Down On My Knees (28 page)

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Authors: Victor McGlothin

BOOK: Down On My Knees
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“Uh-huh, more like after her panties came down,” quipped Mother Peters.
“Wallace?” muttered Grace, certainly not her Wallace.
“Oh, he was a handful,” Beverly continued. “Wallace had it all figured out, he thought. I told him he didn't know a woman any better after sleeping with her, except for what she'd learned from other men. His relationships only served as exercises to keep him busy until he realized that he didn't have a clue how to pull off staying in one. So, you can imaginehow we felt when he rolled up here ... with you. Dad wasn't the only one fearing you must've been pregnant in order to accomplish that.”
Grace was shocked. “You're serious, Beverly? You thought I'd trapped him?”
“Well, can you blame us, taking into account his past behavior?”she proposed, as a very concerned older sister.
“Wallace seems so different from the way you've painted him. He's been nothing but the perfect gentleman,” Grace said, to them as much as to herself.
“Well, he has been different since he decided to teach school,” Beverly reasoned. “How'd you two meet?”
“Actually my son is in his freshman-level English class,” Grace told them without considering the implications of her statement.
Mrs. Peters smiled uncomfortably. “Oh, you're divorced?”When Grace shook her head, Mother Peters cut her eyes at Beverly, then poured herself a tall cocktail as well. “Have any other children, do you?”
The atmosphere stiffened momentarily until Grace spoke up begrudgingly. “No, ma'am, just the one.”
“I'm sure he's a good kid,” Beverly assumed as she stuck up for Grace. “I wonder what's keeping the men.”
In the upstairs hallway, Wallace was having his own difficultiesdealing with a worthy interrogator, his father. Mr. Peterssat in a wicker chair while his son hustled travel bags into the guest rooms. “This Grace, is she formally educated? And I'm not talking about one of those computer degrees you can buy off that Internet, either.”
“Dad, Grace is a great girl. And yes, she's been to college, a real one with books and everything.”
“Not bad, not bad. So, can I get my hopes up that somedayI'll have babies bouncing off my knee and a house full of pitter-pattering little Wallaces? Sure would be nice to feel like I've led a full life before going to meet my Maker. I'm not getting any younger, you know.”
“You're only sixty-three, Dad, and a healthy sixty-three at that,” Wallace argued, with sweat beading up on his forehead.“What's all this talk about babies, anyway? You haven't been interested in who I might be making them with before now.”
“Because you haven't popped up and sprung one of your playmates on us before this,” his father fired back. “Look, why shouldn't I get excited about grandchildren? You got yourself a pretty young thing, educated, with child-bearing hips. Yeah, I saw 'em when she came in the house. And it would appear to me that you're applying for the job. So all I'm asking is, when are you gonna punch the clock?” Wallace's tired eyes begged for his father to let up, but he didn't until he'd had his final say. “Son, you caught yourself a good one by the looks of things. You're already halfway there. I like her.”
“We finally agree on something, I like her, too.” Wallace's grin was returned by his father's.
“Then it's settled!” Mr. Peters declared loudly. “Put a ring on her finger and a bun in her oven. Hey, Pooter, do you need your old man to hip you to a couple of things to help facilitatethe postnuptial pleasantries? You know I was a wildcat back in the day.”
“Hey, hey, I'm way too old for the birds-and-the-bees speech. I've figured out a few things myself to get me by.” Wallace felt ridiculous posturing for his old man's approval concerning his savvy in the sack, and even more so after his father's next comment.
“Humph, sounds like you do need to hear the speech, if all you're doing is getting by.” Wallace had to scratch his head over that one.
When he rejoined Grace and the girls on the luncheon patio, the mood was lukewarm. Beverly was fanning the heat away from her face with a magazine cover. Mother Peters was staring into the bottom of an empty drink glass, and Grace was as quiet as a church mouse. Wallace kissed his mother on the crown of her head, told her that he'd missed her, and then asked what they'd been up to while he was upstairs.Beverly stopped fanning and looked at Grace. “Nothingto speak of,” Beverly lied believably. “We're just too hot out here to keep a good conversation going.”
“Let's move the party inside then,” Wallace suggested, helping Grace from her chair before he'd done the same for his mother, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.
Grace gathered that Wallace's sister, Beverly, was around thirty-nine, a few years older than Wallace, and married to her law firm. She appeared to have no interest in putting her career on hold for a family at the moment—she stated that mommies didn't make the best litigators due to too many time constraints and conflicts to deal with, so she passed on motherhood for lawyer-hood. However, Beverly empathized with Grace, and that resulted in an instant bond between them. Also this particular homecoming provided a minor diversionfrom Beverly's parents' usual inquisition about her plans for a husband and children.
After dinner Beverly invited Grace into the study for evening libations, which was also the perfect place for the two of them to listen in on Wallace getting grilled by his fatherabout the first grown woman he dared to introduce.
“Pooter, for a grown woman, Grace sure doesn't eat much,” Wallace's father proclaimed. “How does she keep meat on her bones if she won't eat?”
“Something's wrong, I don't know. A bad case of nerves, I guess,” Wallace surmised, unsure as to why Grace had been uncharacteristically quiet and reserved. “Since she was out on the patio earlier today, she hadn't said much at all. It's not like her.”
“That Grace,” Mr. Peters said, “she's a stunner, though, and it looks like she's built for speed.” Wallace hid his face, knowing where this conversation was headed. “Is that it? Is that why you brought her down here with you, because she rides smooth like a showroom new Coupe de Ville?”
“Hey, Dad, keep it down,” Wallace pleaded. “You know these walls have ears. Grace isn't like all the other women I've met. She's entirely a different breed. It's got nothing to do with how she rides. I'm taking it slow. It'll be worth it becauseshe's worth it. We, uh, haven't been intimate ... yet.” When Wallace confessed, in private he thought, that he hadn't even kicked the tires, much less checked under the hood, his father wasn't sold on that being the most prudent way to go about business.
“Wallace,” his father called him for the first time since he'd arrived, “I'm not about to tell you how to go about selectinga woman, but you oughta test-drive it before you make a major investment, if you know what I mean. And, for my future grandchildren's sakes, I hope you do.”
Immediately after hearing her husband, Mother Peters stepped out of the kitchen where she has been putting away the flatware and holding her tongue. “Slow down a minute,” she objected. “I know that wasn't Harvey Peters I just overheardtrying to get his son to rush a young lady into bed, and for what? That insidious checking-under-the-hood logic makes perfect sense only if Wallace was in the market to buy a Buick, as opposed to settling down with a good woman.” Then, she quickly reminded her husband of something he may have forgotten. “You should be the one to talk, Harvey. In case it has danced out of your memory, I'll tell it like it used to be. Wallace, your daddy chased me down the aisle after courting me for five months. I cut him off at intense handholding,”Mother Peters recounted. “An older woman, a friend of my aunt's, explained to me that the key to a short engagementis a virtuous woman refusing to give in to married folks' affairs before taking the vows. That's right! He was on his knees outside my window begging for me to give in, but I wouldn't. He even got rained on a couple of times and I felt sorry for him when he did, but I held strong. I wasn't gonna let any fellow play me cheap, and Grace should do likewise.” After the cat got out of the bag, Harvey Peters was hiding his face.
Beverly and Grace were overheard laughing uncontrollablyafter catching this time-tested marital strategy, which Mother Peters had employed to perfection. Her short engagementhad led to a wonderful marriage, forty years of blissful misunderstandings and joyous disagreements, each of which helped to make their friendship stronger.
Before allowing Grace to depart from her home after two days of enjoyment and fellowship, Mother Peters apologized for her reaction upon hearing about André. Then she embracedGrace compassionately and told her to leave married folks' affairs to married folks if she seriously intended on becomingone herself. Sister Kolislaw's similar instructions came to mind as Grace said her good-byes, thinking “the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.”
29
Revelations
T
he slow ride back on Sunday afternoon proved to be a premonition of things to come. Grace felt as if she belongedto Wallace somehow. She couldn't deny being more emotionally tied to him than she had been to any man since she'd shielded her heart behind Edward taking an extended leave of absence. But she and Wallace weren't two college kids trying to figure out how life worked while jacking it up in the process. This was
it
, two adults discovering how much they admired and adored one another. The stage was set to chase the very illusive
it
, which the Bible detailed plainly in Proverbs eighteen, stating that “A man who finds a wife, finds a good thing and obtains favor from the Lord.” That's what Grace had in mind while wondering how serious Wallacewas about settling down and saving his love for the woman he could build a forty-year relationship with.
Slow down, Grace
, she told herself repeatedly,
slow down. This might feel like the end-all be-all, but it's still brand new.
During the next two hours on the road, Grace and Wallace traded glances as their fingers danced the way both of them wanted to, closely, skin on skin and without inhibition. “Thank you for sharing your family with me,
Pooter
,” Grace teased.
“Oh, not you, too. It's bad enough I have to hear that from them.”
“Okay, okay. I'll leave the name-calling to those who knew you when,” she apologized. “Now I see why you're such a good catch. You had good home training.” When Wallacelooked over at Grace, there was another thought idling there behind her steely gaze.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he asked.
“They're worth a lot more than that, but I'm in a charitablemood. I must say that I never thought I would ...” Grace said, hesitating, and taking a deep breath.
“What? That you would be falling for a schoolteacher, charmingly referred to by his unrelenting family as Pooter?”
Grace laughed then lowered her head. “No, it's just that I never thought I'd be falling in love at all.”
Wallace squeezed her hand, signifying that he felt the same way. “Grace, do you believe in Greek mythology?” She shrugged her shoulders, not having given it much thought. “Well, there's an old tale that makes a lot of sense. See, Plato wrote of these androgynous people, perfectly round and asexual in nature. They spent all of their time tryingto roll up Mount Olympus because they desperately wanted to be among the gods. The story goes that Zeus becameannoyed with their efforts, so he cut each of them in half. Ever since, they've been relegated to scooting across the earth in search of their other half, their soul mates. All these centuries later, we're still at it and stumbling over ourselves.”
Grace nodded her head slowly. “Hmm, do you think Plato was suggesting we shouldn't spend so much time looking for that perfect love, our soul mate?”
“I think that those androgynous people were made completein themselves but didn't know it. They were whole and complete as is, like you and me. I've had the chance to examinewho I am and what I need in a woman, not one who will complete me, but one who will adequately complement me, and me the same for her.” Chills ran down Grace's spine, and her fingers tingled. Either she was having a heart attack or she was actively experiencing the aftershock of love in its purest form, void of fear or remorse.
After taking time to reflect on Wallace's philosophy of what his needs entailed, Grace had one last question begging to be submitted. She calmed herself and came out with it from the bottom of her heart. “How will you know when you've found her?”
Wallace grinned, peered in his rearview mirror, and pulled onto the shoulder of a desolate stretch of farm road. “I already have, Grace, and I just took her to meet my parents,”he answered sincerely. Grace raised her hand in a cautiousand deliberate motion to remove her sunshades. They slid off her nose and fell into her lap. She was speechless for several moments. Her lips moved but nothing came out until she forced it.
“This is crazy, Wallace. No man meets a woman and within a couple of months knows she's it for him.”
“That's not quite the response I had in mind, but I do understandyour apprehension. Most women think they have to pull teeth to get a man to commit. Well, I happen to have grown fond of my teeth and plan on keeping all of them.”
“Wallace, this is so sudden,” said Grace, with her eyes fixed on his. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure. You don't have to decide today. I'm not going anywhere.”
“Okay, but are you sure?” she asked, not believing those words actually came out of her mouth.
“Wanna know how sure? I've already picked out the ring.” With his hand, Wallace motioned toward the glove box Grace slammed her foot against on the night she had had it out with Edward. “Go on. Open it,” he urged her.
Grace gawked at Wallace, then at the latch on the glove box as her hands shook. When she tugged at it, the door fell open. A small powder-blue box sat inside.
Tiffany blue
, she recognized right off. “Oh my God, you are crazy.”
“Crazy about us, and ready to prove it,” he said, with a soft kiss on her lips.
“Breathe, Grace, before you make a fool of yourself in front of this wonderful man,” she said aloud before realizing that she had. “Did I just say that?”
“Uh-huh, I heard it,” Wallace replied, smiling awkwardly.
Caught up in her surprise, Grace closed the small door with the blue box remaining inside. “I might be sorry later, but I'm not ready. We haven't even ... yet.”
“We could work backwards, have sex on this lonely highway,and then get married if you want to risk it, but I'll have to warn you, many have subscribed to that way of thinking and later wished they hadn't.” Wallace saw that Grace's mind was trying to process his proposal but couldn't. She was in a foggy state of confusion, and he saw that too. “It's like I said before, you don't have to give me your answer today. I'm yours until you tell me otherwise. Unless, of course, you don't want me.”
“Oh, wait a minute now. Let's not get out of hand,” she objected hurriedly, tears misting up her eyes. “I just need a little while to get used to the idea of you and me. I want to be sure that I'm as crazy as you are, if that makes any sense.” Grace took a tissue from her purse, wiped her eyes, exhaled deeply, and spent the next seventy miles trying to keep her hand out of that glove box.
 
 
Wallace set Grace's bags down on her doorstep. After he whispered in her ear how much he loved her she cooed like a giddy schoolgirl with a major crush. “I'll call you later,” she whispered back. “We'll talk about it, okay?”
“You know, we could go on in the house, sleep together, and get it over with?” Wallace offered in jest.
“Man, don't make me jump you right here on my driveway.Humph, you don't know me. I'd have my way with you,” Grace said suggestively.
“Yeah, I know you well enough, and I still want you for myself,” he said, kissing her again.
Grace opened the door, wanting to pull Wallace inside. Instead, she playfully pushed him away before accepting his proposition.
As Grace stepped inside, André startled her. He was sittingon the sofa with the lights off. Since he wasn't supposed to have returned home from his father-son weekend until later that evening, Grace's expression, sprinkled with grave concern, had Wallace feeling like an outsider. He determinedit was best he leave them alone to hammer out whateverit was that put such a worrisome look on Grace's face. “Call me. I'll be there,” he mouthed, pulling the door closed from the outside.
As soon as Wallace drove away, hoping that he was doing the right thing, Grace wasted no time getting to the bottom of André's distress. “Hey, Dré,” she greeted, taking a seat besidehim, “I didn't know you'd be back so soon.” Her son appearedto be locked in a catatonic trance. “Dré, I need for you to tell me why you're sitting here like this. If something went wrong between you and your dad, I want to know about it.” He looked up for the first time to acknowledge her presence,but he remained reluctant to speak. “At least you can tell me what y'all talked about, what you did together.” She hoped that Muriel wasn't the cause of her son's downtrodden disposition.
“Nothing,” André answered matter-of-factly. “We went to Footlocker, then for some eats. That was it, a bunch of nothing.”He went on to explain casually how he played with the girls and hung out at the house mostly. Eventually, he divulged that his father took him shopping for sports gear, then took him to a sports bar where they watched an entire basketball game on the big screen before their outing took a turn for the worse. “It was a real trip, Ma, every single time I started talking about me and school and the stuff
he
missed by not being there when I was little,
he
changed the subject. All
he
wanted to know was how long you've been seeing Wallace ... uh, Mr. Peters, and how serious it is between y'all. Just before we left the restaurant, he got a phone call and argued with some man on the phone about Miss Muriel, but I couldn't tell what for because he sent me away to the car when he got mad. After all this time, Mama,
that man
still don't want anything to do with me.” André looked at Grace with sad, piercing eyes. “Are you sure he's my real daddy?” Heartbroken, all Grace could do was listen. “Well, if you ask me,” he continued, “you could've done better than him. If that man ever shows up here again, tell him I don't want to spend any more time with him; that'll make us even. I don't know how I expected a father to act. Guess I thought maybe he'd be a lot more like Mr. Peters. Humph, my daddy wasn't even close. Whew, good thing you didn't let him marry you when I was a baby. Now I see why. I'm tired, Mama, I'm going to bed.”
Although André was visibly disappointed, he dealt with everything much better than Grace did. She beat herself up over Edward's behavior for hours while trying to get Edward on the phone so she could tell him just what she thought of him but he wouldn't answer. For that, she owed Edward a stern tongue-lashing and she was going to get at him but good, despite what Muriel had to say about it. Grace had warned Edward she was willing to hurt him, if that was the only way to stop him from destroying her child. He should have believed her.
Grace left word with André where she was going and how she planned on having it out with his father once she'd gottenthere. André pleaded with her not to go, but she was determined to strike back. Considering the way Grace tore out of the garage, André had reason to be fearful. He called Wallaceand explained everything, including the gun she'd taken from her nightstand, the one she'd purchased years ago when they lived in the old neighborhood.
Wallace took down the address and told André to sit by the phone and wait. He hopped in his car and sped across town thinking of how much he'd shared with Grace, how much he loved her, and how serious he was about being there for her and for Dré as well. Grace was beside herself and driven by anger. Wallace couldn't protect her if she made it to Edward's home before he did. Luckily, he found the addressjust as Grace marched angrily up the walkway. She was cradling a black handbag and telling herself that it had to be done. None of the wonderful things she'd accomplishedin her career entered her mind. Neither did helping Miss Pearl, Skyler, or being there for André. Blinded by guilt and raw emotion, Grace couldn't see anything past retribution.
“Grace! Stop!” Wallace yelled, leaving his car parked in the middle of the street. She turned and looked through him as if he didn't exist, then quickly resumed her ascent toward the house. “Grace! Baby, please don't!” Wallace begged while sprinting up the lawn.
Suddenly, the front door flew wide open. Muriel emerged from it, running barefoot, with patches of hair torn from her head and blood streaming from several different places. “Someone has to stop it!” she screamed. “Eddie's going to kill him! The girls' father! Eddie's got him!”
Neither Wallace nor Grace understood her hysterical rants, but they did understand something had to be done. Pushing past Grace to get inside, Wallace told her to call 911. Grace clutched at his shirt to keep him from going further.
“No, Wallace! Wait for the police!” she wailed. “Wait!” Although Grace had a pistol in her bag, she didn't dream of getting Wallace involved in her personal calamity. Pensively, she stood in the doorway as Wallace raced toward a room on the first floor, where they'd overheard two men shouting ferociously.“Wallace!” she shouted while searching for the telephone. Muriel beat it up the stairs leading to the upper level when she heard her daughters crying for their daddy.
“Hello, police!” Grace yelled into the cordless phone as a thunderous gunshot sounded off the walls. She cowered to the floor, shuddering. Two additional shots exploded. Withoutregard to the 911 operator, Grace dropped the telephone when Wallace staggered into the hallway with his hands and shirt covered in blood.

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