.
The living room was dimly lit by a single lamp. As she padded past on her way to the kitchen, hoping for a bite of something sweet and maybe a cup of herbal tea, she spied Red sunk into his old recliner, as expected.
Years ago, Mom and Dad would be in there with him, reading or playing a game. But her mother had essentially moved into the lodge since Dad died, and Gracie understood why. It had been five years, but George McBride had been a presence in this house, and a good one.
Red sat with a pair of reading glasses perched low on his nose, tapping a pencil on a clipboard where he’d printed out The New York Times crossword puzzle. He claimed finishing it daily kept him sharp.
He glanced up over the rims of his glasses, his bushy brows rising. “You look like the bad guys won.”
She gave a faint smile. “Just the battle, not the war.”
He pointed his pencil toward the empty chair beside him. “Come over here, granddaughter. Let’s have a chat. And by chat, I mean what’s a six-letter word that ends in C and is…” He scowled at the fine print. “‘Like the Mona Lisa?’”
She thought about it. “Six letters that ends in C? That’s all you have?”
“There’s an O in the third box.”
“So not…classic?”
“That’s seven.”
“Mythic?”
“Has an O, assuming Benny was right and a ‘modern way to make an exit without leaving’ is ‘ghosting.’”
She gave a soft chuckle. “Where does that boy get his brains?”
“Forget brains, he’s got heart,” Red said. “Just like his mama. And by the way, the popcorn maker really does work.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
Rolling her eyes, she pointed to the kitchen. “I need tea and something sweet. How about you?”
“Only if you come back and talk to me,” he said. “Something’s on your mind.”
She gave him a knowing smile. Red Starling was truly amazing. He never pushed, but when he invited a talk, she knew she’d come away wiser and better for it.
“Okay,” she said softly, heading toward the kitchen. “Let me brew us a cup.”
She returned with two steaming mugs and a small plate of biscotti she’d brought home from the bakery, trying to decide if she should tell him about Sam’s call.
Part of her wanted to shove the whole thing into a box and lock it tight. But Red was a sounding board and she needed one.
She handed him a mug and sat down, curling one leg beneath her. Red sniffed the tea, nodded in approval, then took a sip and studied her closely. His eyes, old but still sharp, didn’t miss a thing.
“Mm-hmm,” he moaned as it went down hot. “So save us both the suspense and tell me what’s weighing on you.”
She broke a piece off her biscotti, chewed slowly, buying herself a few seconds. Finally, she sighed. “I was going to tell you eventually anyway, so…Sam is coming to town. He wants to see the dog talent contest.”
Red’s lip curled like he’d just bitten into something sour. “Benny mentioned that, but I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She nodded. “Exactly. I honestly thought he’d cancel at the last minute, like always. Benny would be crushed, and we’d have to pick up the pieces.”
“He will cancel,” Red said darkly. “That man’s made a career out of disappointing that boy.”
Gracie winced. “I thought so, too. But this time…might be different.”
Red looked sharply at her. “How so?”
“That was who called at dinner. He and Coco are getting a divorce.”
Red snorted. “Big, fat shockeroo.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “He can’t get along with anyone. Always looking for the next shiny thing, and when that loses its luster, he bolts. Quitter. Leaver. Loser.”
Despite her heavy heart, Gracie managed a dry laugh. “How do you really feel?”
“I feel like our lives are better off without him. You?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she admitted. “We talked, and it was…strange. He told me he and Coco are fighting, that it’s really bad. And then he said…” She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “He said he misses us. Benny and me.”
Red’s head jerked up, eyes flashing. “If that no-good fool comes sniffing around trying to sweet-talk you, you tell him to take a hike in the mountains and get lost.”
“I’m not going to—”
“I mean it.” His voice was rough with emotion. “He broke your heart. More than that, he lets that boy down time and again. A man, if you can call him one, doesn’t change. He’s lonely, blue, and feeling like he’s made yet another mistake.”
He was so right.
Gracie wrapped her hands around her mug, soaking in the warmth. “I’ve built a life without him.” Her voice softened. “But it’s been ten years, you know. Same year Aunt Cindy and Uncle Jack divorced. And now they’re—”
“A totally different situation,” Red insisted.
“But Benny does need a father figure.”
Red’s expression softened, though his eyes stayed fierce. “He’s got me.”
“He does,” Gracie said quickly. “And you’re the best. But you’re his great-grandfather, not his dad. It’s…different.” She swallowed hard. “I know I should probably try dating, try to find someone, but it’s scary. Weird. Hard. When I meet someone, I kind of freeze up. I’m not bubbly or outgoing.”
Red leaned over and put a hand on hers. “You’re a prize. You’re a Starling! You’ve got Cora’s strawberry blond hair, MJ’s big beautiful heart, George McBride’s brains, and my…backbone.”
She blinked fast, fighting tears. “What if that’s the answer I’ve been looking for all along? What if Benny could finally have his dad in his life the way he deserves?”
“Sam?” Red’s jaw tightened. “You don’t need a man who only shows up when it suits him. That boy needs stability, not empty promises.”
Gracie let out a shaky sigh as she sank deeper into the chair and sipped her tea.
“I just don’t know, Red. I share a child with Sam. Part of my heart will always…belong to him, I guess. Not in a romantic way, but because of Benny. Because we’re all connected by DNA.”
Red shook his head. “Don’t confuse history with hope, Gracie girl. That man had his chance, and he blew it. Don’t let him blow up your life all over again.”
She nodded, even as doubt prickled at the edges of her thoughts. “You’re right,” she whispered. “You’re always right.”
But as she nibbled the last bite of her biscotti, she couldn’t quite silence the treacherous voice inside her head.
What if this really was the answer? What if, against all odds, Sam meant what he said? What if Benny could have his father back, and she could stop worrying about filling that void herself?
Red reached over and patted her knee, his eyes soft now. “Want to know what I think?”
“Always.”
“Sam won’t show. And the popcorn popper would make Benny happy.”
“It would,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Can I bring it?”
She sighed. “You would even if I said no. That thing is iconic.”
He stared at her for a minute, then sucked in a noisy breath. “That’s it! Iconic! Six letters that ends in a C. Thank you!”
Sipping her tea, she just smiled at him, feeling a wave of affection for her precious grandfather. “No, Red, thank you. And, yeah, bring the Cornucopia. That’ll be awesome.”
And maybe, she thought with a smile, it would give her an excuse to talk to Marshall Hampton.