Stages of Grace (12 page)

I study him as he gently washes
my knee then applies ointment. It takes two large bandages to cover it, and as Ryan smoothes the second one on me, his fingertips on my skin make me erupt in goose bumps. I shiver, suddenly cold. With his hands on my waist, Ryan helps me off the counter. I walk gingerly to the bathroom to wash the blood off my hands and use a paper towel to wipe my shin. Ryan is putting away the first aid supplies when I walk back out. I can’t help but notice the trail of blood drips across his floor. I’m mortified. "Ryan, I am so sorry. Here, let me clean up." I reach for a roll of paper towels.

"Don’t be silly. Sit." He wheels a chair over to me. "This will just take a moment." Once he finishes, he comes back to check on me. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I nod, feeling like such an idiot having just watched him clean the floor.

"Still up for a burger?"
Ryan asks.

I pout, nodding again.

"Has your injury caused you to become mute?"

I tap my index finger on my lips, trying to look like I’m thinking about it but am unable to keep a straight face. Ryan reaches out his hand to help me up. I shake my head. I will probably have a bruise, but I'm not an invalid. He checks a few things in the office before we leave. Once in his Jeep, we pass at least six burger places before Ryan stops at a
kind of rundown looking place. I shoot him a concerned look.

"Don’t judge. Best burger ever. Besides I drove so you're stuck either way," Ryan says, walking around to open my door.

"Oh, I see how it is."

"They have milkshakes."

"Sign me up."

"Atta girl."

The place is seat yourself. Ryan leads us over to a booth. When I ask for a menu, Ryan laughs and points to the wall behind me. Turning, I see the back wall is one giant chalkboard-style menu.

"How cool," I say, getting up to take a closer look.

Ryan, clearly already certain of what he's ordering, stays put. The burgers are ordered by size with a million different topping options. My eyes light up when I see artichoke as one of them. I've never had them on a burger before, and it sounds so good. I walk back to our booth, ready to order. Not long after, a waitress comes over. Ryan orders a half-pound, medium cooked burger with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and banana peppers, plus a chocolate milkshake. I order a quarter-pound, medium cooked burger with the same toppings as Ryan, just artichokes instead of banana peppers and a mint chocolate chip milkshake. Ryan crinkles his nose at my topping selection and orders a basket of onion rings for us to split.

Our milkshakes come out first, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. I have to pace myself or I'll be done with my milkshake before the food comes out. While we wait, Ryan asks me about twenty times how my knee is. The last time he gets the hint when I kick him in the shin under the table doing my best to look innocent while sipping on my shake. Ryan changes the subject and starts asking me about Ohio. I consider not telling him about Jon but feel as though the omission could be considered a lie. I try not to notice how Ryan seems to stiffen when I say I live with my boyfriend. Not wanting to talk about him further, I tell Ryan about my job and the Cuyahoga River, wondering out loud if people kayak on it.

"So you'd like to go out on a yak again?"

"A yak?"

"Term of affection."

"Oh
, I see. Yes, I would, even though I'm not sure I'll be able to lift my arms tomorrow, and I will have to work on my dismount."

"How does your knee feel?"

"It's fine. I feel a bit silly you had to carry me and even with my fall I had a great time. The water was beautiful. Really, thank you so much for taking me."

Conversation ceases for a bit once our food arrives. Hands down the best burger I have ever had. It's so thick I follow Ryan's lead and squish it before trying to take a bite. The onion rings are amazing as well.
The perfect level of crispiness. I’m happy this place isn’t a chain or I’d fear for my arteries. I ask Ryan what made him settle down in Florida. It seems somewhat tame after all the places he talked about. It turns out the owner of the house he rents is an old friend he'd done some of his traveling with. They had come up with the idea of the business together, and since his friend is wealthy, he said he would put up the investment if Ryan ran the place. His friend is American and wanted to keep the business stateside.

"So where's your friend?"

"Jack pops in from time to time, but he never stays long. Bit of a gypsy. I think he's in Indonesia right now."

"Do you wish you were with him?"

"I love to travel, and there are still many places I want to see. I usually try and take one trip a year, but I like sleeping in my own bed."

"Someday I'd like to travel, maybe go outside of the US."

"What's stopping you?"

"Work, money, fear of the unknown."

"And your Jon? Does he like to travel?"

I shrug, uncomfortable that I don’t even know the answer to that. While Ryan may think it's a strange, non-answer, he doesn’t push. After finishing our food and paying the check, we stand to leave. When Ryan notices me grimace he talks me into letting him double check my bandages once we are at the car. I patiently sit in the passenger seat, my legs facing out as Ryan inspects my knee. I try explaining to him that I'm fine and that it's just stiff and all I need to do is put ice on it once we get back to Kate's, but Ryan isn’t convinced. I don’t press it; I'm enjoying his hands on my legs too much, wondering if maybe he's making a big deal just so he can touch me. I shake off the idea of him being interested in me; he's just a nice guy. Since my bleeding had stopped ages ago, Ryan finally admits an ice pack is a good idea and looks guilty when he warns me I'll probably have a nasty bruise.

"Ryan, seriously. Relax. I bruise easy. It's not a big deal. I'm a total klutz."

"So Grace is not very graceful?"

"No," I laugh. "I most certainly am not."

Ryan thinks this is funny and teases me about it most of the way home, asking me for examples of my
klutziest moments. I have plenty to share. My story about crashing a Segway on a rogue speed bump almost makes him cry, he is laughing so hard. I can't help but laugh, his laughter is contagious. I stress how much it hurt at the time but that only makes him crack up more, until I find myself shaking with laughter along with him. After I catch my breath I tell him how I had been with my parents and can still remember how angry my father had gotten at the rental guy. At the time, I didn’t have health insurance and had been happy and felt lucky I had not broken anything. I had jumped up after my crash, checking myself for broken bones and said I'm fine, I'm good over and over. Looking back, I'm not sure if I was trying to convince my father or myself.

When we get back to my grandmother's house, I take a quick shower and change into some khaki shorts and a tank. Then Ryan gets me all set on a lounge chair with an ice pack. I'm unsuccessful trying to take care of myself, and once Ryan tells Kate about my knee, she gangs up on me as well. As much as I fight the attention, I secretly enjoy it, knowing Jon would not have spared my knee a second glance. Once they're satisfied I am comfortable, Kate gets us all caught up on gossip from her knitting group, excited to announce the grandson of one of the members is getting married.

She turns to me. "When will we hear wedding bells for you, Grace?"

I flush, shaking my head. Ryan cocks his head to the side, looking at me.

Kate continues. "Well, why not?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it." I fiddle with the hem of my tank top, not able to look at either of them.

"Aw, leave her be, Kate." Ryan seems to sense my discomfort.

I can tell Kate wants to say something else and
am grateful Ryan interceded on my behalf. Kate grumbles and gets up to check the roast she is making for dinner. Once she is out of sight, I mouth “thank you” to Ryan. He dips his head in acknowledgement, but I can see a question remains in his eyes. I don't want either of them to know how unhappy I am. I don’t want to give Kate a reason to worry now that she's found me and the idea of admitting to Ryan that I'm in a loveless relationship is embarrassing. I clear my throat and look away when I see his eyes are still on me.

Given my invalid status, Ryan helps Kate set the table and bring out the food. At first, they think I should eat where I am sitting so I can keep my leg elevated and the ice on it. I put my foot down, literally, and argue that I can ice my knee again later and had been just fine sitting in a booth at lunch. I win the right to sit like a normal person at the table. Ryan opens a bottle of red wine. It surprises me when he pours himself a glass, having only seen him drink beer with dinner. Ryan confesses he does not like white wine.

Kate again has outdone herself with the meal. Over my first and second serving, I ask her how she ended up in Florida. She explains that when my mother became pregnant with me my parents moved from Pennsylvania to Ohio. Kate lived with her parents, now taking care of them in their old age. Her father had been a successful businessman and as long as she stayed in their home she had no need to work. My great grandfather died when I was around two years old; my great grandmother three years later. As the sole beneficiary of their estate and still estranged from my mother, Kate had wanted nothing more than to get out of Pennsylvania.

Tired of the cold weather and wanting to live near water, she decided on Florida. She had friends who wintered there. She had no interest in being a snow bird and having two homes to maintain, so she took the plunge and moved down full time. She questioned her sanity at first in making such a move. She paused before asking me if I had ever heard of a palmetto bug. I shake my head, looking over at Ryan as he starts laughing. Kate explains they are large, flying cockroach-looking bugs that seemed to be everywhere. I don’t want to believe her at first, but Ryan, while laughing, assures me they are very real.

Kate made a go of it, though, and built a life for herself in Florida. She didn't have to work but took a job as a secretary at a church. Now, she has a good group of friends, counting Ryan among them. She is also friends with Jack, since they've been neighbors for ten years. Before Ryan lived there Kate was often in charge of collecting Jack's mail for him while he globe trotted. When Ryan moved into his house, Jack made it part of the rental agreement that he maintain the landscaping of Kate's property as well. Ryan liked yard work, and it gave him an opportunity to befriend Kate. She always had a glass of lemonade ready for him, and he could use her pool.

Once Kate got to know him better, the lemonade got ditched for Belgian beer, and he started joining her for dinner. Kate liked the company and having someone to cook for, and Ryan had never eaten as well in his life. When I ask about his mother's cooking, he admits
it's vile shit, apologizing to Kate quickly for cursing and assuring us he eats it anyway out of respect for his mum. Kate just looks pleased he enjoys her cooking so much. Looking at them, I envy their easy relationship and how comfortable Ryan is with my grandmother. It's amazing to me how attached I feel to them, considering I've only known them for such a short time.

I am already feeling sad that my trip is almost half over. When I leave, Ryan will continue his evening dinners and friendship with my grandmother and where will I be? In Ohio, carefully walking up slippery steps to avoid breaking my neck, sleeping in the same bed with someone I used to love. I
ponder if the spark of attraction I feel for Ryan might in some way have turned my senses back on to that feeling. That maybe when I get home to Jon, things will be like they had in the beginning when we could barely keep our hands off each other. Everywhere we went, Jon found a patch of exposed skin to caress, the back of my neck, the top of my knee, the inside of my wrist. I had been just as bad, especially with kisses, never being able to stop with just one.

There is something about being at my grandmother's house that makes me want to stomp my feet and throw a childlike tantrum and yell at the top of my lungs, “I don’t want to go home!
I want my grandmother.” I keep those urges within, but after a piece of chocolate cake, I sit next to Kate as she knits on her little wicker loveseat and lean into her. Since Ryan also drank wine with us that evening, the bottle had not lasted long. He opens another bottle and fills both of our glasses. I have never been much of a drinker and have drank almost nothing in the past year. This being my third glass of the evening, I'm feeling the effects.

My eyes feel heavy, and I giggle frequently.
Ryan studies me as I try to regain composure then asks me out of the blue why marriage isn’t for me. I blurt out, “I don’t love him.
”
Realizing what I said I clap my hand over my mouth, eyes wide. I giggle as if it's the funniest thing I have ever said, not noticing when my laughs turn into tears. Kate stashes her knitting and pulls me into a hug. Ryan goes inside to fetch some tissues. I shyly take the box from him, wishing to dissolve into the cushion instead of answering the question in his eyes.

Kate, never one to hold back, delicately, asks. "Why are you still with him?"

"I forgot how to be without him."

"Grace, that's no reason to stay with someone."