Saving Grace (11 page)

It was best Chord thought she had a date. The look on his face had been nothing short of astounded when she’d asked for time off yesterday. Today, he hadn’t said two words to her.

The attraction burning between them needed some dousing with a bucket of ice-cold water. Flirting was fine out in the real world, but in the microcosm of household life, it was a very bad idea.

And she did have a date…with Uncle Vernon. If he was having a good day, she’d spring him from senior citizen prison and take him out to dinner.

Grace slipped in her gold dangle earrings—the only thing besides her car that she had of her mother’s. Pretend date night was better than no date night at all.

Now that she had a home base of sorts, maybe she should get out there and meet people. She could date…maybe Devon. He seemed to like her. A social life hadn’t been a priority since high school. Now, she had the time and money to have a little fun. Trouble was, she didn’t want to. If she were being honest, the only person who’d sparked her interest in a very long time was Chord. While he had been an ass when they’d first met, he’d owned up to it. Now, he was lots of fun. Sparring with him made her laugh and look forward to seeing him every morning.

She was woman enough to admit that upon occasion, she’d primped right before he got home. Most of her wanted to believe it was coincidental, but the rest of her wouldn’t let the other half get away with being delusional.

After checking her appearance one more time, she grabbed her purse and headed out of her room. In the kitchen, four angry male faces alternately glared and scowled as she riffled through her purse looking for her car keys.

“Believe it or not, I’m allowed to have fun.” Grace tossed them a look before opening the garage door and stepping into it.

Someone growled, but she couldn’t tell if it was a little boy or a man or Clementine.

Good. She didn’t belong solely to them. She was her own woman. She could do what she wanted. Trouble was, she wanted to march right back in there and see if anyone was up for a game of Monopoly.

***

Chord checked his watch. It was exactly five minutes after he’d heard Grace’s car pull out of the garage. “Boys, get the bag we packed this morning. Our woman is out with an unknown man, and we need to do some recon.”

He had to make sure that Grace was safe. How well did she really know this guy? His mouth curled in a snarl. Hopefully, she didn’t know him that well.

He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Grace was going out with another man. He needed to see for himself if it was something serious.

Clementine nodded. Cart bounded over to the study for the bag. HW pulled his iPod Touch out of his back pocket and touched the screen. The
Mission Impossible
theme song blared out.

Chord shot him a look.

“What?” HW hunched his shoulders. “Grace is always telling us music is a great way to express our feelings. Right now, I’m feeling like a spy.”

He had a point.

“Here we go.” Cart waved the black bag with three sets of binoculars, four black ski masks—they didn’t want Clementine to feel left out, walky-talkies, some chips, bottled water, and a flashlight.

“Okay men, operation RECON is a go.” He held open the garage door for them. “Jump in the Suburban, and let’s track her.”

HW picked up his iPod and he and Cart high-tailed it to the car. Clementine moseyed and would have stopped to smell the roses too if there had been any on the way to the car. Chord opened the driver’s side door, Clementine bounded up to the passenger’s seat, the boys climbed in the back seat, and Chord slid behind the wheel. As they backed out of the garage, Clementine nudged the window and barked several times.

“Okay boy, I’ll roll it down.” Chord pressed the button and the passenger’s side window lowered all the way.

Clementine stuck his football helmet sized head out the window and wagged his enormous tail. It thwacked Chord in the face, repeatedly.

It didn’t take long to find her pink Kharmann Ghia. They followed four car lengths behind her just like Wikipedia suggested after he’d Googled how to tail another car.

“How come CoCo isn’t here?” HW called loudly from the back seat as they headed down Southwest Parkway. The wind noise was horrible, but Clementine’s face was stretched back by the force of the wind, and he was in the dog zone.

“I asked her to come, but after explaining what we were doing, she called me a stalker, told me she was telling Grace, and slammed the door in my face. Don’t worry.” He dug in his back pocket and pulled out CoCo’s pink iPhone. “I lifted her phone so she can’t call Grace.”

“What about the home phone?” HW sounded so adult.

“True she could use that, but she probably doesn’t know Grace’s number. Since everyone uses contacts to store phone numbers, memory is no longer necessary.”

It was risky, but he couldn’t exactly rip out the home phone. What if CoCo needed to dial 911?

Grace exited Southwest Parkway and took MOPAC north and then took the 183 North exit. After that she exited onto the toll way. Chord itched to do the eight-five miles an hour that was legal, but kept it under sixty because Grace’s car could barely do that. He really should buy her a new car. He’d tried to get her to use the suburban, but she insisted on driving her car.

She took one of the Round Rock exits, and he almost lost her. Crossing four lanes of traffic, got him some honks, but he made it.

His phone buzzed from inside his front pocket. With one hand, he worked it out as he followed Grace into the parking lot of the Shady Oaks Assisted Living. Finally, he got the phone out of his pocket and glanced down at the caller. It was Grace.

He handed it to HW. “It’s Grace. Find out what she wants. Put it on speaker.”

HW ran his finger across the screen. “Hello.”

“Why are you following me?” Grace’s voice boomed from the back seat.

“We’re not.” HW winked. “We’re at home playing Uno.” He yelled, “Uno.”

“Uh huh. So you didn’t just turn into the parking lot behind me?” Grace knew it was them.

“Nope.” He nodded and sent Chord an I-got-this look. “Cart it’s your turn. You need red or a three.”

“I can see Clementine’s head hanging out the window.” Grace said.

“That must be some other dog.” HW nodded to himself.

“With an orange lifejacket?” Grace sounded mad.

“Um…” HW was starting to waver.

“I can prove it’s you.” She honked her horn. “If you’re at home, how come I heard my horn honk through the phone.”

All of HW’s bravado turned to panic.

Chord took the phone. Never one to throw in the towel. “We needed gas and HEB has the best price.”

“Chord, take me off speaker.” Grace’s voice was controlled and hard.

He touched the speaker icon and put the phone to his ear.

“You’ve invaded my privacy, and I won’t tolerate it. Go home. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.” She blew out a long breath. “In order for this thing to work, we need to trust each other. You just blew it.”

She hung up, started her car, and tore out of the parking lot.

“Guys we’re busted. Might as well go home and hope she doesn’t poison our pancakes in the morning.” Chord pulled through the semi-circle drive and out onto Hwy 620. Grace was pissed.

This had been a terrible idea. Now that he thought about it, he could see the flaws. Before, he’d been so blinded by jealousy that nothing else had mattered. He nodded to himself. He was man enough to admit he’d been jealous. Grace was out with another man and any chance Chord had of growing his relationship with her was gone. He gunned it onto the on ramp to the toll way. This time he took full advantage of the nation’s highest speed limit, and Clementine stuck his head even farther out of the window.

“Think Grace will leave?” Cart yelled from the back seat. He glanced in the rear view mirror. His little face was the picture of dejection.

Clementine barked and then growled his feelings.

“We won’t let her. I’m willing to admit this was a bad idea, but our hearts were in the right place…sort of.” When had he become the stalker CoCo had accused him of being?

“How about we buy Grace some flowers and candy and a pony?” HW chimed in.

“I like where your head’s at, but I don’t know about the pony.” Chord changed lanes. “I don’t think our Home Owners Association allows horses. I think we can have chickens though.”

“Chickens aren’t a very good gift, and I think they’re dirty.” Cart’s nose wrinkled up. “But we should get the candy and flowers for sure. On TV when the guy screws up, he buys the girl candy and flowers.”

It had merit.

“Candy and flowers it is.” Chord massaged the tight muscles at the back of his neck. He glanced at Clementine for his reaction, but the dog looked like he was too busy making sure his eyeballs didn’t blow out of his head to comment.

What if Grace did leave them? This was bad. Lead footballs bounced around inside his stomach. His life would go back to the meaningless mash of work emergencies and home emergencies. The thought of losing her opened up a rift in his heart. He needed Grace—not just to watch his kids, but because she soothed him. The thought of losing her hurt…more than it should…more than losing Alice.

Ten minutes later, Grace turned into the Shady Oaks parking lot again after a short drive to cool off. She found a parking space close to the front door. Shaking off the anger and the hurt, she rolled her shoulders and tried to forget Chord and the kids had just invaded her privacy. She needed to focus on Uncle Vernon. Right now, he was her priority. She took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, but the anger wasn’t going anywhere. She shook her head. Willing herself to not be mad was about as useful as willing herself to be a millionaire.

She picked up her purse, opened the door, and stepped out onto the broken pavement. Shady Oaks wasn’t the nicest facility, but it was clean, and right now she could afford it.

Cracks in the pavement made walking challenging, and weeds choked out whatever plants had grown along the path months ago, but she made it to the front door. Her uncle deserved the best, and this was far from it.

A better facility, Bella Verde, in Lakeway had him on a waiting list, but she didn’t know where she’d get the ten thousand dollars they wanted upfront, and her portion of the rent was two thousand dollars a month. It felt impossible. Usually an upbeat, the world’s a pretty-great-place kind of a person, it was rare she chose the dark side of any situation, but there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Right now, she could afford the monthly rent, but the upfront money was still a problem.

She pulled open the heavy glass door, and the scents of industrial cleaner and sticky-sweet air freshener wafted out. She took the dark corridor to his bungalow, number seventeen.

Why they called his tiny one bedroom apartment, a bungalow had always mystified her. She knocked on the door.

“He’s not having a good day.” A male voice said from behind her.

She turned around to find Edgar one of the medical assistants assigned to this wing. He’d always been kind to her and her uncle. Grace had a sneaking suspicion he was the one who’d hidden her uncle’s recent down turn from administration, otherwise, they would have forced her to make other arrangements for him. Her uncle needed more comprehensive care, but she couldn’t afford it.

“What happened?” She leaned against the door. “Should I be worried?”

He shook his head and his smile turned kind. “He left a pot boiling on the stove. I caught it before all of the water boiled out, so nothing happened. Next time though…he needs to be in an Alzheimer’s facility. We don’t have the manpower to watch him twenty-four seven.”

“I’m working on it, I promise.” She touched his arm. “Thanks for all you do for my uncle.” She blew out a long breath. “Bella Verde doesn’t have an opening right now, but he’s on the waiting list. Do you have any other ideas?”

“What about moving in with you?” Edgar was only trying to help. “You mentioned you’d gotten a new job.”

“I’m a live-in nanny. I don’t think my boss would care to have my uncle living with us too.” Grace was stuck between a rock who’d invaded her privacy and a hard place who needed a new place to live. Her situation was no longer hopeless, but it was long way from being hopeful.

“What about your music? You’re so talented. Don’t give up on your dream.” Edgar was the most positive person Grace had ever met. How he worked here and still managed to see the glass as two hundred percent full was beyond her.

“I’m still playing and writing. Not as much as I’d like, but now I have a steady income.” It sounded like a cop out. She was neglecting her music.

He shook his head again. “I still don’t see what the big deal was with your nipple. I think it was sabotage. Your competition knew you were going to win so they did something to your blouse.” He was dead serious.

While she’d like to blame someone else for the double-sided tape coming unstuck and allowing her low cut blouse to flop around, it had more to do with her lack of cleavage. Cursing God and her flat-chested genes seemed useless and not a little spiteful. “Thanks.”

She was about to say if only she could go back in time and wear a different shirt, but that one event had lead her here and she liked hanging out with the kids…and Chord. Truth was, she liked her life.

Her uncle’s door creaked open, and his head popped out. “Olivia, there you are. I was just telling dad about the new girl at school, Shirley. She’s in your grade.”

Edgar mouthed, “bad day.” He patted her on the shoulder, and then walked away.

When Uncle Vernon could no longer remember when or where he was, he called Grace by her mother’s name, Olivia. “Yes, I know her.”

The weight of his disoriented world fell on her shoulders. Today, she’d longed to tell him of the kids, Chord, and Clementine, but it would have to wait for another day…a good day.

She gave him a quick hug and stepped inside his bungalow. Her heart dropped to her knees, and her eyes filled with tears. Clearly, this had been a very bad day.