Falling for Grace (Four Winds) (17 page)

"I think you're cracking, Grace."

She nodded.  It was possible.  She felt like she was cracking.

"I heard about the save during the storm, when you were supposed to be off-duty."

Surprised, she asked, "How did you hear about that?"

"The grateful fisherman wrote us a letter."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, oh.  You disobeyed direct orders, and put yourself in danger.  That right there is enough for probation.  And then, on top of that, whatever it was that happened yesterday…"  He looked at her, the question in his eyes.

"Yes, sir.  I still can't explain that one."  She wasn't willing to, either.  Mark would lock her up in a straight jacket if she said that she'd been caught in some sort of tug-of-war between two men, especially if she told them that one of them was a self-proclaimed archangel.  That would probably make Damien the devil, and it was an epic battle between good and evil.  Yeah, she couldn't go there with Mark.

"You're our best lifeguard, Grace.  I'm giving you a two week leave of absence, with pay.  After that, you'll be promoted to lead trainer.  No more duty for awhile."

Grace felt the prick of tears and a lump in her throat.  "No more stand?"

"None.  I need your skills, though.  I can't lose those.  But your judgment is impaired.  And apparently, your own safety is in question.  I need you to teach your skills to others."  He stood in a dismissive gesture.  "Enjoy your time off, come back ready to work.  I have a bunch of off-season recruits coming in at the end of September."

Grace left with tears in her eyes and a downtrodden heart.  She called Nicole.

"Hey, can you come pick me up?  I've got to get back to the hotel."

"I can come get you, but I've got to get back to work.  Come hang out here."

Not having a response to that, Grace agreed, reluctantly.  Yaga's was a fun, upbeat place, and she wasn't in the mood for good vibes right now.  She wanted to soak in a hot bubble bath and wallow in her misery.

Nicole sat her up at the bar, and poured Grace a beer from the tap, before floating away to wait tables. 

She hadn't told her roommates about Rafe and his crazy proclamations.  She hadn't told them about Damien drowning yesterday because she couldn't be sure it was real.  She had had a nightmare last night though, right there in the hotel room with her friends.  They had watched her recover, shooting her comforting smiles, hugging her tightly.  They knew something was going on with her, but had no idea what.

And she didn't know how to tell them.  Her life was falling apart.

She sat and drank beer, getting a warm buzz, while Nicole finished her shift.  They then picked up Bree and looked at the houses.

They settled on a cute little bungalow, three bedrooms not too far from their old house.  This one had miraculously escaped the tornado, and the flood damage had been minimal because of its elevated design.  The occupants, however, had had enough of the hurricane madness and were moving out of the area to a more temperate climate.  So the house became theirs.  They could move in two weeks.

That night, they were back in the hotel room, celebrating their find with a gallon of screw-top wine in red Solo cups, when Grace's phone rang.  She couldn't stop the pounding of her heart, as she looked at the caller ID expectantly, hoping it was Rafe, at the same time, hoping it wasn't.  She wasn't disappointed.

It was her mother.

Stifling a groan, she answer the phone, "Hey Mom.  What's up?"

"He broke up with me."  Her mother was in tears, but thankfully, she didn't sound drunk yet.

"Again?" 

"Yes."

"What happened?"  She didn't really care.  Her mother and Carl had broken up and gotten back together so many times over the past ten years or so, Grace couldn't keep count.

"I caught him cheating again."  Her voice broke with sobs, a hysterical, broken sound that almost tore at Grace's heart.  Carl was the reason Grace didn't like pretty boys.  And Rafe was just the icing on the cake.

"Well, when he comes crawling back, are you going to take him?"

Her mother's voice perked up.  "Do you think he'll come back?"

"Of course he will, Mom.  He always does.  He's like mold.  Really hard to get rid of."

"I love him so much, Grace.  I don't know what I'll do without him."

Grace blamed the dimples.

She hated to see her mother reduced to tears over that man, but it had happened more times than she could count.  Her mother was so wrapped up in the world of Carl that Grace couldn't stand it.  She'd moved out to live on her own, as soon as she could, and vowed not to become dependent on a man for her own self-worth ever since.

"Mom.  You'll be fine.  He's not worth your tears."  Never had been, as far as Grace was concerned.

"How can you say that?"

"You're worth more than this, Mom."

"Maybe I should call him and apologize…"

"Don't call, Mom.  Just wait, he'll come crawling back, and you can lose any vestiges of pride then."

Her mother sniffled again, trying to compose herself to ask the obligatory questions.  "How are you doing?  Are there any men in your life, right now?"

She had talked to her mother last month and told her about Brad then.  Apparently, she had a short memory.

"No, I broke up with Brad, so there's not anybody."

"Well, you should probably apologize to him, Grace.  Why would you do that?"

She sighed.  "Mom, I'm not apologizing to him, because I didn't do anything.  We just weren't working out.  I don't have to be with a man to have a purpose in life."  Her mother was silent on the other end of the line.  "We had a hurricane here a couple of weeks ago.  Did you watch the news?"

"No, I didn't know that.  Everything okay?"  She sounded distracted, like she was thinking about something else.

"Yes, I saved a man, spent the night in a shelter.  Our roof got blown off in a tornado, so we've got to move into a new place."

"I need to get out there and see your new place.  Maybe I can help you decorate."

She had said that about the old house, but had never made it out to look, because Carl never wanted to make the two hour drive.

"Sure Mom, that would be great."

"Well, I'll see you then."  The tears which had never left her voice, were coming back to the surface.  Maybe she was thinking about the hissy fit that Carl had thrown the last time she'd planned to come down.

"He's really not worth all this Mom."

"He's a really nice guy.  He loves me.  He just can't control himself."

"Whatever, Mom.  You're better than him."

"I've got to go."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Sweets.  Bye."

Grace hung up the phone, and looked at her friends, who'd been sitting there listening, as there was nowhere else to go.

"I need to go dancing."

They decided to go into Houston to dance because Grace needed to be lost in a sea of people.  She needed to forget she'd lost the part of her job that she loved.  She needed to forget about the Damien hallucination.  She needed to forget Rafe's insane claim of being superhuman.  She needed to forget her mother was like a needy child.  She needed her girls and some sweaty, bouncing, bonding.

They went to the most crowded dance club they could find, an overpriced, upscale club downtown with a line of men wrapped around the corner.  The girls were let in immediately.

Grace went straight to the dance floor, while Bree and Nicole grabbed some drinks.  She immediately immersed herself in the pounding beat, flashing lights, and sweaty press of bodies.  Closing her eyes, she felt the rhythm in her gut and forgot about why she was there.

Grace danced herself into a sweaty mess, then went to the bar for a bottle of water.  Gulping it down in, she looked for her friends.  Bree was in a man-sandwich on the dance floor, and Nicole was nowhere to be seen.  Grace watched Bree, as she fondled the guy’s chest in front ofher, while the guy behind her rubbed her hips.  Grace felt a pang at the memory of Rafe's hands on her hips while they'd danced.

Suddenly angry that she couldn't get the image out of her head, she watched the lights flash green, casting everything in green light.  Thoughts of Rafe grew in intensity.  Grace even thought she caught a glimpse of his face on the dance floor.  She had to get out of there.

Pulling out her cell phone, Grace went outside, where the line of guys was.  Brad answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

His voice softened.  "Hey, Grace.  What's up?"

"Nothing much.  Me and the roomies went dancing, and I missed you watching.  That's all."  She hoped she sounded flirty, even though she could kick herself for calling him.  She wasn't her mother.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

A girly giggle came through the phone and Brad's muffled, "Hang on a minute, ‘kay?"

"Oh.  You have company.  I'm sorry to interrupt."  Embarrassed, Grace blew out a breath of frustration.  Of course he was moving on.  He'd been dumped.

"Grace, wait."

"No.  It's okay.  I'll let you go."  She hung up with the full intention of doing just that.  She wasn't sure why she'd called him in the first place.  He was a good guy, but he wanted more than she was willing to give.  She felt stupid for caving and calling him anyway.  Was she that much like her mom?  Did she have to have a man to be somebody?

Sighing heavily, she turned and went back inside the club.  The green lights had transitioned to red, giving everything a maniacal cast, and she returned to the dance floor.

She typically danced with her eyes closed, feeling everything around her.  She could smell the sweat and spilled liquor, mingling with various colognes and perfumes.  She opened her eyes, briefly, and thought she saw Damien of all people.  She shuddered and closed her eyes again, trying to lose herself in the techno beat.
 
But she couldn't.  When her eyes closed, she could see the lights flashing against the back of her lids, and her heart suddenly began to pound erratically, her breath quickened, and an irrational fear of the unknown flooded her body.  Snapping her eyes open, she heard a maniacal chuckle inside her head.

Grace was convinced she was losing it.  The next thing she knew, she'd be seeing Brad everywhere she looked, and she couldn't handle anymore of the madness.
e

Twenty minutes later, she was still not lost to the rhythm and frustrated that she was still thinking about her problems, so she went back to the bar to look for her friends.

Nicole was there already, doing some sort of shot with a guy.  Grace walked up behind her, and said, "You ready soon?  I'm not feeling it."

Nicole nodded, wiping her mouth.  She turned to the guy next to her, saying, "Thanks for the shot, man.  Gotta go."  Neither one of them heard his protests as they walked off.

"I hate when guys think they can shell out five bucks for a shot, then expect to get laid afterward.  Pisses me off.  Did you see him staring at my tits?"

Grace laughed and linked her arm through Nicole's as they went in search of Bree.

They found her in a compromising position in a hallway leading to the bathrooms.  She and another guy were making out, pretty heavily against a wall, his hand up her skirt. 

Nicole tapped her shoulder, "We're ready when you are."

Groaning a little, Bree acknowledged them.  "Okay, fine, give me a sec."  She whispered into his ear, gaining a smile, then Grace and Nicole watched with amused smirks as the two lovers swapped cell phones to enter their numbers.  The look on his face, as they left, made Grace wish she could want a sane person the way he obviously wanted Bree.

Stopping at a convenience store on the way home for bottled water for everybody, Grace again thought she saw Rafe's reflection in the glass of the refrigerator case.  The sickly green pall, cast over everything inside the store, must have been messing with her vision.  The grief in his eyes made her flinch inwardly, but when she turned, there was nobody there.

She drove home silently, lost in her own thoughts while Nicole and Bree discussed their conquests.

"I really hope he calls me.  He was so hot.  And a great kisser."  Bree was positively swooning in the back seat.

Nicole turned to face her.  "If he doesn't call, promise me you won't call him."

"Why not?"

A sigh escaped.  "It's too needy."

"Why is it needy if I call him, but not if he calls me?"

"He's supposed to be the one calling.  He's the man."

"That's sexist."  Bree pouted.

"Whatever."  Nicole's favorite retort.

"You're just jealous."  Grace was.

"No, I'm not.  I'm pragmatic."

"I don't even know what that means." Bree huffed
an exasperated swish of air from the back seat, that Grace felt on the back of her neck and inwardly giggled at the pair.

They continued on in this vein the rest of the trip back to the hotel room, Grace only halfway listening.