Restoration (13 page)

Drew smiled. “Sunday at teatime, then. I’ll swing round to collect you.”

“Drew, what time is tea time?” She felt silly asking.

“I’ll be here at half-past three.” He winked and dropped a kiss on her lips.

Grace smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in her dress for the millionth time as she waited f
or half-past three.

“Nervous?” Valerie asked from her perch on the arm of the couch.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“Met a guy’s parents?”

“Right.”

Valerie looked confused. “You know John’s family.”

“Yeah, but I’ve known them since I was a kid. This is different.”

She glanced back at the mirror. Her hair was smooth and shiny, makeup tasteful, and her dress was just the right blend of flirty and demure.

“They’ll love you. You look amazing.”

She nodded and swallowed the nerves that threatened to bubble up in the form of hysterical giggles. Her stomach was in knots as she watched the clock slowly creep toward three-thirty.

“You already know his dad. Calm down.” Valerie’s face was a mix of pity and amusement.

“I know, I know.” She blew out a tense breath. “He’ll be here soon. Are you sure I shouldn’t change into something different?”

“Sit down and shut up or I’m locking you out on the porch.”

Drew knocked on her door promptly at three-thirty and they were off. She clutched his arm so tightly that he actually had to ask her to loosen her grip more than once during their walk.

They approached the door to his parent’s house and he rang the bell once.

“Calm down, love. They’re not going to murder you. In fact, I’m sure they will love you as much as I do.” Drew tensed as his words hung in the air.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and she opened her mouth to say something when, mercifully, the door to the house swung open. They were greeted by Mary Tensley, her eyes bright, but her body obviously frail. Her dark hair was streaked with gray and cropped short. Drew had mentioned that she’d stopped her treatments six months ago because she didn’t want to die completely bald.

Mrs. Tensley pulled Drew in for a fierce embrace, despite his towering height. She couldn’t be more than five-foot-two, at least a foot shorter than her son. Drew bent down to wrap his arms around his mother and Grace’s heart squeezed at the sight.

“Hi, Mum,” he said softly.

As Mary released him from her arms, she leveled her eyes on Grace.

“You must be Grace. Lovely to meet you, dear.” She smiled warmly. “Well, come in you two. The kettle is on and I’m starved.”

Mary ushered the pair inside and closed the door behind them. The house was warm—too warm for Grace’s comfort. Beads of sweat began forming on the small of her back and she removed her coat immediately, followed by her heavy cardigan.

“Sorry it’s so hot. Mum is cold all the time now, even with the fire blazing,” he whispered in her ear as he took her coat and cardigan.

“It’s fine. Layers,” she said, motioning to the cardigan.

He winked and led her into the sitting room where his father was just setting out the sandwiches and tea cakes.

“Ah, Grace, it’s lovely to see you again.” His cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the house.

“Mr. Tensley. Nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t be daft, you silly girl. Just because you and my son here can’t keep your hands off one another, there’s no need to stand on ceremony. Call me David just as you always have.”

“Dad!” Drew’s ears burned red.

She worked hard to control her own mortification. “David, then.”

Mary bustled in with a tray, laden with a large teapot and four porcelain cups and matching saucers. Drew rushed over to take the heavy tray out of his mother’s hands.

“Stop that. I can take care of this myself.”

“So can I, Mum. Go have a sit-down and I’ll do the tea.”

He placed the tray in the center of the table and poured her some tea, added two sugars, and set the fragile cup and saucer on the small side table next to Mary.

“Thank you, darling,” she said and turned her attention to Grace. “He’s always been such a good boy.”

Drew shook his head and poured Grace a cup of tea. She took the offered cup and added sugar and some cream, pouring slowly so she could watch the ribbon of white blend gracefully with the dark brown liquid. They ate the sandwiches and cakes Mary had prepared while Drew and David talked about prospects for the upcoming football season.

“So, Grace, tell us a bit about yourself,” Mary prompted.

“Well, I’m from Virginia. I grew up there, in a small town called Golden Beach. Um, I went to college for architecture and started at Bidwell AIA as soon as I graduated.”

Mary nodded. “I’ve not been to America before. Always wanted to travel to Las Vegas.”

“That’s not true, Mum. You and Dad just got back from Hawaii a few months ago.”

“That doesn’t count. Hawaii isn’t even attached to America. I want to see the lights, Elvis, the spectacle of it all.”

“I’ve been there, just the airport, actually,” Grace interjected. “We were traveling to Seattle for my uncle’s wedding and had a layover. They have slot machines in the airport.”

“Good lord, do they really?” Mary burst out laughing.

Grace chuckled and turned to Drew as realization hit her. “So that
was
you at baggage claim when I arrived.”

“What?”

“Nothing, never mind.” She realized he wouldn’t remember their first encounter as well as she did. “How long have you two been married?” Grace reached for a mini cupcake.

“Forty-six years this coming June.” David’s face beamed with pride.

Drew reached over and took Grace’s hand.

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s amazing in this day and age.”

Grace smiled as she thought of her own parents who’d been married almost thirty-four years.

Drew tensed slightly.

Mary looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “We don’t all find the one we’re meant for the first time around. David and I were lucky.”

“Grace, love, I’m curious. What makes a young woman leave her home and family? Didn’t you have a bloke? I’m sure a stunner like you would’ve had ‘em lining up,” David teased.

Her gaze fell to the delicate pattern of violets that ringed her teacup. “No, not anymore.”

“Dad,” Drew warned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I said something amiss?”

“No, it’s fine.” Grace lifted her face and steeled herself for the pity she was sure would follow her next statement. “There was someone, but he died last year.”

Mary’s dark eyes widened and she brought her hand to her heart. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I actually came out here to take time away from everything. You know, to move on. The opportunity was too good to pass up,” she said, a bright note in her voice, hoping it didn’t sound too forced. The pity that shadowed the faces around her made her feel that familiar twinge of panic, laced with hysteria.

“Anyway.” She glanced at the clock. “I should probably be going. It might be Sunday, but there are a lot of emails I need to answer by tomorrow morning. It was so nice to meet you, Mary. I hope to see you again soon.”

Grace set her teacup down and stood, gathering her cardigan and coat while Drew said goodbye to his parents. He walked her back to the cottage, his hand never leaving her lower back.

“I’m sorry about that. I hadn’t told them.”

“It’s all right. I’m just so used to everyone knowing about John. I forgot they would have no idea. I’ve got to get used to talking about it.” She leaned into his side as they continued down the street.

“I think they liked you.”

“Really? Even after I was so rude?”

“Yep.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get you home so I can teach you some manners.”

Chapter 14

December snuck in like a thief in the night, bringing with it freezing temperatures. Grace’s feet felt like ice, even through her wool socks, as she waited for the fireplace to spread warmth outward and heat the house. Little as it was, the cottage took a long time to warm.

Whoever built this thing must not have planned on ever living here in the winter. Who doesn’t put a furnace in a house?

Her annoyance only grew as the fire sputtered and died for the third time that morning. “Damn!” She reached for another fire starter and lit it. She watched as the little flame spread along the triangle of logs she’d created, finally catching and casting a cheery glow in the fireplace.

“Thank you!” she said as she turned toward the kitchen and her waiting coffee press, full of freshly brewed deliciousness.

With her moods teetering on the edge between amiable and psychotic lately, poor Valerie had taken to vacating the premises as soon as she woke to avoid her. Today was John’s birthday, usually celebrated in some elaborate fashion with most of his firehouse buddies.

It was also Drew’s birthday and she had wracked her brain trying to figure out what to do for him. After much deliberation, she’d finally decided on a pair of tickets to a scotch tasting in London. It wasn’t until February, but she knew he’d love it.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her robe, just as she lifted the carafe to pour her coffee. She answered curtly without looking to see who was calling.

“Grace McConnell.”

“Good morning, love.” Drew’s voice was smooth and soothing after the frustrations of the uncooperative fireplace.

A smile spread across her face. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. And how are you this lovely morning?”

“Grumpy and uncaffienated.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not even a word.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t really care right now. I’m about to have some coffee. Want me to put some tea on for you? You could come by and get your birthday present.”

“No, as tempting as that sounds, I can’t this morning. I’ve got breakfast with Mum in a short while. We always have breakfast on my birthday.”

“Oh, okay. Have fun. Tell your mom I said hello.” She worked hard to keep the disappointment from her voice.

“I was actually hoping you’d come with me.”

“Well, um, sure. If you think she won’t mind.” The last thing she wanted to do was intrude on Mary’s time with her son.

“It was her suggestion.”

“In that case, I’ll go get ready.”

“Fantastic. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

As they walked up the street to the Tensley home, they were greeted with the ominous flashing of emergency vehicle lights outside the house. Drew dropped her hand and sprinted to the door, flinging it open and barreling inside. She followed close behind him, worry creasing her brow.

The scene was chaotic. Mary lay on the floor in the sitting room, unresponsive while one paramedic performed CPR and another took her pulse. David was sitting with his head in his hands, watching helplessly as his wife was dying.

Drew made his way to his father and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

David raised watery eyes to look at his son. “She just collapsed. Stopped breathing. I . . . I didn’t know what to do. She was fine yesterday.”

“She’ll be okay. She has to.” Drew’s voice was laced with fear.

Grace’s heart was racing as she watched the paramedics work to save Mary. They continued CPR as she was loaded onto a stretcher and into the waiting ambulance. Drew helped his father into the back of the ambulance and stood still as a statue as they drove off, lights flashing.

She reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it so tightly she almost cried out. He turned his eyes to hers and she saw the pain and fear threatening to spill over.

“I’ve got to go. I’m so sorry.” His voice broke as he said the words.

She shook her head. “No apologies. Call me when you know something?”

He nodded, his lower lip trembling. “Thank you,” he said, his words barely a whisper.

She lifted his hand and kissed it, hard.

With one last look, he turned and jogged off in the direction of his house and waiting car.

Grace came home to a still, cold house, and a French press full of acidic and over-brewed coffee. She set about cleaning up the coffee and re-brewing while she waited for the fire to catch for the fourth time that morning. When the fire was burning steadily and her coffee was ready, she poured a large cup and sat in the living room with her phone resting on the arm of her chair. An hour had passed without word from Drew and every minute that ticked by made her heart sink. She knew that more time meant bad news in most cases. Her fingers drummed against the arm of the couch impatiently.

When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she got up, walked purposefully to her room, and put on her running clothes. Lacing up her shoes, she grabbed her phone and zipped it securely in her jacket pocket, threading the earbuds from the inside.

She ran at a punishing pace, music blasting, her joints protesting the forceful jarring and the lack of any warm-up time. The cold bit at her ears and cheeks, but she didn’t care. She ran until she thought her chest would burst and finally, heaving for breath, she leaned over, hands on her knees. When she’d leveled her breathing, she started walking, consciously trying to lower her heart rate slowly.

As she surveyed her surroundings, she found herself in front of the Braley Anglican church doors. Since losing John, her faith had disintegrated. Raised in a household of lapsed Irish Catholics, her knowledge of religion was spotty at best. Her father would suddenly become devout during the Easter and Christmas seasons and they would attend mass each week until he was tired of going. She tried to go at least once a month up until John’s death. After he was gone, she felt nothing but anger and resentment while she sat through mass.

Despite her crisis of faith, her feet led her to the doors of the church and to the altar rail. She crossed herself and knelt to pray for the first time in over a year.

Please, please give them more time. Please don’t take her from him yet.

As she left the church, her heart felt marginally lighter. She’d done what little she could for Drew and his family. Now all she could do was wait. Her phone rang as she was walking back home.

“Drew?”

“She’s stable.” His voice was shaky.

“That’s wonderful. Oh, Drew, I’m so glad.”

“They’re talking about Hospice care. The doctor said she’s only got a few weeks. She might make it through Christmas.”

“Do you need anything? What can I do?”

“No . . . no. I’m coming home now.” His voice trembled, thick with tears, breaking her heart. “She’s being kept overnight and possibly for one more day while they level off her calcium. Once that’s back to normal, she’ll come home.”

“Can I come to you?”

“I’d like that very much.” His voice was soft, more controlled.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Yeah. Quite right,” he said, and the line clicked.

The weeks that followed were rough on Drew.
His mother was deteriorating before his eyes. Grace was frustrated as she could do nothing but stand by and watch. He spent most of his time with his parents, leaving the store to be tended by the assistant manager. She visited Mary when she could. Quite often, the two of them talked over tea and biscuits. With each visit, Mary’s energy dwindled, reminding her of the slow burn of an ember, gently fading until it was cold.

“I’m heading out to see Mary. Do we need anything from Ten’s on the way home, Val?” Grace called up the stairs from the entryway.

“No . . . Ouch . . . Oof, damn.”

“Are you all right in there?”

“I’m fine. Just . . . decorating my tree.”

“Sounds like the tree’s winning.” Grace chuckled, glad for a little levity.

“So far.”

December was in full swing. With just a few days left until Christmas, there were festivities going on all over town. The town square was decorated with a towering evergreen, filled with lights and ornaments, awaiting a coating of powdery snow. Grace always loved this time of year, and the sight of Braley, decked out and in full holiday mode, made her smile as she walked the few blocks from her cottage to the Tensley home.

As she approached the house, she could make out Drew’s figure, balancing precariously on a ladder and hanging Christmas lights on the gutters.

“Bollocks,” he muttered as the lights slipped and he bent to reach them.

Her eyes lingered on his backside, encased in well-worn faded jeans.

“Oi! You. Stop ogling my boy,” David’s voice called from across the street.

Grace turned to find him walking toward the house with a smile on his face and an armful of grocery bags. She rushed to help him with the bags as Drew stepped down from the ladder.

“Hello, love.” Drew took the grocery bag from her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“How’s Mary today?”

His sad smile and light shrug was all the answer she needed.

“Decorating finally?” She gestured to the roof of the house.

“Yeah, Mum loves the lights, even though she won’t really be out to see them. The tree is up though. Presents are under it and all. Father Christmas, be damned.”

“I’m sure she loves knowing they’re there,” Grace said, resting her hand gently on his cheek.

“Right, well, let’s not stand here like a couple of dolts. She’s been asking when you’d be coming round.”

Mary was seated in a recliner, wrapped in a heavy quilt, with a hat on her head. The room was stiflingly warm and Grace began shedding layers as soon as she walked through the door. Mary smiled the moment she saw them.

“Oh, you both are such a sight. Come here to me.” She reached out slowly, but let her hand drop with fatigue.

“Mum?”

“It’s Christmas, isn’t it? Can we have Christmas now? Please say we can. I’m so tired.” Her eyes fluttered and rolled back in her head.

Drew’s eyes were wide with panic. “Mum, let me get Dad.” He turned to Grace, his face ashen. “Stay with her?”

She nodded and gently took Mary’s hand in hers. The skin felt thin and cold, but her fingers squeezed slightly.

“Love him, Grace.” Mary’s eyes were clear and focused. “He needs you.”

Grace’s throat worked to push away the lump that had formed. Her eyes filled with tears and she swiped at them with her free hand.

“I will.”

Mary smiled and went still, eyes open, but empty. Panic rose in Grace’s chest as she listened for any sign that Mary was still alive.

“Mary . . . Mary?” She shook her lightly. “Drew! David!”

Both Tensley men rushed in. As if in slow motion, Grace stepped back and watched as their hearts broke. David stood next to his wife, cradling her head in his hands, silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Drew pressed his fingers to her wrist and neck trying to find any sign of life. As he realized she was truly at peace, he stopped, pulled a chair close to his mother, and laid his head in her lap.

They sat in silence, weeping over the woman they both loved so deeply. Grace ached to go to Drew and comfort him in some way, but held back. She knew he’d need time to let her go before he could be comforted. She stood quietly and slipped into the kitchen where she did the only thing she could think of to offer support.

She made tea.

After weeks of making and drinking tea with Mary, she’d learned the Tensley tea ritual well and set about warming water in the kettle. The teapot was special, Mary had said. It was only made in a little shop in Scotland. They’d bought it on one of their visits with Drew. Her eyes focused on the pattern of roses and thistle intertwining. She was just pouring the milk when she felt two large hands wrap around her arms and gently turn her.

She stared into his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with anguish. Her hands went to cup his face and his lips trembled with the effort of hiding tears. A stray tear slipped from the corner of his eye before she was able to pull him to her.

“Drew, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was thick with her own tears.

His head fell to her shoulder and deep shuddering sobs ripped through his tall frame. His arms wrapped tightly around her with crushing intensity.

Grace stayed with them until the early hours of the morning. David finally called Hospice care, who arranged for Mary’s remains to be taken. Drew walked her to the door, eyes tired and face drawn. She hugged him tightly and turned to face the prospect of Christmas Eve with a heavy heart.

“Please call if you need me?”

Drew nodded. “I’m glad it was you. With her, I mean. She loved being with you. Thank you.”

She walked slowly down the cobblestone street of the town square, staring at the festive decorations and hating them for the first time in her life.

As she turned the corner to her cottage, as if to add insult to injury, a light beautiful snow began to fall.