Falling From Grace (13 page)

So here it was. He had finally found someone to fill that void that had been in his heart since Mom died.
 
And I couldn’t stand her.
 
I looked over to Dad, looking so small in his inner pain.
 
He was losing a future with a new love and another child.
 
And all because I didn’t like Janice and had an unreasonable fear that she was trying to replace my mom in his life.

How selfish was I being?
 
Graham’s face was suddenly in my mind.
 
He had never tried to work on a compromise with Erica about me.
 
He just chose her.
 
I wasn’t even part of the equation anymore, and that had hurt me.
 
Never mind the fact that I loved him.
 
That didn’t even factor into this problem because he hadn’t known that when he ‘d made his decision; but if he had, he still would have chosen her over me.
 
I knew that much.
 

But Dad had made the same decision this morning, hadn’t he?
 
He had underestimated Janice though; she was the kink in the gears.
 
She had decided not to come between the two of us.
 
She had sacrificed security and love and who knows what else so that I could be happy, even though I hadn’t thought twice about her happiness, too consumed with what my mom would have thought about all of this.
 
We both were thinking of the exact same thing, only from different ends, and we both had come to the same conclusion.
 

Only trouble with that is that now that I had gotten what I thought I wanted, I wasn’t happy.
 
I hadn’t thought about what kind of effect it would have on Dad, and I just didn’t want to see him hurt anymore.
 
He’d spent too much time alone after Mom had died.
 
Everyone said so.
 
Said it was “unnatural” for a man to stay single for so long.
 
Then said it was “sinful” when he started dating again in earnest.
 
He couldn’t win for losing.
 
But none of the relationships ever lasted long.
 
I was always the issue.
 

No one wanted to be the mother of “Grace the Freak”, the gangly, weird looking girl who had somehow survived a horrible car without a single scratch on her while her mother burned to death.

But Janice was willing.
 
She wanted to be a part of Dad’s life as much as he wanted to be a part of hers.
 
She just didn’t want it so badly that she’d come between the two of us.
 
I saw that now.
 
I saw all of it, and I felt ashamed.
 
I was being just as cruel as Erica…as Graham.
 
I shook my head.
 
I would stop it.

“Dad,” I began, trying hard to find the right words to express my remorse and guilt.
 
“I think you should tell Janice that it’s okay if she wants to move in.
 
She makes you happy, and that’s more than I’ve been able to do this past week.
 
I can‘t find a reason to hate her for that, and I’m sorry I tried.”

I tried to gauge his reaction, see if what I had to say would please him.
 
“You deserve to be happy, Dad.
 
You deserve to have a second chance, just like everyone else.
 
She’s your second chance.
 
I see that now.”

His face was pinched, his shoulders were still hunched, and the words that I had hoped would have changed his entire demeanor weren’t enough.
 
I suddenly felt worse.

“Grace, this isn’t something you can just fix by saying she can stay now.
 
This isn’t high school, this is real life.
 
She’s leaving, Grace.
 
She heard back from a school up north that had a job opening and was just waiting to see if things could be worked out here.
 
She came home with me to talk to you, but when I saw you dressed in some guy’s shirt, I couldn’t think about anything other than who you’d been with and why you were wearing his clothes-”

“I told you Dad, he gave it to me because I had spilled food all over my other one.” I interrupted, wishing that I hadn’t thrown away that shirt just to reassure him.

He nodded his head, an automatic reaction.
 
He took a deep breath and sighed.
 
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Grace.
 
Janice has made up her mind.
 
Look, I’m tired.
 
I think I’ll head up to bed.
 
Don’t stay up too late.”

I scooted over on the bottom step and watched as he passed me by, looking dejected and absolutely miserable.
 
My relenting on Janice was too late.
 
My moment of unselfishness didn’t come soon enough, and knowing that I had been a factor in my dad’s unhappiness was weighing down on me with an incredible amount of pressure.
 
Watching him slowly climb up the stairs, I knew I had to do something.
 
I just didn’t know what.
 
Not yet, anyway.

I was galvanized into action as soon as I heard his bedroom door close upstairs, the clicking of the lock giving me an idea.
 
Quickly, I went to the phonebook in the kitchen.
 
I found the number I was looking for and started dialing like mad.

The ringing was torturous.
 
I willed the person on the other end to answer while I ran over what I was going to say.
 
Three rings.
 
Answer
.
 
Four…
 
ANSWER
!!

”Hello?”

I let out a whoosh of breath, so relieved to hear that voice for the first time in my life, I actually started giggling.

“Um…hello?
 
Who is this?”

“J-Janice?
 
It’s me, Grace,” I blurted out, afraid I’d start giggling again and she’d confuse me for some prank happy teenager, or some psychotic clown-faced killer.

I could hear her breathing on the other end, somewhat annoyed, rough, and was convinced that she was about to hang up on me when she started talking.
 
“What’s the matter, Grace?
 
It’s very late.
 
Is something the matter?
 
Did something happen to James?”

I took a deep breath, sending out a silent prayer that I was doing the right thing, and started.
 
“Janice, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.
 
I’m sorry for what happened tonight.
 
I-“

She cut me off.
 
“Grace, did your dad tell you what happened?
 
Look, Grace, what happened tonight wasn’t your fault.
 
Your father and I, we-“

It was my turn for interrupting.
 
I didn’t want her making up her mind before I had even had a chance to change it.
 
“Janice, please.
 
Let me finish.
 
It’s taking a lot for me to do this, but it’s for a good reason, believe me.”
 
I waited for her to say something but when all I heard was silence, I continued.
 
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for what happened tonight.
 
If I had been awake, I would have told you that I
do
want you to move in with my Dad, and start your new little family together.”
 

I surprised myself with how convincing that sounded, believing in those words myself.
 
“You make my dad happy.
 
He told me so himself twice today, told me how much you mean to him, and that’s not something that I take lightly.
 
He wants you in his life.
 
He
needs
you in his life, Janice.

“It was wrong of me to have gotten so upset this morning when he told me about the baby…and you moving in.
 
I was angry and upset about my own problems, and I didn’t want to see how much he wants this,
needs
this because then I’d have to think about someone other than myself and I couldn’t not be that selfish.
 
Not then.
 
But things have changed, my eyes are open now and I see that I was wrong.
 
You’re good for him, Janice.
 
I’d be blind if I didn’t see that and admit that now, no matter how I feel.

“I’m asking you
—
no, begging you to not leave my Dad, Janice.
 
He deserves to be happy.
 
He deserves to be happy with you.
 
I was being selfish about everything, and I’m very,
very
sorry about that.
 
You have to stay, Janice.
 
We both want you to stay.”

I could hear her fidgeting with the phone, as if she were trying to find something else to do to keep from having to respond to me.
 
Finally, she spoke.
 
“Grace, I’m supposed to drive up north tomorrow morning to sign my contract papers.
 
It’s going to be very unprofessional of me to just not go.”

I felt my stomach hit the floor.
 
She was still going?
 
She was talking about professionalism when my father’s heart was at stake?
 
She was…wait.
 
“Janice…?
 
Does this mean you’re staying?”

A small sigh reached my end of the phone.
 
“I love your father, Grace.
 
He makes me happy, too.
 
I want a future with him
—
with the both of you.
 
You’re a part of James…maybe the best part.
 
The best part, he tells me.
 
I cannot have him without you, and I wouldn’t want to.
 
If you are sure about this, if this is what you want, then yes, I’m staying.”

I did a quick dance on the kitchen floor at that.
 
There was no rhythm to it, but who needed that when you had just ensured your father’s happiness?
 
I had been prepared for a battle; I didn’t expect it to be so easy.
 
“Thank you, Janice, for doing this.
 
It really means a lot to me.”

“Thank you, Grace.
 
Thank you for doing this.”

She told me that she’d be here in the morning to tell Dad that she had changed her mind, and that we had talked
—
in that order
—
and then we hung up.
 
I was feeling very good.
 
That small act of kindness had changed my whole outlook.
 
All of the events of today had changed my whole outlook.

After two weeks of doing nothing but crying, moping, and feeling sorry for myself, not to mention a day of hurt, embarrassment, and incredible secrets, I suddenly felt unbelievably tired.
 
Going to bed now would bring tomorrow that much faster…and tomorrow I would see Dad’s smile return to his face.
 
Tomorrow I would have a friend, an ally at my side, whose secrets I was now a part of.
 
Tomorrow, I’d begin a new chapter in my life.
 
It sounded so good, I was in my bed and asleep in a heartbeat.

When my alarm went off at six, I felt amazingly refreshed.
 
I rushed through my shower, brushing my teeth at the same time.
 
As soon as I had rinsed the last bit of soap off, I was out, pulling my clothes on and struggling against the friction of dry clothes against wet skin.
 
I ran a towel through my hair and then fought the angry tangles with my brush.
 
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
 
I had chosen my favorite t-shirt, black with the head of one of my favorite movie characters, Jack Skellington on the front, smiling his crooked jack ‘o lantern smile, and my favorite pair of jeans.
 
A black belt surrounded by grommets, and a matching bracelet were the only accessories I dared wear.
 
I knew my limitations.

I ran downstairs, walking into the wall of aroma that was canned cinnamon rolls and brown and serve sausages.
 
The typical Tuesday breakfast never smelled so good.

Dad was sitting at the table, newspaper in hand, sipping a cup of coffee while the cinnamon rolls baked.
 
In a cup of warm water in front of him was the frosting packet, ready and waiting to be squeezed onto the doughy goodness.
 
Dad looked up from his paper and gave me the usual once over.
 
I was used to it, and waited for the normal response to my shirt and jeans combo, but today, nothing came.

“Morn, Dad,” I said cheerfully, hopefully.

“Good morning, Grace,” he replied, a stark difference in his tone compared to mine.
 
He went back to reading the paper.
 
Not wanting to burst out and announce that Janice would be over in a few minutes, I grabbed a mug from the dish rack, walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup.
 
I added the creamer and sugar slowly, counting each spoonful, doing my best to occupy my mind so that my mouth didn’t start moving before my head could tell it to stop.
 
When the oven timer went off, signaling that the rolls were done, I rushed over to take them out.