Seasoned with Grace (24 page)

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Authors: Nigeria Lockley

BOOK: Seasoned with Grace
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“Believe what you want to believe,” Grace told the reporters. “Even after seeing the miracles that Jesus performed, many still doubted He was the Son of God, but truth is truth, and what you believe cannot and will not change it. Javier is a monster preying on the young girls who go unguarded in this business. Today Carol and I stand together, and we ask any other girl who has been victimized to come forward. We will stand with you . . .”
“Through the fire,” Grace and Carol said together, holding their hands in the air.
Chapter 38
After the press conference was over, the whole crew gathered in Ethan's office. They rallied around Grace, patting her on the back and lavishing her with praises.
“I'm proud of you, babe,” Horace said, squeezing her tightly and planting a kiss on her cheek.
“I knew you could do it,” Junell said between bites of a croissant that was left over from the food that was served.
The conference table in Ethan's office was littered with leftovers from the event. Between the unveiling of the photos and Carol's announcement, not many people had been concerned about stuffing their faces with slices of Gouda.
“Guys . . . guys.” Grace waved her hands in the air to get everyone's attention. “I'm not the brave one here.” She walked a few paces to Carol, who was staring out Ethan's window with her forehead and fingertips pressed to the glass. Placing her hands on Carol's shoulders, Grace spun her around to face them all. “This is the face of today's hero. If Carol had not shown up at my door, I would still be sitting on my couch, ducking and diving from reporters. Let's give it up for Carol,” Grace said, leading the group in a slow clap.
“Ca-rol! Ca-rol! Ca-rol!” they all chanted as they surrounded Grace and Carol.
Alice poked her head through the door. “I'm sorry to interrupt the party, but you have a call, Ethan.”
Ethan waved his hand. “They can wait. We're celebrating the first of many victories.”
“You're going to want to take this. It's RAINN—the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network—on line one, and they want to talk to you about working with Grace.”
Grace covered her mouth as she looked up to the sky. “You're a wonder,” she whispered to God, placing her hand on her heart to slow the rapid beat that now thudded in her chest. She reached for Horace and clutched the sleeve of his solid black V-neck tee.
“Grace, what do you want me to do?” Ethan asked.
“Take it,” Grace replied.
Ethan picked up the phone, and they all held their breath as Ethan nodded and repeatedly said, “I have to discuss that with my client.” He paused for what felt like hours but was only about thirty seconds. “Thank you for contacting us. This sounds like a wonderful venture, and I will let you know my client's decision within twenty-four hours,” he stated very matter-of-factly, revealing no emotion to the party on the other end or to those in front of them.
When Ethan placed the phone back in the cradle, Grace took her place at the head of his desk.
“Well?” she said.
“Well, RAINN wants to use you as the face of their twenty-fifteen Speak Out against Sexual Violence against Women campaign.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Grace. They want to make you the face of their national campaign against sexual violence, and I think you should take it. This is a blessing. If you take this, millions of women across the country will find the courage to speak up about being raped, and this is what we need to take care of that little ‘probation being revoked' situation. I can file a motion in the morning to have your probation amended in light of what has been revealed. I will petition the court to have the original order for you to attend anger management amended and to have your participation in this campaign count as a substitution.”
“Can you do that?” Grace asked.
“Of course he can,” Candace chimed in from the seat beside the table. “My man knows how to work the system, and you now have an advocate who is seated on the right hand of the Father ready to intercede for you.”
“Hallelujah!” erupted from Junell's stuffed mouth. “Don't start, girl. You're going to have me slain in the spirit up in this office.”
Everyone cracked up at Junell's stuffed-mouth outburst.
“Well, babe, tell the man what you're going to do,” Horace prompted Grace, massaging her shoulders.
“Ethan, I think we're going to take this party to the streets and let you get to work. You've got motions to file, offers to accept, and travel plans to set up for me,” Grace stated, with a large grin spread across her face.
 
 
“Ethan, are you going to spend all day on the phone?” Grace whined, tapping on his desk with the toe of one of her four-and-a-half-inch steel-gray Guiseppe Zanotti pumps.
Ethan held up one finger and mouthed the words “one minute” to Grace.
Grace scrolled through her Google alerts. Three months after she had come forward, girls were still crawling out of the woodwork, accusing Javier Roberts of sexually assaulting them on the set. Today's headlines were
PHOTOGRAPHER'SLISTOFVICTIMSLONGERTHANAROLLOFFILM
and
RAPIST TALLY REACHES TWENTY
.
Swiping her finger across the screen of her phone, she shifted her focus from the bad news to the throng of RSVPs she'd received for Junell's baby shower. With the pain of her past buried in a grave, it was time for her to focus on new life. It wasn't easy at first, looking at things and picking out decorations, but Grace was able to find the perfect party planner to help her pull off a Shel Silverstein–themed baby shower for Junell.
“I'm sorry,” Ethan said after hanging up the phone. He folded his arms on his desk, between several stacks of folders. “What do you have to do that is so important?”
“I have a meeting today with the premier executive event planner, David Tutera. I was so blessed to have caught him in between events. He is in charge of everything.”
“Who?”
“David Tutera, of
My Fair Wedding.

“Doesn't ring a bell. Listen, I got an offer for you,” Ethan stated, trying to change the subject.
“I can't believe you've never heard of David Tutera. While we're on the subject, I have not yet received your RSVP for the shower, and it's in two weeks.” Grace continued opening her e-mails as she spoke.
“Hello. I've been busy here.” Ethan held a stack of folders in the air. “You and Carol opened up a firestorm. I've got all kinds of actresses and models asking for me to represent them now. I have contracts to review and negotiate.”
Grace placed her cell phone facedown on the desk to avoid any more distractions and focused on what Ethan was getting at. “Isn't that what you've always wanted? Some clients besides me?”
Resting his forehead in the palms of his hands, Ethan shook his head from side to side. “It's overwhelming
and
inspiring. I'm thinking about setting up my own firm, Grace.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing.” He laughed. “That's not why I called you down here. I've got an awesome offer for you. I mean, out of this world. I've already done the negotiations, so all that we're waiting for is your approval.” Ethan reclined in his chair and rested his right ankle on his left knee, exposing a pair of hot pink and navy checkerboard socks.
Grace scooted to the edge of her seat, placed her hand in the middle of her legs, and held on to the chair, waiting to hear what the offer was.
“Lifetime wants the rights to produce your biopic. You'll get script and cast approval, and they've asked that you play your older self. How's that sound?”
“Lifetime?”
“Yes, Lifetime.”
Grace fell back in her chair and stomped her feet rapidly. “I have to tell the girls.” She picked up her phone and began composing a text message to Junell, Candace, and Carol.
Ethan snatched the phone out of her hand. “What is wrong with you? That is not how we conduct business. You can't send out a mass text message, and you haven't even signed on.”
Snatching her phone out of Ethan's hands, she continued typing. “Of course I'll do it. Tell them I want Carol to play the young me. I really want her to start working again. She stopped cutting herself, but she hasn't fully returned to normal activities yet.”
“Is she still staying with you?”
“Yes. Her parents rented some cottage in France, and they said they can't break their lease. Can you believe how absurd they're being?”
“You know, Grace, I always wanted to say this to you, but I never thought I'd be able to. I am really proud of you. I am inspired by the way that you latched on to God and have not hesitated one bit since then.”
“Well then, my next announcement is going to blow you out of your socks. I'm thinking about applying to Nyack College to pursue a degree in Christian counseling. They have a location in the city now, so I wouldn't have to go all the way to Nyack to make this happen.”
With all the time Grace had on her hands now, she'd had plenty of time to meditate on the Word of God and figure out what her calling was. It wasn't modeling or acting. All the experiences she'd had would be useful in directing other people on how to rely on the Lord to heal them of their myriad issues. Through the power of Jesus Christ, Grace had not drunk, snorted, or sniffed anything except water and perfume in the fragrance department at Macy's. College wasn't going to be easy, considering she hadn't even finished high school, but she was willing to put in the work necessary to fulfill her purpose, even if that meant she had to get a GED.
“Doesn't that mean you have to get your GED first?” Ethan asked.
“Yes, it does, which is precisely why I can't hang around here with you any longer. I've enrolled in a GED program I found out about through the public library, and I have to be there in half an hour, and I have to meet David this afternoon. Ethan, are you coming to the shower or not?”
“Yes, Grace King. I will go anywhere that you want me to go,” Ethan said as he rose from his chair and bowed.
Chapter 39
Grace didn't know why sweat was pouring out of her armpits. Her ruffled sleeves were wetter than the deck of the
Maid of the Mist
at Niagara Falls.
“What's wrong?” Horace asked, coming up behind her and embracing her.
“I'm sweating profusely.”
“Normal. It's not every day that you host a baby shower for the who's who of prime-time television.”
“It's not normal,” Grace insisted, her lips twisted into a frown. “You're not supposed to sweat in organza. Especially not Isabel Marant,” she said, lifting a piece of the thin white frock with her hand.
“Look on the bright side, babe. If you go put your back against the wall and hold very still, you'll fit in with the decorations,” he joked.
Grace freed herself from his tender embrace. “Don't you like the decor? It's simple and chic,” she said, stroking the black-and-white wallpaper, which consisted of blown-up images from
Where the Sidewalk Ends.
She'd gone through a lot to have the hall transformed into the setting of a Shel Silverstein book. “Junie loves Shel Silverstein. I think it's a great way to welcome the baby to the world. Come check out the tables.” Taking him by the hand, Grace dragged Horace to the nearest table.
Horace cocked his head from left to right as he gazed at what appeared to be the stump of a tree that had been chopped down but was actually a table. The brown stump with its dull bark stood in sharp contrast to the clean white-and-black decorations. Grace ran her fingers around the circles that made up the table's top, and smiled at him.
“We're eating on stumps? You're paying this guy a bajillion dollars for tree stumps? You know I work in construction, right?”
Grace popped Horace in the gut. “It wasn't a bajillion dollars, and this is the stump from
The Giving Tree,
and all the cups are supposed to be the apples.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You never read
The Giving Tree?

Horace shook his head.
Grace placed her hands on his cheeks and rose up on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. “You were deprived as a child. I'm going to read the book to you tonight.”
“Grace, I love you.”
“Don't start getting mushy on me. The guests are arriving.” Grace plucked a vintage compact mirror from her clutch and gave herself the once-over. She slicked down the hair at her temple. Even though she'd just had her hair freshly cut and permed, it was still misbehaving. Next, she ran her finger across the top row of her teeth and reapplied some lipstick.
“Are you done getting beautified?” Horace asked, spinning Grace around to face him.
“Yes, Horace, but you know, as much as I want to play with you now”—she placed both of her hands on his chest—“we don't have enough time for romance.”
“How about forever? Is forever enough time for romance?”
“What are you saying, Horace?”
“I'm saying that all this baby clothes shopping, talk of safety gates, and christening got me thinking about the day Horace Jr. is born. I've been wondering what my family is going to look like, and every time I close my eyes, I see you. When I met you, Grace, you were a beautiful mess, and I have had a front seat to your transformation. Now you're a wonderfully whole woman, and I want to walk the rest of this journey with you. Every day won't be like this, but I promise all our days will be filled with love and warmth.”
“Horace, I've been thinking about walking away from the limelight, anyway,” she said, closing her eyes. The flashing lights of the camera were losing their appeal, and whiskey was no longer her favorite drink, although she enjoyed the wine they served for Communion probably a little bit more than she should. All that she wanted now was the things she'd given up a long time ago, a family, friends, and her sanity. There was no way she was giving up her shoes, but she could do without the rest of the junk she'd purchased with her shoes. “I could definitely take a walk on a simpler road,” she said, opening her eyes.
Horace got down on one knee.
“Horace what are you doing?” Grace squealed, covering her eyes as Horace dug his hand into a pocket of his dark gray slacks.
“I'm asking you to transform one more time for me.” He drew her hands from her eyes and opened the lid on a black, heart-shaped ring box. Through her tears Grace could barely see what the ring looked like. “Grace King, would you please do me the honor and become Mrs. Horace Brown?”
Fanning her face rapidly with both hands, Grace screamed, “Yesss!”
Cheers and screams broke out all around her. Grace had been so focused on what Horace was saying, she had nearly forgotten where she was, and had not noticed the small crowd that had assembled around them.
Horace slid the ring onto her finger. “Well, are you going to kiss your man or what?”
Junell waddled to the right side of Grace and began leading the crowd in a chant. “Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!”
Ethan and Candace stood to the left of Grace and joined in the chant. Carol appeared behind Horace with a cell phone in her hand, prepared to take a picture. Grace bent over and pressed her lips against Horace's. Horace grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down onto his bent knee. The crowd of guests began to clap.
“Horace, I can't believe you,” Grace whispered in his ear.
“What can I say? I love you, Grace King.”
“Help me get up.”
Horace hoisted Grace to her feet by the waist.
Grace waved her hands in the air. “Thank you, everyone, but today is about welcoming my goddaughter, Millicent, into the world. Please check out the bookmaking stations to create a great picture book or fairy tale for Millicent, and make sure you hit the photo booth.” Grace turned to Junell and rubbed her belly. “I'm sorry about this distraction. I know you're thinking this is classic Grace King trying to steal the show, but I had no idea about this. I'm—”
Junell put her hand over Grace's mouth. “I knew all about this.” She lifted Grace's left hand and held it in the air. “Just who do you think picked out an oval-shaped, diamond-encased, six-pronged, braided pavé band, one representing how the two of you became one? By the way, it's a little shy of a carat. Angle it downward and most won't notice.”
“Junie, you helped him pick this out?”
“Yes, either it was me or my mother, and you know Mama June was trying to give you her antique bridal set.”
“I can't believe you did this for me.”
“Believe it, baby! We all love you.”
“Congratulations, Gracie,” Candace said, kissing Grace on the cheek. “We all do love you.”
“Wait a minute.” Junell held up her hand. “Before the next lovefest begins, can someone get me into that chair? I have elephant ankles.” She lifted the bottom of her maxi dress a few inches. “You see, Patrick won't be back from Dubai until next week, so it's just me, Epsom salts, and these ankles.”
Grace and Candace both helped Junell wobble to the white and pink wicker chair in the corner of the room. Junell plopped into the chair.
“Thank you, ladies,” she said.
“No, thank you,” Grace said, kissing Junell on the forehead and then Candace. “All of you really helped me to see that there was some truth to what this woman said to me right after she slapped me. My life has been seasoned with grace.”

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