Healing Grace (8 page)

Ted grinned at the sight of his son who screamed with delight and kicked his heels when he finally touched the marmalade cat’s tail. It streaked by the boy when he almost had her cornered.

“Daddy! We almost got her!”

Ted gave him a thumbs-up. Eddy had gotten a haircut, he could see—probably yesterday when he had been working. Eddy turned five a week ago. Grace made a cake which she served with ice cream to four of his son’s favorite Sunday School friends.

Kindergarten would start soon, and Ted wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The world was so big, so scary. He wanted to keep the little guy close, not let any of the terrible things touch his innocence and break his trust.

Ted leaned back on his elbows and lifted his face to the late afternoon warmth. Grace’s flowerbed rioted around the circle she had dug, dark purple alyssum bordering the taller mix of annuals. The couple of things he recognized, cosmos and statis, swayed in the breeze.

Grace dropped by his side after a moment, gasping for breath and leaving Eddy to frolic after the cat who had left a roly-poly jumble of kittens in the playhouse. No worries there—it was now spick and span with floorboards safely repaired. Eddy’s zeal to reclaim his pet kept them wholly occupied during most of his days spent with her and filled his supper and bedtime chatter.

“Weather’s changing again,” Ted said and nodded to her. “We get a lot of snow in the winter—lake effect we call it. It’s strange to think about snow so early but, in case you’re worried, Randy usually has the place plowed. We’ll work something out to keep your driveway cleared.”

Grace studied her fingers, knit together on her lap. She ducked her head and looked at him out of the corner of her eye in a way that made his toes curl. “I didn’t know that. It’s, um, well, nice, to think that far ahead.”

As he gazed around the yard it occurred to him that the holiday season approached, too, along with the snow. He was able to be detached at this point, as if Christmas was something he could choose to have happen or not as he saw fit. Past Christmases had been dull for Eddy with only him and Randy for company, although the poor kid didn’t really know the difference. This year, though, kids in school were bound to compare.

“What’s ‘lake effect’?” Grace asked, bringing him back to the present.

Ted stretched his legs out straight and crossed his ankles. “Lake effect snow storms happen because we live so close to Lake Michigan. The air picks up extra moisture from the lake and dumps it on us. Happens with fog and rain some, too.”

“I can hardly start thinking about next month, let alone winter. Isn’t there a fall in there, somewhere? The weather’s not quite as changeable as home.”

Ted noticed her use of
home
, but he didn’t think she was aware of it. Unless she wanted to relay some subtle message, like she wasn’t planning on experiencing a Michigan winter. Maybe he’d never learn to listen right to a woman.

“It’s not as hot, either,” she was saying now. “The breeze is nice here. Does it trouble you, to feel the change in the weather like that—physically, I mean?” She tucked the skirt underneath her and clasped her knees with her arms. He envied her comfortable suppleness.

“Not so much anymore.” He flexed his leg, bending the knee and swiveling it from his hip. “It seems to be better these days. It’s good to be able to walk around easier. Swimming has helped quite a lot.” He watched his son cavorting in the yard.

“Do you,” Grace asked, emphasis on the
you
, “need to take Eddy shopping, or anything, for school? Kindergarten starts in two weeks.”

Ted slid his glaze back over to her, groaning inwardly. Shopping. With a five-year-old. He had no idea what to do. “Um, I haven’t done this before…so I thought we’d look through his clothes later this weekend.” Her legs had taken on a great bronzy tan over the summer. What he wouldn’t give to slide his hands down her smooth calves to her ankles.

Bad Dad!

Lame!

“I brought the supplies list from Miss Jones, his teacher,” he said helpfully, looking up at her. Crayons and folders he could do. He frowned at her stillness. She’d turned into a statue. Why? “You brought it up.”

She took a breath. “Well, I never did this before, either,” she said. “What makes people think any woman just knows what to do with kids? It’s one thing to let Eddy ramble all over my house and to feed him and tell him not to stick his hand inside the wasp nest and read stories to him—” She thrust herself to her feet and paced two tight circles beside him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure there’s plenty of help for you at the stores,” she finally said and abruptly went inside the house.

Ted watched her go, surprised and hurt. “What did I say?” he asked out loud. Grumpy, he struggled to his feet. “Eddy! Time to go home.”

* * * *

Grace worked out a flexible routine with the Marshalls for Eddy’s care when school began. It left her more hours to herself, something she was not looking forward to. Volunteer positions were limited, and with a natural cut in salary, working the gas station cash register was looking like her next job. She shivered at the thought.

Ted gave her an appointment calendar with his therapy and client appointments. But his next question left her unsettled.

“All right if he shows up in the mornings sometimes to wait for the bus here?” he asked.

“Do you want me to come and walk him over here?”
Shows up
and
five-year-old waiting for a bus
didn’t seem like a great sentence combo to her. What did he mean?

He alternately flushed and paled. “It’s just that… I’m pretty uncoordinated in the morning. When Randy’s not there it takes me a while to start moving.” Ted frowned and looked away. He folded his arms defensively over his chest. “I don’t want Eddy to see,” he mumbled.

“Ted…” She’d never told him about her work in Tennessee. Then again, he’d never asked, not like Shelby, who’d earned a very cautious and innocuous reply about her former job. Which no longer hurt to think about. “It won’t be every day.”

Men and their pride. “He’ll need a good breakfast.” He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Maybe he should stay here once in a while when Randy is gone, too.” Short of moving in, what else could she offer without demoralizing the man?

“Maybe.” He shuffled away. “Thanks,” he called over his shoulder.

At some point she should find out more about Ted’s illness, but the days passed and she let it go. Eddy dressed himself in the mornings before the bus came. Occasionally he would come and have breakfast with Grace, but more often he told her he wanted to stay close to his dad. The little guy eventually stayed with her after school to “help” when she needed it. They had dinner together, giving her an excuse to experiment with cooking. Really, she was so glad not to be alone every night. When Ted felt up to it he joined them. Not quite a family but more than simple babysitting. The numbness she’d wrapped around her heart had more than half melted. She no longer stomped on the little bits of love that occasionally escaped in the form of forehead kisses and hugs. Eddy would never replace what she’d lost, but maybe she could make up for what had happened by paying forward a little of her gift. As long as they didn’t know what she could do, and neither of had expectations she was certain she would fail, maybe caring about all of them some would be all right.

The last Saturday in October was chilly. She leaned on her rake in the yard to watch the child whirl among the rain of tie-dyed sunset and old hay-bale-colored leaves fluttering to the lawn. Loving Eddy didn’t make up for what she’d done, of course, but perhaps if she was good and kind and obedient God would forgive her, though she’d never forgive herself. Of that, she was unworthy. She could love them a little, help them to understand that she wasn’t a bad person, that she hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. She closed her eyes. Perhaps he wouldn’t make her—

“Let’s make a scarecrow!” Eddy, smelling of little boy and musty crackling grass jumped into her arms.

“Let’s!”

Eddy helped raid her laundry, looking for an old pair of pants and shirt they could stuff. She dragged out a tattered lawn chair from the garage for their creation.

They studied the figure slumped in the chair.

The child unconsciously copied her usual thinking pose: right leg forward, elbows bent, and hand covering chin and mouth. “He needs a head. My ball!” Eddy raced into the playhouse where they stored the summer toys and came out with an old rubber ball starting to lose its bounce. Grace found a ragged knit cap, which they stretched over it.

“Perfect! Let’s make supper. Race you inside!” She pretended to grab at Eddy who giggled as they ran through the brittle leaves in the yard. They raced up the porch steps.

“Stamp your feet, son!” They left their damp shoes at the door and went inside to the light and warmth of her cozy kitchen.

Ted stumbled in at dark. She heard the hesitant footfalls on her front porch, turned on the light, and met him at the door. His expression needed only one look before she turned to distract Eddy with her computer. She quickly found some children’s games and set him down before it, ignoring his wide-eyed wonder. The computer had been off limits before.

“Let’s see if you can beat my score,” Grace gushed out. He complied for once without question.

Ted had made it through the living room and grabbed at the entrance to the kitchen with a shaky hand. “Hey…there, Eddy.” He lurched with the next step he took. “I think I need…”

She grabbed him before Eddy saw his near tumble and led him to her room, struggling mightily with his tall frame to direct him down the hallway and angle him across the bed. She deftly pulled the cover back before he landed, making the bedstead creak. His shoulders settled in slow motion and she waited while he adjusted to being prone. When she knew he wouldn’t be sick all over her bed, she gently untied his boots and lifted his emaciated legs, accidentally coming into contact with his skin above the socks. A familiar tingle began along the webbing between her thumb and forefinger and she pulled quickly away, breathing hard and fast. How could she have forgotten? So far away from Woodside... She’d never tested the gift, of course, but assumed it wouldn’t work here. Definitely didn’t want it to. No…she’d never try it, for she would surely fail. There were other ways to take care of him. She had the knowledge—she could always use her training without the gift.

Ted moved restlessly, hissing in a breath. “I don’t know if your hands are warm or cold,” he rasped.

There was no alcohol smell on his breath; nothing else strange to indicate this behavior. Perhaps a reaction to medication? Some sort of stroke? What had happened? “What’s going on? Did you take something?”

“Nothing I shouldn’t.” He flashed a half-grin. “So tired. I forgot to eat lunch.”

“Rest, then. I’ll be back in a little while with some food for you.”

He grabbed for her hand when she turned to leave. “Wait!” His voice barely rose above a whisper. “Wait. I want, I—thank you—I want you to know that—” His voice trailed off and his shoulders began to shake.

Grace sighed and grabbed a straight chair and pulled it close. What had caused him to lose control like this? She hadn’t been able to cry about anything in two years, despite all she’d gone through. She might have wanted to, but she’d dammed tears behind her lids, where they belonged. Weren’t men the bastions of stoicism? Jonathan had never shed a tear that she recalled. Certainly her father never had.

She gently dislodged her hand from Ted’s convulsive grasp. Her legs itched to run again; right now she’d like nothing better than to run from this little family with their strange problems. Everything had happened so fast. She wanted to be left alone to build relationships for herself at her own pace. Excuses drizzled through her mind—all the reasons she should leave Michigan and go somewhere—anywhere else. Somewhere safe.

This house had been too good a deal. She moved too quickly to purchase it. She hadn’t explored the neighborhood enough. The real estate agent misled her when she said the brothers next door wouldn’t bother her. How wrong she had been. They both bothered her in different ways. She wasn’t a mother any more, not a wife, not a professional anything. Why did they have to ask her and ask her and keep asking her to do things for them? Couldn’t Ted see that she was as tired as he was?

He gasped and brought his knee up, clutching his calf.

“What do you need? What can I get for you?”

“No-nothing. Just a—spas-m. It’ll—pass. Wait.”

He gulped in air and sweat ran down his temple. She felt as helpless as she did watching a patient in labor. Not much she could do until it was time to push. Michigan? Why had God brought her to Michigan?

Grace had not counted on there being an Eddy and a Ted. The Ted who now wriggled like a fish out of water on her own bed and whose tears wet her pillow.

She breathed in and out, setting a calming tempo and urging him to follow. He slowly relaxed then sighed and turned over to look at her with eyes that gleamed in the dim lighting. “Jilly left me after the accident when the sickness started.”

He swallowed, the noise exaggerated in the dimly lit room. “The first seizure, she freaked. By the third one, she was gone. Didn’t even take Eddy. He was only a year old. What was I supposed to do?”

He was really laying it on thick, feeling sorry for himself again.

“Eddy’s been through too much for a little kid. All he’ll remember when he grows up is that he never had a mom and his dad got sick and died.”

Grace blinked at her internal burst of sarcasm and squashed her emotions into the pit of professionalism. Whatever his diagnosis, he had regained strength since she first met him. Until today, that is.

Normal life…no professional or otherwise mix of life and business. That’s what she’d craved with every cell of her person. She’d been so raw upon arrival, the wound barely scabbed over from her own losses, that she could not reach out to anyone else. That God would need her, demand that she use her gifts so soon had been repulsive, a hurt beyond deep. Another betrayal that sent her reeling.