In a Moon Smile (37 page)

'You were beautiful today. I thought about your smile all evening. I love to feel your arms around me, Grace. I feel like a young man again.'

A man named Ben had neatly printed his name near the bottom of the stationary. Chesney reached for another letter.

'I enjoyed our time together at the lake. You're quite the fisher-woman, Grace.'

Confused, she skimmed the words, trying to decipher when the letters were written. Were they from a beau in Grace's teen years before she married Richard?

'I wish we could be married, Grace.' 'I hate to be so deceitful.' 'You know, things have changed over the years.' 'People wouldn't be as judgmental as you think.'

“What's this all about?” Chesney whispered as she scooped the letters back into the envelope, tucked it under her arm and closed the attic door. She emptied the contents of the envelope on her bed and sat down to read various lines from all the letters.

‘Today, I told my grandson about you. Please don't be upset. I just wanted to share with someone how I feel about you. Please understand, Grace.' 'How does Chesney like college?’ ‘Have you heard from your son?’ 'Let's watch the moon again tonight.'

Feeling dizzy, Chesney stared at the truth on pretty paper. “These are not old letters,” she whispered. “Oh, my gosh, Grace, this love affair took place while you lived here, while I was growing up.” For a moment, she felt wounded. She felt a tiny flick of anger or maybe it was more like resentment. She wished that her grandmother had trusted her enough… But then a new thought came to mind and tears welled in Chesney’s eyes. “Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered as she wiped her wet face. “These letters mean that you weren’t really all alone for all those years. Wow, Grace.” She smiled and giggled. “You little sneak.”

Chesney leaned back against the bed pillows and laughed happily. Then she reached for another letter, envisioning Grace and Ben. Did they walk hand in hand through the meadow behind the barn? Did they sit together after dark, sipping lemonade on the back porch?

“You know what this means?” she said happily to Blossom. “It means I’m not really cursed. It means Grace didn’t spend her life alone and forgotten. It means so much about so many things.”

Early the next morning, Chesney woke with a fluttery feeling in her chest. She sat up on the side of the bed, wondering if she felt mad at Grace for keeping such a secret. But then again, how could she be angry? Her grandmother’s private life was exactly that. It was private, which meant it was none of Chesney’s business. Besides, what meant the most was the realization that Grace hadn’t wasted away out here on this land, grieving for a man who left her nearly sixty years ago. To know this now, after all the years of feeling so awful for Grace, well, it changed everything. It also changed how Chesney viewed herself. Knowing Grace was loved made Chesney risk a tiny bit of hope that she too might be loved someday by the right person and for all the right reasons. Smiling, she made her way to the shower.

By the time Dalton arrived to work, the scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the kitchen. Chesney placed some fruit on a pretty yellow plate, just because the day somehow felt festive. Knowing now that Grace was loved did amazing things for Chesney’s worn-out heart. As usual, she had unlocked the backdoor. Dalton entered the house as if he lived there too, which secretly thrilled Chesney every time he stepped into the room without knocking. Though he tried to mask the look, she clearly saw Dalton’s beautiful eyes scan her body, from the open neckline of the comfortable, fitted sundress to his boss’s bare feet and back to the bust line and then her hair, which was pulled back in its usual messy bun. His lingering look made that odd lust feeling warm her chest again. She quickly placed her hands behind her back so Dalton would not see that she was trembling. She felt ridiculous. She felt almost frightened actually, of this man who had such a profound effect on her body, her attitude and every single emotion she could ever hope to feel.

“Hey, Chez,” Dalton stepped inside and carefully placed some tools on the rug. “You look very happy this morning.” He grinned and Chesney couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “How did everything go yesterday? Bet you miss Becca already.”

Chesney nodded sweetly as she stepped past Dalton to pour a cup of coffee, black, strong, like he drank it every morning. The scent of his morning shower, a mix of aftershave and soap teased at her nose.

Dalton, I want you to say that you aren’t here today to work on the house. Tell me you’re here because you can’t stay away from me. Tell me you’re falling in love with me. That you know it sounds completely insane but your feelings are true. What would you do if I kissed you square on the mouth, Dalton Moore? What if I was so passionate about that kiss that it made you dizzy? Let’s say you felt faint. And the reaction was totally my fault because you’re just so incredibly crazy about me? And all you want to do is be my man.

Feeling like she probably needed emergency counseling for her crazy thoughts, Chesney placed the coffee cup on the table for Dalton, who was still staring at her.

“You look so pretty today,” he said.

She muttered an awkward thank you, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down across the table from him. “Seems like Deke and Becca really connected,” she said, careful to focus only on the pieces of watermelon on her plate. “Deke actually drove out here to say good-bye yesterday before Bec left for the airport. Did you know that?”

“The guy is lovesick,” Dalton grinned. “It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen Deke get excited about a woman. Poor Luke was in shock about it, too. When I got to the store yesterday to build those shelves, Deke talked nonstop about Becca. I think, well, I think it’s the real thing.”

“Oh?” Chesney’s eyes widened. “So you, um, you believe in something like love at first sight?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “If you believe in miracles, and I do, then you gotta believe in unexplainable moments in life, right? Like the moment Deke and Becca met yesterday, right here at Chesney Ridge.”

Tears filled Chesney’s eyes as she remembered the softness on Becca’s face yesterday when Deke took her into his arms. Then she thought about the love letters from Ben to Grace. She pretended to be deeply engrossed in peeling an orange and arranging the segments on her plate. She wanted love. She wanted it with all of her terrified heart.

“Do you?” Dalton was saying and Chesney’s face got hot. She stared at him, bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You looked a million miles away just now,” he smiled, but also seemed concerned. “Is everything all right with you?” She nodded and asked him to repeat the question. “I asked if you believe in love at first sight. Do you think it could be the real thing for Deke and Becca? Do you think it’s possible to meet a person and immediately know, even though you don’t know much at all about who that person really is, you just know that it’s right. You immediately feel that it’s meant to be. Do you believe that’s possible, Chez?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “But I can say that I hope it’s possible. I can say that I’d be so crazy happy for Deke and Becca if they fell in love.” She picked up Dalton’s cell phone and glanced at the time. “Gotta go,” she said quickly. “I have a few errands to run this morning and I’d rather get them done before the sun gets too hot.”

“What’s going on with you?” Dalton asked as she left the table.

“Really good stuff,” Chesney smiled. Before considering what she was doing, she planted a tiny, friendly peck on the side of Dalton’s face. “See you later.”

Chesney rushed outside to get in the old truck before she had a mental breakdown right there in the gravel. As soon as she was driving down the lane, she called Becca. “Oh my God, I just kissed Dalton,” Chesney said before Becca could even say hello.

“What? What?” Becca screeched, “Back up, go with every single detail.”

But when Chesney reported the morning events, Becca sighed loudly on the other end of the phone. “Are you just nuts or what?” she growled. “Why is it earth shattering news that you kissed the handyman on his very hot cheek? Chez, here’s the deal, okay? Call me during this horribly insane time of the morning when you can report that you stuck your tongue down his throat. Call me back when you can tell me that you lost your panties in his truck or you have hickies all over your neck or...”

“Fine,” Chesney snapped. “I get it.” She ended the call abruptly, feeling a bit bratty about it, but also embarrassed for making such a drama out of a tiny peck. Dalton probably got daily pecks from family members. Becca was right, the little kiss was not a big deal to anyone but Chesney. As she slowly drove past the hardware store, she honked at Luke, who was stacking big bags of mulch outside the entrance.

She thought about stopping in to say hello to Deke. She wanted to talk to him about Becca. She wanted to tell him that her dear friend was fragile. She might pretend to be a mega bitch, but it was all game. Becca had a beautiful, sensitive heart. Deke needed to understand that she was special. He needed to know that Chesney was trusting him to be good to Becca’s heart. She hoped that Deke would smile and go into a mushy conversation about how he fell immediately for the rather bitchy Becca Bartlett. Deke would grin and brag about how his tenderness successfully reached past all of Becca’s biggest, baddest defenses. He might insist that his commitment to Becca was immediate, foolproof, so intense that it was absolutely meant to be. No doubt about it.

“Okay, just stop,” Chesney muttered to herself as she rolled the truck window down. “Just stop thinking about Deke and Becca and Grace and Ben. Stop being so stupid about Dalton, too. You’re obviously losing your damn mind.”

She leaned back against the truck seat, deciding to clear her mind and only enjoy the short trip down the curvy country road. Already the humidity hung in the air. Her bare legs stuck to the truck seat. Her hair was damp with perspiration. She would welcome the brisk morning air of fall. She would be in love with all the beautiful colors of the new season. The hills and valleys would turn brilliant shades of gold and red.

When the small white church on the hill came into view, Chesney smiled. Dozens of times in her life, she had made this trip with her grandmother. This plain little church was one of her grandmother’s favorite places to be. Grace organized sewing groups and knitting projects with ladies in the congregation. She was in charge every Christmas to collect toys for needy children. She proudly brought Chesney to the second pew from the front in this church every Sunday morning during Chesney’s summer visits. And now, Grace was laid to rest in the small cemetery under the trees. Since moving to Bean Blossom, Chesney visited the grave many Sunday afternoons. A few times she waved as familiar faces slowly made their way out the double doors after the service ended. Chesney always walked across the gravel parking area to greet Neetie, Grace’s dear friend.

“Feel free to visit any Sunday, dear,” Neetie always said sweetly when they met. “Then after church, you can follow me home and stay for lunch with my family.”

Chesney always appreciated the kind invitation. But she hadn’t yet mustered the courage to step inside the church again. Even though Grace had been gone for so long, Chesney still couldn’t bear walking in without Grace beside her. On Sundays, she visited Grace’s grave around the time for the service to end. She loved to see the people. She loved the hugs and kind words. But today was Tuesday. And today, Chesney knew the cemetery would be free of visitors. She wanted to sit alone next to Grace’s headstone today and love their many memories. She sometimes wanted to talk aloud to the headstone on Grace’s grave. Today was one of those days. She wanted to talk about Ben. She wanted to tell Grace how happy she felt, just to know that Grace had indeed shared her heart. As she found a place to park the old truck, her thoughts drifted once again to the beautiful, full lips of her handyman.

“Don't worry, Mr. Moore,” Chesney mumbled. “I’d never actually act on one of my big fantasies. We both know if I kissed you, I'd probably hyperventilate. And that certainly wouldn't be romantic, would it?”

On most Sundays, Grace’s grave was decorated with daisies, her favorite flower. Chesney assumed that Neetie or another one of Grace’s longtime friends placed the daisies on the grave before church service started. To go with the fresh bouquets of lovely white daisies, Chesney often brought yellow daisies with some baby’s breath in the mix.

Next year she would bring flowers from Chesney Ridge. Next year she would devote her time to the grounds. Those lovely wild flowers from the garden near the pond would be gorgeous. Chesney would never come here without a huge bouquet in hand. Now though, a new thought entered her mind. What if Neetie wasn’t the person who decorated Grace’s grave? What if the friends from church weren’t actually the people who left daisies every week? Suddenly a brilliant joy filled her chest. What if Ben, the letter writing lover stopped here? What if he was a member of this community? But then again, Chesney had no idea if Ben was even alive.

There you go again, skipping right down the closest road to psychosis.

She sank to her knees beside Grace’s grave and wiped grass clippings from the headstone. The granite was warm from the morning sun as Chesney traced her grandmother’s name etched into the stone. She stared for a long moment at the full name, 'Grace Chesney Blake.'

“I worried for years that you were lonely,” Chesney whispered. “I’m sorry you never felt that you could share that part of yourself with me, but that's okay. To know now, well, it makes all the difference in the world.”