Noble Pursuits (6 page)

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Grace rarely beat about bushes.

“She’s so precious—and Roger never saw it. All he could see was bills, sleepless nights, potty training, toys on the carpet, and that I wasn’t as ‘polished’ as I was before she came along.” Marci fought tears.

“Care to hear what I think, Marci?” Grace was blunt, but she wasn’t tactless. She knew when to speak out and when to ask first.

“I’m better off without him?”

“Amber is better off not seeing him reject her day in and day out. It happened once, not repeatedly.”

Marci knew that Grace was right. Marci’s own father had been emotionally and sometimes physically detached as she’d grown up. Marci didn’t want that for her little girl. Perhaps the clean break would turn out to be a better thing.

With tearful and silly goodbyes, Marci drove toward the airport while Grace and Amber rode home. They debated fish sticks over grilled cheese and salad over celery sticks. Grace was at peace. She may not have children, but she could be a substitute mommy now and again, and that was a beautiful thing.

~*~*~*~

“Amber! That’s my brother on the machine. Mrs. Buscher is having her baby! They’re at the hospital right now. Let’s pray that everything goes smoothly, and that babykins shows up soon, shall we?” Grace danced about, thinking of the new baby.

They prayed, ate, and began marathon applesauce making. After a time, Grace noticed that Amber seemed to be losing interest. “Amber, why don’t you go play out front with the soccer ball? I’ll be done here soon, and then we can play a game.”

Amber ran to the toy closet and pulled the ball from a box of “outside” toys. Soccer was the little girl’s passion. Between playing on two different teams, and watching every televised event that she could find, Amber seemed unable to tire of the sport. Marci joked that it was a beautiful way to kick out her frustrations, and though it was a tricky juggle of her work schedule, she supported Amber’s dedication to it.

“Grace, you need to go to more of her games. Marci probably misses a few, and it would mean a lot to Amber if you went. Now find out when her next three games are, and get them on your calendar.” Grace’s mutterings to herself tended to serve as a mental reminder of what needed doing, and though she received a few raised eyebrows at the grocery store and the dentist’s office, she never seemed to mind.

Grace giggled as she observed Amber attempting to con Nolan into a game. The enchanting little girl sweet-talked him from his car, and moments later, they chased the checkered ball across the yard. From her window, Grace saw Nolan straining from his exertions, but, with an excellent display of sportsmanship, he continued to play despite his obvious desire to quit. His slippery dress shoes didn’t make the job any easier.

Amber was incapable of exhaustion, or so it always seemed. She ran Nolan ragged. She wouldn’t coax the poor man into a “pick up” game again anytime soon! Never knowing the meaning of the word quit, she went in for the kill and scored a goal, right between Nolan’s ankles.

When Grace saw Nolan collapse on the lawn, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his forehead, she went into action. She made lemonade and placed it on a tray with three glasses. Opening the pantry for some napkins, Grace jumped, screamed, and then went on a rampage. Nolan and Amber, concerned that a rabid dog, or something equally horrifying, had attacked Grace, rushed into the kitchen. Initially, it wasn’t apparent to them what the problem was, but Grace literally threw items out of the pantry, searching for something. At the sight of Nolan’s shoes, she grated between clenched teeth, “Get me the broom hanging beside the fridge, will you?”

“Is everything alright?” Nolan asked tentatively as he passed her the requested broom. Amber slowly backed into the living room while tugging on his sleeve.

“Mr. Burke.” Amber tugged at his sleeve. Let’s go back outside.”

Nolan whispered back in typical overloud male style, “What is it?”

“
Mice
. That’s what it is.
Mice
! Who do they think they are?” Grace’s tone was angry, appalled, and terrified all at once.

Nolan watched in awestruck fascination as Grace tore apart the pantry searching for the mouse and his home. She was a whirlwind; being a good fifty pounds overweight hid her energy. This woman had strength, energy and passion, and all over a mouse in her pantry. Nolan had never witnessed anything like it.

Suddenly, the mouse scurried past her toe and darted across the floor. The broom came down with a sharp “whap” near Nolan’s foot seconds before the mouse darted behind the refrigerator. “Ha! Gotcha now, you nasty little beast!”

Grace was on her feet and dragging the fridge away from the wall before Nolan could offer to help. She narrowly missed tripping over a can of pumpkin before bringing the broom down hard on top of the mouse. The critter had foolishly decided that it was time to make a run for it, but that was precisely what Grace had anticipated. With a final squeak, after several more vicious beatings, the mouse lay still at her feet.

Nolan didn’t know what to do next. Should he offer to help? He didn’t know. Some women would love the help, but others would resent it. Before he could decide, Grace shuddered. “Can you please get that thing out of here?”

Nolan snapped his head up and eyed Grace. She looked exhausted and emotionally wiped out. “I’d be happy to. Why don’t you go sit down?”

Grace stepped over the offending rodent with a goofy little side step dance and collapsed into her favorite chair in the living room. While she rested, Nolan and Amber worked on cleaning up the kitchen. Amber told stories about Grace’s encounters with mice.

“They come from the fields across the road there… she hates them, Mr. Burke. She goes from being herself to totally freaking out! I mean, I saw her jump on one once. After she squished him, she barfed in the sink. It was so gross.”

“I see. Well, it looks like she got this one. He won’t be bothering her any more…or do mice have more than one ‘life’ like cats? Let’s wash off the shelves and put this stuff back for her. Ok?”

A short while later, Grace opened her eyes and saw a glass of cool lemonade with two sweet hazel eyes peering over the top of it. “Miss Gracie? Want some lemonade? The kitchen’s all clean and pretty, so you can relax and enjoy it. Mr. Burke and me will go play outside and let you rest if you want…”

Grace tried hard not to laugh. “Go outside and play, honey, I’ll get to work on the kitchen. I have a few things that I need to do now. Thank you for picking everything back up.”

“We washed the shelves too. Just in case…it…was on them.” Amber’s eyes looked too wise for her years.

Grace sent Amber back outside with Nolan before attacking her kitchen with a vengeance. Experience told her that where one mouse was, more were likely to follow. Armed with several boxes of zip-lock bags, Grace began to secure her domain. She rinsed all of her silverware in bleach water, dried them, and bagged them. Her tea, crackers, and other “open” containers she also bagged. She bagged the butter crock, sugar bowl, and salt and pepper shakers. There wasn’t an empty plastic storage container in her entire kitchen by the time she finished.

Nolan looked up in surprise when he heard the back door slam shut. Grace carried her broom in one hand and a bottle of disinfectant cleanser in another. Fascinated, he stared as she poured half the bottle of cleanser over the bristles and then swept it into them by fiercely sweeping the broom back and forth on the driveway, apparently trying to rub the solution into the broom. Finally, she rinsed the broom with the hose.

“Getting out the gore?” Grace heard Nolan’s taunt from across the lawn but continued in her cleansing rite.

“Aww, come on, Grace, the poor broom is clean already! Give the thing a chance!” Nolan’s wheedling voice seemed to make no impact on Grace.

By the time he reached her side, he saw that things were much worse than he had realized. Grace wasn’t just angry over the mice; she was terrified. Her knuckles gripped the broom like a pair of vice grips. He eased the broom from her hands and drew Grace back into the house. Grabbing an afghan from the back of the couch, Nolan led her to the recliner, tucked the blanket around her, sat on the floor beside the chair, and prayed.

Grace mumbled something about finding the money for an exterminator and then something about protecting her fruit before falling into an exhausted sleep. Nolan stood and watched her for a moment. Did she expect an exterminator to be open on a
Sunday
? As he headed into the kitchen to consider how to protect the fruit, he realized that Grace had been talking to herself again. A bemused smile crept over his features as he went outside to rejoin Amber.

“Does Grace often talk to herself?”

Amber snickered as she practiced dribbling across the yard. “She carries on entire conversations by herself… she even repeats the conversation with different answers and stuff. It’s like she practices what she might have to say or something.

Amber gave an impish little smile before adding, “And she is funny sometimes too! I heard her talking once; she was really letting some company have it for not sending the right stuff and then charging her for it and the right stuff too. When I went in, she was making her bed… and there was no phone anywhere!”

Nolan chuckled at the mental picture but quickly sobered. “I don’t want to sound like I am reprimanding you, but… well, some people might call it gossip to tell a story like that. I shouldn’t have asked. Forgive me?”

Amber looked at him curiously before nodding cautiously. “Do you really think Miss Grace would mind? She is always making fun of herself for her ‘inside conversations.’ I didn’t know it was wrong to talk about it.”

“Well, technically it might not be wrong to have told me that story, but my asking was tempting you to gossip…and in the very strictest sense, talking about Grace, with her not here, could be considered gossip.” Nolan paused to try to clarify his thoughts. How do you explain gossip to a child who wouldn’t consider maligning her friend?

“So, just in case someone thinks you are being mean, you shouldn’t talk about them unless they are there?” Amber seemed fascinated by the direction that the conversation had taken.

“That’s right.” Nolan’s relief was evident.

“But how would they know you talked about them if they aren’t there?” Amber’s eyes began to look suspicious.

“That is the point, Amber. If who you spoke to mentions the conversation, then the person, if they felt gossiped about, might not feel comfortable talking to you anymore. See?”

Amber looked as if she had another question, but before she could ask, remembered something. “
Wait!
We forgot all about Mr. and Mrs. Buscher! They are having their baby right now. It might be here. Miss Grace wanted to go see them when the baby came. Should we go see for her?”

Nolan laughed at the little girl’s obvious delight in her scheme. “Well, there are two problems with that. First, I can’t take you anywhere without Grace’s permission, and secondly… well… I think that her brother will call her as soon as that baby arrives. What we can do though, is go inside and make dinner.”

“We could take some to Mr. and Mrs. Buscher too! Hospital food is yucky!” Amber’s face was comical. It seemed as though she was no stranger to the bland fare of institutional food.

Inside, Nolan stood before the sparse refrigerator, hands in pockets and tried to figure out what could be made with the scanty contents. There was leftover chicken soup, and sandwich fixings, but not enough to take to the hospital. The freezer showed more promise, but it was nearly empty as well, and there was no time for defrosting.

“Looks like we’ll have to be creative, Amber. You see if you can find a clean box and a towel to put hot food into, and I’ll go see what I have at home to contribute to dinner.”

~*~*~*~

Grace heard ringing and wondered sleepily what it was. She struggled to wake up and climb out of her chair. Nolan brought her the phone before she could become fully coherent. “H’llo?”

Grace listened for a moment and looked around the room with fuzzy eyes. “Amber? Your mom’s on the phone. Do you want to talk to her?”

As Amber prattled on about her soccer game, the mouse, and their current preparations for dinner for Craig and Melanie and the upcoming birth, Grace rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched. Dinner smelled wonderful and caused a rumble in her stomach. “Hungry, Grace?”

Grace smiled at him. “What are you cooking… that smells
great
!”

“Lemon Pepper chicken. Just chicken, rice, snow peas and a brothy sauce over it. Have a seat; it’s almost done. We were thinking about taking some to the hospital for Craig.”

Grace sat at her table and enjoyed the aroma of the plate of food that Nolan placed before her. Nolan glanced at Amber, who was cheerfully chatting at her mother and suggested they pray without her. “She’s busy with her mom. We’ll pray for her.”

As they raised their heads to begin eating, Amber bounced over to Grace. “Mommy wants to know if you need anything from Chicago.”

Grace started to shake her head but remembered Cade’s accident and took the phone. “Marci… do you know if there is some kind of discount sports store there where you could find an affordable Cub’s jacket?”

For the next few minutes, the two women bantered back and forth on the exact description of the jacket, and if Marci would let Grace repay her for the jacket. Visibly exasperated, Marci eventually shook her head and crossed her arms. “Grace. What I’ll have to pay for this is half what it would cost me to have left Amber with a sitter, and she’s having a blast. You’re still giving me a gift by taking care of my daughter; let me pay for the jacket. You’ve more than earned it already. I’ll pick up Amber tomorrow night sometime after seven.”

Before Grace could argue, Marci hung up. Her face was masked with frustration. “I’ll figure this out. She won’t get away with it that easily.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“She doesn’t want to let me pay for Cade’s new jacket. How can I give someone a gift that someone else paid for?”