Grace (15 page)

TUESDAY, DEC.
25

Joel was always the first to wake on Christmas morning, though usually at some inhuman hour like four
A.M
. This led to the instigation of the “sunrise rule,” which basically meant no waking our parents before there was discernible sunlight. It was overcast that morning so Joel got away with fudging it a little.

In our home, Christmas morning was governed by ironclad tradition. Every year we started Christmas by gathering in my parents' bedroom to read the second chapter of Luke. I don't know how my mother remembered whose turn it was each year, or even if she really did, but she always seemed to know.

That morning it was my turn to read. In years past, fueled by the anticipation of Christmas surprises, I read as fast as humanly possible until my mother would tell me to slow down enough to be understood, or at least to auctioneer speed. This morning I was perfectly articulate. Partially because I was growing up and partially because, for the first time in my life, the words actually meant something to me.

As I thoughtfully read the words Joel looked crazed with anticipation. My father looked just as eager for me to finish but only because he wanted to go back to bed. Only my mother was smiling.

I suppose that it meant more to me now that I understood a little of what Mary was going through. Grace was with child, and I took her in. The clubhouse was like a stable or at least not a whole lot nicer.

After I read the scripture, my mother led us in a family prayer, then my dad got out his windup Brownie movie camera and went out into the living room to wait for us, shouting instructions like a Hollywood movie director.

Not surprisingly, there weren't a lot of presents that year and my parents had strategically spaced them to make it look like more. I noticed that except for the insignificant gifts that Joel and I had bought for them, they hadn't bought gifts for each other.

Joel got a new baseball mitt and bat, which was all he really wanted, a navy blue sweater and gray pants, and the ball and baseball cards I had bought him.

I got a green argyle sweater and a pair of brown corduroy pants, two board games, Life and Mouse Trap, and a book about frontier men. Joel got me a large box of Swedish Fish.

After the last present was opened my mom and dad went back to bed while Joel and I played with our new treasures. About an hour later, my mom got up to make breakfast. I was setting up the Mouse Trap game in the living room when my mother came in and sat by me.

“I'm sorry there wasn't much this year,” she said.

“I got plenty,” I said, trying to balance the game's small plastic teeter-totter. “Besides, that's not what Christmas is about.”

My mother said nothing and I looked up to see she was looking at me, pride evident in her eyes. “Eric, I don't know everything that's happening in your life right now. But I know this has been a hard year for you; losing our home, coming to a new school, and leaving all your friends behind. But you've grown up so much. I'm so proud of you. Maybe coming to Utah wasn't such a bad thing.”

I smiled. “Maybe not.”

She smiled back at me. “Come on, let's have some breakfast.”

 

Mom always made special breakfasts on Christmas: cranberry corn muffins from scratch, hash brown potatoes with cheddar cheese, fried eggs, and sausage links. We looked forward to the Christmas breakfast table almost as much as the tree.

After breakfast we all helped my mother clean up. Joel and I put on our new sweaters and slacks while my parents dressed in their Sunday best.

Then I went into the bathroom and put a washcloth under hot water and held it to my forehead until it was hot. I dried my face with a towel and walked to my parents' room.

“Mom.”

She was rubbing her hands with Jergens lotion. “Yes, dear?”

“I don't feel well. I think I have a fever.”

She turned and looked at me. “You do look a little flushed.” She put her cheek against my forehead. “You're warm.”

“Would you mind too much if I just stayed home and went to bed?”

She frowned. “Maybe we should stay home with you.”

I hadn't anticipated that response. “Mom, I'm almost fifteen.”

“I know. But it's Christmas. I just want us to be together.”

“I don't want to ruin your plans. I'll be okay.”

She ran her fingers through my hair. “Okay. Why don't you go lie down and I'll get you some aspirin.”

I went to my bed. She came in a few minutes later with a glass of water and two aspirin. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” I took the pills and handed the glass back to my mother.

“We're going to be going soon. Do you need anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

“If you need anything you can reach us at Aunt Estelle's or Aunt Gail's a little later. We won't be home until after dark.”

“Okay,” I said. “Have a good time.”

“You get feeling better.” She kissed my forehead. “Hmm. You already feel cooler.”

“Must be good aspirin.”

She grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Five minutes later Joel walked into the room. He was angry. “You faker! Now I have to go alone.”

“Sorry.”

“No you're not. You just want to be with
her
.”

“We have special plans.”

“But what about me?” His face screwed up like he was going to cry, then he stomped out.

As soon as the Bee pulled out of the driveway I got out of bed and went to my parents' bedroom. I got in my mother's drawer and took out one of her silk scarves. Then I set about getting ready for my surprise. It was more than an hour later when I went to get Grace.

“Just a minute,” Grace said as she came out. She held two small packages in her hand.

“What's that?”

“I have surprises too.”

When we got to the house I pulled the scarf from my pocket. “Before you go in, I need to blindfold you.”

“How exciting.”

I rolled the scarf up and tied it around her eyes, then took her by the arm, opened the door, and led her through the kitchen into our dining room. I took the things she carried and set them on the table.

“Just a minute. Don't go anywhere.”

“It smells like coconuts,” she said. “What are you doing?”

I turned on the living room stereo. The bright strum of a ukulele filled the room.

“Hawaiian music,” she said.

While she stood there, blindfolded, I kissed her. I didn't think her smile could have grown larger but it did. “That's a nice surprise.”

“That wasn't my surprise. Just an opportunity.” I untied the scarf.

She rubbed her eyes then looked around the room.

“
Mele Kalikimaka
,” I said. “Welcome to Hawaii.” I had clipped pictures of Hawaii (as well as a few places that I thought looked like Hawaii, like Fiji and Formosa) from my mom's
National Geographic
magazines and hung them on the walls of the kitchen. I had decorated the table with a thatched bamboo runner, and on the table there were two candles placed in coconut shells.

“Candles,” Grace said.

“Well, they were supposed to be tiki torches, but I couldn't find any of those.”

She laughed. “Good thing. Try explaining to your parents how you burned down their house holding a luau for a runaway girl.”

I smiled. “Before we eat we need to dress the part.” I lifted a small box from the table. “For you.”

“Really?” She lifted the lid and her face lit up. She pulled out the cloth inside.

“It's a Hawaiian muumuu.”

She let it unfold. “Oh, it's beautiful. Should I put it on now?”

I nodded. “You remember where the bathroom is?”

“I do,” she said.

“But first.” I handed her another box. She excitedly lifted the lid. Inside there was a bright red flower. “That's for your hair.”

She was positively beaming. “I'll be right back.”

She walked down the hall to the bathroom. When the door shut, I went to my room and put on a bright red Hawaian shirt and a plastic lei. Then I went back to the dining room. When she walked in, I just stared. She had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes sparkled, and the soft fabric of her dress hung gracefully on her body. She was glowing. I was tongue-tied.

“Look at you,” she said. “You look so cute.”

“I'd much rather look at you.”

“Thank you,” she said coyly. “I like the flower. I thought it was plastic, but it's real.”

“I know. They look fake. It's called an anthurium. But I'm sure you already knew that.”

She just smiled at me.

“I have a lei for you too, but it really is plastic.” As I draped the lei around her neck, she kissed me. Then she whispered, “
Mele Kalikimaka
to you too.”

I pulled out her chair, and she sat down.

“For dinner I made us a Hawaiian luau feast. At least the best I could do in Utah. I'll be back.”

I went to the kitchen and brought back our first course: a bowl of pineapple chunks in heavy syrup and two virgin piña coladas with little paper umbrellas.

She clapped with delight.

“There's a Polynesian woman at Heller's. She told me what to make.”

Over the next hour I brought out ham and white rice, rice noodles, and yams.

As we were finishing the last course, she said, “I can't believe you really made all this.”

“Pretty much. Except what's next.”

“What's next?”

“Glad you asked.” I went to the kitchen and brought back a pineapple upside-down cake. “Dessert.”

I set it down at the table and cut two pieces, serving hers first. Then I sat down, watching her expectantly. She took a small bite.

“How is it?”

“It's delicious.”

“Do they eat that in Hawaii?”

She picked up a piece of the cake and held it to my mouth. “You try it.”

I took a bite. “That is good.”

“Told you.”

For a moment we just looked at each other. The earlier excitement had evolved into pleasant peace. Then I said, “Remember that night when I asked you how you really know when you were in love?”

“Yes.”

“I understand.”

Grace's eyes began to well up with tears. She came over and sat on my lap; laying her head on my shoulder. She began to cry softly. I gently rubbed her back. “It's okay.”

“This is the best day of my life. You're the answer to all my prayers.”

She leaned back from me and wiped her eyes.

“Oh, our candles are going out,” I said. The smoke from a dying candle snaked up toward the ceiling.

She turned back and looked at the remaining candle. “Before it goes out, what do you want to know more than anything?”

I didn't answer her for a long time. Then my smile vanished.

When she saw me frown, her smile disappeared as well. “What is it?”

I looked down, afraid to say what I was thinking. “Nothing.”

“No, what is it?”

I took a deep breath. “I want to know how this ends.”

She breathed out slowly, then she turned and stared into the flame. It felt like forever before she spoke. “My stepfather is gone.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere he can't hurt anyone ever again.”

I waited for more but she didn't offer anything. “Where are you?”

She didn't answer.

“Do you see Hawaii?”

She stared into the flame and I saw a trace of sadness in her eyes. Suddenly she looked back at me, as if the flame had released her. “I see Hawaii all around me,” she said. She kissed me. Then she said, “Let's dance.” She took my hands and pulled me up.

The song playing was slow, a Hawaiian lullaby. She draped her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder. I put my arms around her waist, savoring the warmth of her body next to mine. We gently rocked back and forth. It was the greatest moment of my life. Suddenly she leaned back. “I haven't been completely honest with you.”

“About what?”

“Promise me you won't be angry.”

“You couldn't say anything that would make me angry.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes tightly then touched her forehead to mine. “I've never been to Hawaii.”

“What?”

“I'm from Cheyenne, Wyoming.”

We stopped swaying. “Wyoming?”

“Hawaii was just someplace I've always wanted to be, the way some people think of heaven. After Stan…” She paused with the hurt that name carried. “It was a place I would go in my mind when he was…hurting me.” She looked at me. “Hawaii was my dream. And you gave it to me.” A tear fell down her cheek.

“It's okay,” I said. “I don't care where you're from. I'm just glad you're here.” I tried to pull her back into me but she stopped me.

“There's something else I have to tell you.” She looked down for a moment, then back into my eyes. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I called my aunt.”

“The one who hates you?”

“She doesn't hate me. She was really nice. I found out what really happened between her and my mom. Before my mother got married, she told her that she didn't like Stan and that she shouldn't marry him. My mother got really upset and told her she never wanted to talk to her again. Then my mother told Stan and he called and screamed at her and told her if he ever saw her or if she called the house she'd regret it. She was actually worried about us. Especially me. When I told her that I'd run away she said she wasn't surprised. She asked me to come live with her.”

“In Denver?”

Grace nodded.

“Did you tell her
everything?
”

“I told her about the baby.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn't ask who the father was. I wasn't ready to tell her yet. But she said it was good that I called and that she'd help me. She wanted me to come right away.”

“When was this?”

“Last Friday. I told her that I couldn't leave before Christmas.”

“Why not?”

She looked at me, puzzled that I didn't know. “Because of you. I don't want to leave you.”

Now my eyes filled with tears.

It was a few moments before I could speak. “This is good news, right?” I said, trying to sound happy.

“Yes. It is.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Friday.”

I looked down. She suddenly smiled. “You should come with me.”

“I can't.”

“I know it's impossible. I just…” She paused. “…I can't imagine being without you. You're the best friend I've ever had. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

She fell back into me and I pulled my arms tightly around her. We gently swayed through three or four more songs until the vinyl record began skipping. I went and put the needle back at the beginning of the record. When I returned she was sitting down.

“I have presents for you too.”

I sat down. She handed me two gifts. One was a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. The other was a piece of parchment rolled up in a scroll and tied with a yellow ribbon. “They're not as good as yours.”

“I'll be the judge of that.” I unwrapped the first package; it was a small blue velvet jeweler's box. I opened the lid; inside was an ornate silver locket.

“It's not for you to wear,” she said. “It's for you to hold.”

I looked at her, my heart feeling things I'd never felt before. “Thank you.”

“Open it.”

I unclasped the locket. On one side, beneath a small glass pane, was a picture of Grace. On the other side, also beneath glass, was a strand of her hair.

“I thought this way, no matter what happens, you could always have some of me near you.”

No matter what happens.
Something about the way she said this frightened me. She handed me the scrolled up parchment.

I gently unrolled it. It was a poem written in her graceful handwriting. I read it aloud.

 

I WOULD
By Grace Webb

We kissed and I held her until it was dark outside. Then I called my Aunt Marge's house and asked to speak to my mother. She asked how I was feeling and if I had made myself something to eat. She said they would be home in about an hour. Grace helped me clean up. After we finished we went back out to the clubhouse and held each other and talked until we heard the Bee pull into the driveway. I suppose that was one good thing about the Bee; you could hear it coming a block away. I went back inside and climbed in my bed. My mother came in to check on me.

“Your eyes are red,” she said.

“I know. But I'll be okay.”

Joel didn't say anything to me. It was just as well. Grace was leaving in two days. I didn't know how to begin to think about my life without her.

It was the best and worst night of my entire life.