The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2) Read online

  “Evie, slow down. Breathe.” I heard her give a sad and nervous laugh, but then she inhaled and exhaled, loud enough for me to hear her. “Okay, so you’re coming to Florida and you want to go to Disney World?”

  “We thought it would be fun. Have they been yet?”

  “Yeah, but it was almost two years ago and I mean, come on, it’s Disney.” The air in my SUV was stifling. Even after almost three years I hadn’t learned to crack my windows. I started the car and cranked the air-conditioning.

  “So you wouldn’t mind if we came for a visit?”

  “Of course not.” I heard a girly squeal and could picture Evie bouncing up and down, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her. It had taken a while for the ache to go away every time I thought about her, so I was glad when picturing her didn’t make me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. Hearing Evie happy made me happy. We could add that to the list of things we never thought would happen: perhaps I’d managed to release the weird hold I’d had on Evie since we were in college. But then again, I never actually had her to begin with.

  Chapter Three

  Grace

  “You’ve made a terrible mistake,” I said to myself, turning my car into a spot at Marco’s. I’d been telling myself variations of that same sentiment the entire drive there. “Nothing good can come of this,” I mumbled, putting the car in park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

  He’d looked almost exactly as I remembered him, which was surprising seeing as how the last time I saw him he was standing in the dark, crying. His hair was blond. He was tall and broad. Well-built. Big, but not overly bulky. Back in Fairbanks he’d been wearing a light jacket when I found him crying against the wall of the school, but tonight he’d just been wearing a polo shirt. My eyes had immediately been drawn to the way his sleeves stretched across his biceps, which were large and defined.

  “Oh, my goodness. This is a terrible idea.” I let my forehead rest against the steering wheel, trying to give my thoughts an opportunity to settle. I couldn’t not go in. He was a parent. He’d think I was rude. But he was a parent. Certainly I couldn’t meet a parent at a bistro on a Friday night, for no academic purpose. This had to be against all kinds of rules.

  But even though there were a million reasons not to go in, I still felt compelled. There was something about him that pulled at me. There was this strange need to make sure he was all right. After three years of thinking about him, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to talk to him.

  It was with that small goal I opened my car door and climbed out, making my way to the bistro.

  Mr. Roberts was standing just inside the doors, hands in his pockets. He turned to me as I walked in, and smiled. For just one moment I was breathless. He was truly beautiful. Without my permission, my lips tipped up and smiled in response.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t show,” he said quietly as I approached.

  “That would be rude.”

  “But understandable. This probably isn’t technically allowed.” His smile turned sheepish as he shrugged.

  I didn’t respond because I didn’t really know what to say. He was right. This wasn’t allowed. But, as far as I was concerned, it was completely innocent.

  Mostly innocent.

  “There’s a great spot in the back. They’ll bring us a menu.” I waved a hand and indicated I wanted him to follow me. Luckily, my favorite table was available. This was a great spot, but it wasn’t exactly a happening place. On a Friday evening there were a lot more exciting places for people to be.

  Just as I’d said, as soon as we were seated a waiter brought us both water and a menu.

  “This is a nice place,” Mr. Roberts said, looking around.

  “I come here most Fridays. They’re really friendly and let me sit here for hours. In fact, they’re probably wondering what I’m doing here with another person. I’ve always been alone.” I said the words and then felt the stinging in my gut. I hadn’t always been alone, but the sentence made me feel empty anyhow. “I mean, I’ve never come here with another person.”

  “The idea of going to a restaurant alone seems both terrifying and wonderful.” He smiled again.

  “It’s peaceful, that’s for sure. But it’s lonely sometimes,” I said honestly. Being lonely wasn’t the worst thing a person could be.

  He was quiet for a moment as he looked over his menu, but then said softly, “It’s funny, because my idea of lonely is probably very different than yours. Or most people’s, for that matter.”

  I took his words as a sort of invitation to talk about what was on my mind. “How’ve you been? You know, since I saw you last?” He exhaled loudly and I realized he might not want to talk about it. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but I wasn’t lying when I said I think about you all the time. I wonder about you.” I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “You were really upset.”

  “I should have never tried to go that night. It was a bad decision.” He ran a hand through his blond hair and I watched it fall right back into place. “Olivia had only been gone a short while. I hadn’t anticipated how it would feel to see married couples, parents, at an event like that. It just kind of struck a nerve, you could say.”

  “Wow,” I said wistfully. “I can’t even imagine.”

  “You were very gracious that night,” he said as his eyes met mine.

  “All I did was hand you a few Kleenex.”

  “Yeah, but you could have just kept walking. You could have ignored me.”

  “You would have been fine.”

  “Probably, but you didn’t know that. Not everyone would stop to help a perfect stranger.”

  His praise was making me uncomfortable, displayed by the blush on my cheeks. “And what are the odds that you and I both end up in Florida three years later? Meeting at another elementary school?”

  “It is peculiar, isn’t it?” he said, smiling again. He clasped his hands and rested his elbows on the table, peering at me over his hands. “My parents have lived here my whole life. After Olivia died, just a little while after my breakdown at the parent-teacher conferences, I decided to move back home to be close to them, so they could help with the kids.”

  “It’s great that you have that kind of support system.”

  “Yes, but why are you here?”

  I brought my water glass to my mouth, sipping slowly, trying to find the right words. “Things in Fairbanks didn’t work out. I’d spent a summer here once when I was younger.” I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I figured it was a good place to start over.”

  “I found you. I foiled your plan,” he stated with a straight face.

  “No,” I said, laughing softly. “My plan was foiled long before you came around.”

  The waiter returned to take our order, then left us in peace once more.

  “So, there’s you and the kids, and your parents. Anyone else?” I hated the way I sounded, as if I was fishing for information. I totally was, but I wanted to sound less obvious about it. Fortunately, he continued providing information I wasn’t entitled to, without sounding put out by it.

  “I have brothers and sisters, but they’re spread out all over the country. It’s all right, though. The kids and I pretty much have it all figured out by now. My parents help a lot, but they don’t really see it as helping. They see it as just spending time with their grandkids.”

  “That’s good,” I replied. I had one more question burning through me, and it was the worst one I could think of asking, but something about Devon’s open nature and calm demeanor made me feel as though he would tell me anything. “Can I ask how she died?”

  “Breast cancer,” he said almost immediately, the words cold, as if he were trying so hard to say them without emotion. As if he were holding himself back from spitting them.

  “I’m sorry. That must have been so hard.” I’d never been close to anyone who passed from cancer, but I knew it wasn’t a quick and painless road.

  “It was. But,” he continued on a
sigh, “we’ve made it through the hardest parts. We’ll persevere.” We both paused and I had no idea where to go from there. Luckily, he kept talking. “I couldn’t help but notice there’s no ring on your finger. But there is a tan line.”

  I looked down at my ring finger before I could stop myself. Sure enough, the line was still there. It had taken a while for the indentation to go away, but finally it had. My thumb rubbed over the spot where my wedding ring used to be.

  “My husband and I split up about two and a half years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” That was a lie. “Okay, I’m a little sorry,” I stated.

  “Kids?” he asked innocently.

  “No,” I replied, trying not to let the black sludge I felt swirling around inside me seep out with my words.

  “I’m not sure whether that’s supposed to be a good thing or not. Kids and divorce is kind of rough. But kids are pretty awesome.”

  Oh, God.

  “Try a room full of thirty of them,” I said, forcing a smile on my face, trying desperately to move our conversation back to safe territory. Back to a place that didn’t make me want to drown myself.

  “Did you always want to teach elementary school?”

  And just like that we were safe on dry land.

  We talked pleasantly throughout our meal. A few times he laughed and I held my breath, waiting for the wings of the butterflies in my stomach to stop swirling, for my heart to slow to a normal pace. Toward the end of our time together, I let myself study his face. He was pretty magnificent, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just take the memory of him with me. The first man I’d met who seemed to, perhaps, have more baggage than me, but still seemed to be doing fine. Seemed to be making it through with the scars to prove it, but the life to also prove there were reasons to keep going.

  After we’d finished, he walked me to my car. “Thank you for keeping me company, Mr. Roberts,” I said as I pulled my keys from my purse.

  “Please, call me Devon.”

  “Only if you promise to call me Grace.”

  “Deal,” he said with a smile that made my breath catch.

  “Well,” I said, opening my door. “I should probably get going. Thanks again for the company.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll send that packet to school with Jaxy on Monday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “See you around, Grace.” He gave a little wave and stepped back onto the sidewalk, watching me settle into my car. I waved back as I drove away, and let out a big sigh. It had been surprisingly comfortable to share a meal with him and I hadn’t anticipated that. I hadn’t eaten a meal with a man besides family or my ex-husband in years, but Devon made everything seem light and easy.

  Nothing in my world had been easy for years.

  Chapter Four

  Devon

  “Have you ever painted your own house?”

  I’d been helping an elderly man with supplies to paint his house for over a half hour. He seemed determined, but seeing as how he was making his way through the store with a cane, I had to wonder about his ability.

  “No, I can’t say that I have. And honestly, I don’t know that I would. It’s hard work.” I watched the old man’s face carefully as I said the words, hoping they’d sink in.

  “All our kids are grown and moved across the country. I’d tell ’em to come help, but it wouldn’t do any good.”

  I pictured myself old and alone. Would Jaxy and Ruby stay close or run away as far as they could, leaving me to waste away by myself?

  “I have the cards of some pretty reputable painting companies up at the register. They hire college kids so the costs are pretty reasonable.” I knew if he decided to hire someone else to paint his house I would lose the sale, but I couldn’t, in good conscience, send an old man to paint his own house in the Florida sun that was only getting hotter by the day. The man grumbled under his breath for a few seconds, then let out an audible sigh.

  “I’m painting the house because I have to sell it. My wife died a year ago and it’s just too hard to be there anymore.”

  Oh, I hear you.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The point is, I’m painting the house because I want to sell it. I’m starting to think that if I paint it myself, it might not help my cause. I should probably hire a professional.”

  I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “A good paint job can add a lot of value.”

  “There’s no amount of money that can buy the memories of my wife in that house,” he said gruffly. “But I can’t stay there forever.”

  “Let me get you those cards.” I walked away before he said any more stupidly poignant and emotionally draining things, and headed toward the register. I’d opened the drawer below the register and grabbed a few business cards, when my phone on the counter caught my eye. The light in the corner was flashing. I activated the screen and saw I had five missed calls. Confusion and panic coursed through me. I opened my voice mail and immediately pressed Play.

  “Mr. Roberts, this is Amy from Tree Hill Day Care. I’m just calling to let you know that Jaxy hasn’t arrived yet, even though we expected him a little while ago. I haven’t heard from the school, so I’m not sure if there was a miscommunication or not, but we’re still expecting him. Please give us a call so we know you got this message.”

  “Shit,” I swore as I moved on to the next message.

  “Um, hi, Devon? Or, uh, Mr. Roberts? This is Miss Richards from North Elm Elementary. I’ve got Jax here. He’s fine and safe, but the bus that usually takes him to day care broke down on the way here. I’m still here with him, so don’t worry about that, but I just wanted to let you know. They don’t have an estimate of when or if they’ll be able to come get him, but I’m here with him and I’ll wait to hear from you. Uh, thanks.” I heard some rustling, then her voice again. “Oh, and this is my cell phone in case you’re confused by the caller ID. You can call me back here, or the school number. Either way. We’re on the playground, which is why I called on my cell. Someone will answer if you call the school. Uh, okay. I’ll shut up now.”

  The voice mail ended and I was a mixture of amused and relieved. Grace’s message made me chuckle and I was glad she had Jax and he wasn’t missing and scared somewhere on a broken-down bus.

  “Dad,” I hollered to the back of the store, where my father was in the office.

  “Yeah?”

  “I gotta go pick Jaxy up from school.”

  I walked back to the old man by the paint samples. “Here you go. I’ve heard great things about all these companies.” I handed him the cards and gave him a gentle clap on the back. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you,” he mumbled, then made his way out of the store.

  “Dad,” I repeated, sticking my head inside the office. “I gotta go.”

  “I heard,” he said grumpily. “Why didn’t the bus pick him up like usual?”

  “Broke down,”

  “Stuff like this wouldn’t happen if you’d just let your mother pick them up and take care of them like she wants.”

  I rolled my eyes and took in a deep breath. “You and Mom both did your time. You’re grandparents, not parents. She shouldn’t be picking them up and taking care of them five days a week. She should be spoiling them on Saturday afternoons and watching dance recitals. You guys already do too much.”

  “One of these days you’ll realize that being a parent never ends. Taking care of those kids is no different than taking care of you.”

  This was an unusually sentimental moment from my father.

  “Dad, I gotta go.”

  “Go, then.” He waved a hand at me as if I was annoying him. He was getting grumpy in his old age.

  When I arrived at the school I found Jaxy and Grace sitting in the shade of the tree in the front of the building. They were on a blanket with what looked like crackers, juice boxes, and a pile of books.

  “Daddy!” Jaxy jumped up and ran toward me, wrapping his arms a
round me in a running hug.

  “Hey, bud. How are you?” I clasped his face in my hands and looked into his eyes.

  “I’m fine. Miss Richards has been hanging out with me since my bus didn’t show up.” I looked up to see Grace folding the blanket they’d just been sitting on. “She gave me a snack and let me read the books only fifth graders are allowed to check out from the library.”

  “That sounds fun.” I let go of his face and took his hand in mine. “Let’s go help her pick up.” As we approached, Grace caught my eye and a smile spread over her face. She looked happy and something about seeing the smile light her up tugged at me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as I approached.

  She waved me away. “Don’t worry. It’s not a big deal. Stuff happens. It was fun to spend a little one-on-one time with Jax.” She winked at him and he giggled.

  “Let us help you,” I said, reaching for the blanket in her hands.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice softer.

  Jaxy grabbed the snack garbage and I had the blanket and books. “Lead the way,” I said, nodding toward the doors to the school. She turned and started walking, falling into step right next to me. She swiped her key card in front of the sensor and I heard the doors click. Balancing the blanket and books in one hand, I reached forward and opened the door for her. Unfortunately, and much to my embarrassment, Jaxy ran in first.

  “Jax,” I said firmly, but with a smile, “You always let girls go through doors first. You know that.” I turned to Grace, “I’m sorry. Please,” I nodded toward the door again. “After you.” Her head dipped low and I could have sworn a blush crept over her cheeks.

  “Why?” Jax questioned when we were all inside.

  “Why, what?” I asked, still a little distracted by the color of Grace’s cheeks.

  “Why do girls get to go first?”

  “Girls and women are precious, Jax. You have to protect them and treat them carefully. That means making sure they go first.”

  I could see him thinking hard about what I was saying, and finally he spoke. “Ruby can open a door just as good as I can.”