The Color Of Grace (5 page)

I just didn’t look forward to it.

What took up most of my thoughts was what would happen when
I saw Ryder Yates again. Would he flirt mercilessly as he had at the basketball
game, avoid me out of mortification, or worst of all, completely forget who I
was?

“So, Grace,” Barry said. “I know you’re worried about your
first day at Southeast tomorrow, so I got you a little something to help ease
the nerves.”

It was suppertime, and my new family sat around the dining
room table.

My mouth fell open when Barry set a small, jewelry-sized
black velvet box on the table next to my glass of milk. I glanced at Mom.

She blinked a few times before transferring her confused
gaze to her husband. “Barry?”

He fluttered an unconcerned hand her way and continued to
grin at me. “Well? Go ahead and open it.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I reached out,
ripped off the red bow on top, and flipped open the lid.

“Oh, my God,” I screeched. “It’s beautiful.” Too afraid to
touch all that sparkly gold, I lifted my gaze again. “Is this really for me?”

Yeah, it wasn’t a piece of jewelry with a yellow daisy on
it—which was my favorite flower—but still. A rose necklace was more than I’d
ever expected from a stepdad I’d only had a few weeks.

However, if I’d known such a dainty piece of jewelry would
cause the calamity it did, I would’ve spit on it that very moment and thrown it
back in Barry’s face. But who could ever predict something so disastrous?
Honestly.

It was lovely, though. Thick, fourteen-carat gold chain with
a heart-shaped pendant and a ruby red rose in the center. I fell in love the
moment I opened the box and the light reflecting off one of the red-gold petals
winked up at me.

“Don’t you want to try it on?” Barry asked when I did
nothing but ogle the gift without daring to touch it.

I let out an amazed breath and extracted the rose from the
box with trembling fingers. I attempted to fasten the chain around my neck
twice before Barry laughed and pushed from his chair. “Here, let me.” He
skirted the table, moving behind me.

I lifted my hair, and he fastened the clasp. Cold gold settled
against the back of my neck, the chill making goose bumps rise on my arms. I
wrapped my fingers around the rose and grinned at Mom only to find a picture
that confused me. She wasn’t smiling—wasn’t scowling either—but she looked very
blank. I couldn’t describe her expression. I only knew it wasn’t right. Turning
back to Barry, I found the excited glitter in his eyes I’d wanted to see on
Mom’s face. So I continued to beam at him.

“Thank you. Oh, wow, thank you. Is it real?”

He laughed, nudging Mom in the shoulder as if sharing an
inside joke with her. “Listen to this girl.
Is
it real
? Of course it’s real. You think I’d give one of my ladies fake
gold?”

I beamed. My first pure gold piece of jewelry. “Wow.”

Mom still had nothing to say. Her odd expression remained,
so I cleared my throat, picked up my fork, and began to eat again as if nothing
had just happened. But all the while, my free hand lingered on my new gold
necklace and my face tingled with excited heat.

I didn’t realize my mother’s problem until after supper. I
hurried to the bathroom to see how the necklace looked on me. After staring at
my reflection in the mirror for a solid minute, turning slightly to the left
then the right, I decided I looked older and much more mature with gold wrapped
around my throat. Now all I needed was some fur, pearls, a couple diamonds, and
I’d officially be a high roller. I grinned at my image and caressed the
golden-red rose.

Dashing from the restroom, I hurried back to the kitchen to
tell Mom and Barry how much I approved of my new gift when I heard their
conversation as they cleared the supper table.

“…thought we discussed this, Barry. You said you wouldn’t
constantly load her down with presents.”

I skidded to a halt and pressed a hand to my heart. What was
this? Mom didn’t
approve
of my gift?

Barry managed an uneasy laugh. “Oh, come on, Kate. I hardly
call one little necklace a load of presents. Besides, this is a special
occasion. She starts a new school tomorrow. She’s got to be nervous and—”

“Christmas is a special occasion,” my mom cut in. “Her
birthday. Graduation. Tomorrow is just any other day, and I don’t want you
spoiling her even though I know you can afford it. This is my daughter, and we
agreed I would raise her as I saw fit.”

From the hallway, I frowned. I wouldn’t call going without a
dad for thirteen years spoiled. I wouldn’t call one little pick-me-up gift,
given out of thoughtful consideration, spoiled. Mom was being completely
irrational, and I had no idea why. She was supposed to be on my side here.

Betrayed and hurt, I wrapped my fingers around the necklace
and listened to her continue. “I mean, come on, Barry. A fourteen-carat gold
necklace for her first day of school?” Her laugh was harsh and brittle. “You
didn’t even give me that for our wedding.”

I gasped and quickly slapped my hand over my mouth before
anyone could hear my shock. In a blinding flash of intuition, everything became
clear. Mom wasn’t worried about me turning into a pampered brat.

She was jealous.

I clutched the necklace until the imprint of a rose embedded
itself in my palm.

This didn’t seem real. I’d been without a father for over
eighty percent of my life. I was starting a new school tomor
row so
she
could live out her happily ever after. I was doing all the sacrificing here.
How could she be so petty as to feel jealous and spiteful toward me? Why
couldn’t she be happy, or even grateful, for everything I was about to go
through for her?

As she sulked around the kitchen, slamming dirty dishes into
the sink, rage seethed under my skin.

My own mother wanted me miserable.

I fled to the privacy of my new room, pushed aside an opened
box I still needed to unpack, and plopped onto my bed. After reaching for the cell
phone Barry had given me when Mom and I moved in, I texted a quick SOS to my
three friends and then immediately booted up the laptop Barry had also provided
for me to attend Southeast. Once I had Schy, Adam, and Bridget online in our
favorite chat room, I told them about the necklace and my mom’s reaction.

Bridget typed in a frown face. “
You gotta be kidding me. How could she do that
?”

“
What an insensitive
thing to say
,” Adam wrote. “
You’re
the least pampered girl I know
.”

“
She must be jealous
of his attention to you
,” Schy suggested.

I smirked. “
That’s
what I thought
.”

“
And, come on.
You’re even transferring schools so she
could get married
,” Bridget spoke up.

Exactly. See, my best friends got it. Why hadn’t my own
mother?

“
Ask her again if you
can stay at Hillsburg
,” Schy ordered.

At that moment, my friends’ proposal sounded brilliant. I
was no longer concerned about sacrificing myself for someone so ungrateful. And
I’d never wanted to attend Southeast anyway. I loathed the very idea with a
burning passion. Every time I thought about what would happen when I saw Ryder
Yates again, I started breathing all funny with these strange, wheezing pants.
And that happened from merely thinking about it. When it happened for real, I’d
probably just pass out cold at the guy’s feet.

After thanking my pals for their support, I logged off and
searched the house for my mom.

I found her in the master bathroom. She stood in front of
the long vanity that stretched across the length of the wall. Something ancient
reflected in her eyes as she studied her own image. Smoothing age-defying
lotion over her neck and upper chest, she swirled her fingers in a sad, slow
rhythm over the pale flesh where the faint traces of wrinkles were beginning to
sag. It confirmed my jealousy suspicions. She was probably feeling
self-conscious because Barry hadn’t given her anything sparkly to wrap around
her own wrinkly, old throat.

Then she let out a sigh and wiped at the corner of her eye,
and it struck me. I mean
really
struck me.

She hurt.

What a strange sensation to realize my mother was a person
too, a true-life human with feelings, not just someone who existed purely to
care and provide for me. My mom possessed the same imperfect, human emotions I
did: jealousy, insecurity, weakness, pain.

Her weary, depleted manner made me pause. It reminded me
this was all just as new for her as it was for me. She hadn’t been married to
anyone for thirteen years. And she hadn’t known her new husband all that long.
There was no worn, comfortable routine to her life, just like there was none in
mine. She was going through her own firsts and fears. It would take time for
each of us to adjust and adapt.

I moved back a step to leave her alone, but she caught sight
of me in the mirror and whirled around.

“Grace,” she gasped, her cheeks flushing as if she’d been
caught robbing a bank instead of putting on lotion.

Since we were already facing off and I still did not want to
attend Southeast, I decided to bring up the matter anyway, though the insight
into her had calmed me enough to use a softer voice when I asked, “Are you sure
there’s no way I can’t keep attending Hillsburg?”

She sighed, gritting her teeth and narrowing her eyes into
slits. With her jaw clamped the way it was, the words growled their way from
her throat. “You’re not going to bring that up again, are you?”

Well, yeah. I thought I just had.

“I can find a part time job on the weekends and pay Adam and
Schy for gas money to come pick me up every day.”

“Grace, you’re already enrolled in Southeast and are starting
there
in the morning
.”

“But—”

“No. This isn’t up for re-discussion.”

I stomped my foot. “Mom, you’re not even listening.”

From then on, I lost my grasp on everything I’d been feeling
only seconds earlier. All the insight I’d caught into her psyche, the
understanding connection, it all vanished and floated off as if I hadn’t even
experienced it.

“You’re the one that isn’t listening, Grace. I said no, and
that’s final.”

Balling my hands down at my sides, I allowed myself to
envision letting that fist fly. But a deep breath later, I calmed and settled
for a killer glare. Whirling away, I stomped toward the doorway of her and
Barry’s bedroom until I saw him standing in the doorway, watching us. His gaze
held sympathy and regret.

I faltered since it’d be rude to bulldoze over the innocent
bystander.

He shifted his gaze to my mom. “Kate, maybe she should stay
at Hillsburg. She’s used to it and—”

“Don’t even start with me, Barry.”

I glanced back at my mom in time to catch the look she sent
him. It wasn’t something a new bride should be shooting her new husband. But it
caused Barry to lift his hands and back out of the doorway. In the next second,
he disappeared.

“Way to go,” I muttered. “Lose him before you’re even
married two months.”

Without waiting around to catch her response, I flounced
from the room and went straight to my own domain. Shutting myself inside, I
told my friends Hillsburg was a definite no-go. For the next hour or so, I let
them console me.

When mom dropped by to warn me I should turn in because the
next day was going to be a big one—I needed a good night’s rest—I snarled
something like, “Christmas is a big day. My birthday or graduation is a big
day. I thought tomorrow was just
any
other
day.”

She sniffed and left me alone, and I purposely stayed up
another two hours to spite her, unpacking some of my boxes.

Besides, when I finally did lie down and close my eyes,
dreams were the last thing that came. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t lie still,
couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen in less than eight hours when I
saw Ryder Yates again.

Chapter 5

New school.

Couldn’t breathe.

The winter chill didn’t help. Neither did the restless three
hours of sleep I’d managed to snag.

It had snowed overnight but not enough to cancel school,
unfortunately. When I exited my room yawning that morning to head toward the
shower, I spotted Mom at the kitchen window, a steaming mug of something in her
hands as she stared outside at the white-covered backyard.

“Still upset I’m not letting you drive twenty-five miles
through this weather today so you can go to Hillsburg?” she asked, keeping her
back to me.

She sounded so smug; I didn’t answer,
merely directed a dirty glare at her back and continued toward the bathroom.
Truth be told, I would’ve rather been in a nice, heated car than walk those
eight blocks to school through the frigid weather. It wasn’t just snow either,
I discovered as soon as I stepped outside. A layer of ice hid under all the
cute, puffy white stuff. It was slippery and miserable, and I cursed my mother
the entire trip.