Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Grace and Casey waited patiently for a couple minutes, but just as she raised her arm to knock once more, the door swung open. The person standing in the open doorway, however, was not at all who Grace expected to see.

"Uh...hi. I wasn't expecting...well, anyway, how are you? Come here, give me a hug." she finally got out as she took a step toward her younger cousin, her arms encircling the slight girl in an honest embrace.

"I...I'm okay." answered her cousin, Adrienne Devereaux.

Adrienne was the only child of her mother's younger brother, her Uncle Christopher. She was 29 years old and already had a 14 year history of bulimia, a 'you name it she's done it' drug abuse issue, many serious identity crises, and a couple unsuccessful suicide attempts under her belt. Her cousin was also not what one would refer to as a likely success story. Adrienne was, to her misfortune, bi-polar, and sometimes the mania during an upswing got so bad that she couldn't sit still for ten seconds. Everything she did when she was manic, she did fast. Grace found it exhausting just to be in the same room with her during some of her worst episodes. But she loved her. And worried about her.

Grace also knew that Adrienne's mere presence here was usually not of a positive nature. It probably meant one of two things: Number one, she was on a downward spiral - crashing headfirst into severe depression - and had nowhere else to go at the time; or number two, something was wrong with the girls' grandmother, the woman whose house Grace had a feeling they could potentially all be occupying together for a while. Situations exactly like this were why Grace didn't believe in making plans. They never turn out the way you think they will. Never in her not-so-limited experience.

Still unclear as to what kind of situation she was walking into this time, she followed her cousin into the house and down the hall to the kitchen. Casey followed, but only partway, lying down on the cool floor just outside the room. Dogs didn't know sometimes it was easier to hide one's sadness or exhaustion. When she was sad, she cried; when she was exhausted, she slept. No regrets ever. Grace had prayed her whole life for that kind of simplicity.

In the kitchen, Grace found her grandmother seated at the kitchen table; a table of walnut with patina from fifty years of life and love, built by the elder woman's late husband. He was so rare, she knew in her heart, for she never saw him pass an object of true beauty without thanking God for the rare privilege he had just been granted. She felt truly blessed to have had the love of such a man. His passing left an empty space inside her she knew could never again be filled. That kind of love...only came once in a lifetime.

"Hi." offered the woman at the table, looking up briefly from the work of snapping the ends off green beans and tossing them absent-mindedly into a yellow plastic colander, the ends discarded into a small ceramic bowl off to the side.

Her hands were wet so she used forearm to brush from her face several strands of hair that had worked their way loose from the tightly wrapped bun of grey atop her head.

"Hi, Gram." replied Grace, rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders; a look resembling something like defeat washing over her face.

Unable to hold it any longer, she just let go of everything she had been feeling and stood there, helpless, bawling like a baby. Gram was out of her chair with her arms around her granddaughter in the blink of an eye. Parents and grandparents always have a favorite child or grandchild - they just aren't supposed to tell. It's a grand conspiracy. Parents and grandparents everywhere were in on it. And Grace had known, since she was old enough to understand, that she was her maternal grandmother's favorite; the family version of the teacher's pet. But the two of them had shared an intensely sad experience; more than either one could have survived alone. In actuality, together they survived a lifetime of sad experiences. So the family understood and accepted the extremely close relationship for what it was. It was necessary.

Grace wiped at the tears on her face with both hands, then wiped her damp hands on her pant legs. A few more escaped from her eyes, but she just let them roll down, staining red lines on her face.

"I...I really have to pee..." she stammered to get out as she started to laugh, her face still wet from crying.

Adrienne began to cackle as Grace was already beginning to unbutton her pants while she made a B-line for the bathroom directly behind where Gram was sitting. Grace was still laughing as she closed the bathroom door behind her. Their grandmother simply shook her head - while wearing a smirk, of course - as she took her seat and resumed snapping the ends off the green beans.

"I know you can hear me in there, Grace Victoria," belted out her grandmother, "and you and I and Genius here..." she continued, turning her head and gesturing toward Adrienne, still laughing, while she took a seat at the head of the table, "we all know you only come here, uninvited, for one reason. What did he do? Better yet, what did you do?" Gram asked her through the wall between the kitchen and the bathroom.

Genevieve Willet Devereaux, better known as Gram, was a fascinating woman, though her life didn't seem interesting at all to an outsider. She was a 72 year old widowed homemaker, with a modest estate in the tiny, coastal town of Aurora, North Carolina. She was widowed quite young; her husband died of a massive heart attack when he was a mere 47. Genevieve was 42 , with a grown daughter, Vivienne, and a son, Christopher, two years shy of graduating high school. Her husband, Jonathan, had been a hard-working man who had earned an honest living. They were anything but rich, but he had planned throughout their lives for what could happen. He wanted to make sure his wife and children were taken care of should something happen to him, so he had purchased quite a bit of life insurance. There was more than enough money to finish raising her children and retire very young. She held a part-time job as an algebra teacher at the local high school in those days, but there was no financial reason for her to keep that up after Jonathan's death. She had finished out the semester and resigned from her position at the end of the school year. Teaching algebra to totally disinterested teenagers was never her dream, just a diversion from the ennui of a small town. Something to occupy her day other than sitting around sipping tea, gabbing with the local ladies.

The toilet flushed and the water at the sink came on and turned off, then the door opened and Grace appeared, looking almost as if she were searching for another place to hide now that she had to abandon the bathroom. Instead of running for cover, she walked around the table and picked the chair directly across from Gram, raising it up and spinning it so it came down to rest backwards; then straddled the chair and put her hands up as she shrugged her shoulders, conveying to her grandmother that she was fresh out of answers. She needed someone to tell her what her next move should be. Grace had never been the type to whine or complain, but she looked so damn helpless now - someone had to take pity on her.

"What happened? Did he find out you're certifiably insane?" asked Adrienne jokingly. "Are you sure this time?" she quizzed, adding a touch of sarcasm to her last question.

"Yes, I'm sure. Smartass." was Grace's clever retort. "And nothing happened. That was part of the problem. It's not like he did something that made me angry and I just couldn't take it anymore. He didn't do anything at all. I don't even think Michael is capable of doing anything like that."

"Gracie, Michael is a good man. And he loves you. Hell, that man would walk though fire for you, girl." Gram said, joining the conversation.

"I know. I do. I know. And I'm consciously aware of the fact that a perfect man would be more than acceptable. So why is enough never enough for me? And that was not a rhetorical question." Grace said, her face twisted up with confusion.

Gram didn't respond immediately. She took the time to truly listen while someone was talking and she took the time to truly think about her response before it came out of her mouth. She was the most honest, forthright person Grace had ever known, family or otherwise. And if one was merely in search of sympathy, airing one's dirty laundry to Gram would definitely be a mistake. She didn't do sympathy unless she came to the conclusion that it was extremely well deserved. And her conditions were hard to meet.

"You know I love you, Gracie." was her opening line.

Grace nodded in affirmation as she waited for the boom to lower.

"I want you to listen this time, you hear?" Gram continued, "I mean really listen to what I'm about to say." she commanded gently, then paused for a moment, her eyes on Grace the entire time as she waited for the obvious response.

"All right..." began Grace until she saw her wise grandmother gesturing with her hands, prompting her to speak in agreement of her direction.

"Okay! Okay!" she retorted, raising both hands in the air in front of her as if motioning for someone to stop.

"Now I believe you." answered the elder woman, maintaining eye contact, a behavior she held in high regard, considering the lack of eye contact when speaking to someone to be an insult in proper company. "It is all you, Gracie. You have been with some great men. I mean fantastic, intelligent, decent human beings. And you sabotage it every time. We have all watched you, at one time or another, come unglued just about the time a relationship starts to become serious, monogamous. And this time, baby, you took it way too far if you aren't sure." she said, unable to come up with a more descriptive term.

"Gram, you don't understand. I'm trying to tell you there is something wrong with me!" Grace whined, watching her grandmother's face grow red trying not to laugh. "I mean seriously wrong with me!" she continued, despite Gram's making light of her problems. "I know you find all of this quite amusing, but humor me for a minute - no pun intended." she added as she waited for the laughter she believed would follow her last statement. But no laughter came.

"Grace, there is nothing wrong with you. You're just a late bloomer when it comes to men and romantic relationships." Gram said to her with no hint of humor in her voice.

"But..." Grace began.

"Shut up. Stop flapping your lips and clean the wax outta your ears!" ordered Gram. "You think too much. Either that or you don't think at all. And don't look confused when the message is clear. The only thing I could ever find wrong with you is that you spend entirely too much time wondering what's wrong with you. Don't think I can't say the same to you, miss." she stated, directing her attention toward Adrienne, who had remained absolutely silent the whole time Gram was reaming Grace.

"Don't even look my way!" squeaked Adrienne, just a smidgen of southern accent coming through, even though she tried so hard to hide it.

Adrienne Devereaux was a strange bird. Even people in the family could never quite figure her out. Sometimes she seemed to have a handle on things and her life would be sublime. Then sometimes she couldn't be left alone for five minutes for fear they might find her hanging with a noose around her neck or lying in a pool of her own blood, both wrists slashed deep with a razor blade. Grace thought very often about how scary and lonely her cousin's life must always have been. She was the most popular girl in high school - when she saw fit to attend, which wasn't very often toward the end. Even when she went away to college she had quite a following fairly quick. But then something happened and she came home for a while, to sort some things out. No one ever did manage to get out of her exactly what happened that was so bad it caused her to drop out of school. Not even her parents, who were devastated by her dropping out, even for a semester or two.

Gram was the only one Adrienne ever spoke to candidly about what went on in her head. And Gram never told even one of her secrets to anyone. She saw in front of her what was actually there. A tall, slender girl with long, silky, jet black hair and bright, green eyes - the kind one could become lost in if they held her gaze too long. She was the kind of beautiful that girls envied everywhere she went, with her pink cheeks and full, red lips. Without a drop of makeup she was...a knockout. But her beauty couldn't override her sadness, and her sadness unfortunately overrode pretty much everything. When she was sad, Gram was the only one who could pull her back from some of the dark places she would go; places from which some people never returned. And close as they had always been, not even Grace knew her cousin's very worst thoughts and feelings. The things they discussed, Grace knew, barely scratched the surface. Maybe the rest was simply too painful for her to say out loud. It was as if actually hearing her pain transformed into words made it more real; too real for her to bear knowing.

The slight, dark beauty had spent most of her adolescent and adult life battling this cruel, invisible monster inside her. When she started winning battles for a change, her life became well worth living. But it's almost as if she knew that, even though she had pulled herself out of one terrible depression, there would be another to come along and knock her down again eventually; so maybe she was simply trying to squeeze every tiny bit of living she possibly could into however much time she would be granted a reprieve from her pain and sadness. Grace couldn't blame Adrienne for the way she lived her life. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault she couldn't control her impulses the way normal people can. It wasn't her fault there were demons who came calling for her whenever they wanted a life to destroy. Grace sometimes imagined what she would do if it were her with this awful affliction. She sometimes thought that perhaps she would not do things so differently from her cousin. She thought, what else can one do but try like hell to enjoy and appreciate whatever time you are given by whomever doles it out.

"Okay, to be honest, I'm tired of lookin' at both of you right now. You're cluttering up my kitchen with your pity party, not even helping me with dinner. The two of you get out. Go on. I'm not kidding. Go. Go!" prodded Gram. "Dinner is at seven. Don't come back before then unless someone is bleeding. Profusely." she added.

"Going. We're going. See you at seven. And not a minute sooner." Grace got out with a straight face before she began to giggle.

Rolling her eyes, Adrienne added "All right. Going."

Both girls rose from their seats, Grace turning her chair back around to face the table and pushing it in. She grabbed hold of Adrienne's hand as she walked past, pulling her gently along as she headed out of the kitchen.

"Help me get my bags in?" Grace asked her cousin as she pulled her along.

"Is that a request or a demand?” queried Adrienne playfully. "Give me the light ones, dammit! I'm not breaking my back when we weren't even expecting you. Spoiled freakin' brat!" she said, laughing the whole time.

"Oh! You are SO a bigger brat than I am and you know it!" Grace threw back at her with a smile as they both walked outside to retrieve the many bags and boxes filling her car, and drag them inside and upstairs.

After three trips back and forth to the car, the two women had Grace's possessions at least upstairs and out of sight, into the bedroom she had called her own so often throughout her life. It was a spacious room with floor to ceiling windows that coaxed the sun's rays to spill through them, making it warm and cozy. It was this room that Grace always thought felt the most like home; more than any other room, in any other house she had ever occupied. And there were so many she had lost count a long time ago. Sadly she had no more insight than anyone else into what drove her to lead such a nomadic life. Nothing was ever planned, but it certainly seemed to turn out that way every time, everywhere she went. She had spent years trying to outrun the bad things in her life, trying being the operative word. Fast as she ran, it was never quite fast enough. Every time, after the race was run, Grace ended up back here, problems in tow.

While emptying her car and filling her room, she had completely forgotten about her poor, tired dog. Not only were she and Adrienne banned from the kitchen, Casey was definitely not welcome. Gram made it clear a long time ago that she wasn't going to tolerate a big beast with bad breath sniffing around her kitchen, begging for table scraps. So Grace headed downstairs to rescue her beloved pet before she got herself swatted with a rolled up newspaper, or worse, booted outdoors. She tiptoed down the hallway leading to the kitchen and found the sleek, black dog still splayed out on the floor. She must have been dreaming of chasing rabbits, Grace thought, as she stood there for a moment watching her legs twitching and kicking, a little whine escaping here and there. It almost seemed a shame to have to wake her, yet she did by leaning down and tugging gently on her collar. Casey opened her eyes, yawning and stretching on the floor before standing up to follow Grace upstairs quietly. Though Gram didn't approve of her getting up on the furniture, she allowed her to climb up on the bed and stretch out.

"You're a good girl, Case." she said, stroking one of her silky ears. "Good girl." she repeated as a yawn escaped her as well.

Grace laid down right beside her best pal, who wasted no time in stretching out all four legs, taking up almost the entire queen size bed. She threw an arm across the dog, hugging her like one would a giant teddy bear. Then tears deemed this an appropriate time to flow, slowly at first, one random tear escaping at a time, leaving behind proof of its existence in the red line that stained her face. Then the flood gates opened and Grace cried freely with no shame. Thoughts were racing through her mind at too fast a pace. She couldn't keep up. She mulled over her decision to leave Michael, not certain yet whether it was the right one to make. She considered the fact that maybe she was more like her mother than she realized, this having always been a sore spot for her. Then, of course, there was always having to begin her life over from scratch...again. Everything was coming to a head and she didn't have enough confidence in her ability to cope with all these things that appeared, at times, to be waiting quite impatiently for their respective answers.

She must have cried herself to sleep because the next thing Grace knew, she was being awoken by her cousin. And Adrienne had never been one to awaken someone gently or gradually. Especially her favorite cousin and confidante.

"Dinner! Get your lazy butt up!" she practically yelled directly in Grace's ear. "Do not make me pick this mattress up and dump you and Cujo in the floor." she added, making a less than valiant attempt to contain her laughter.

Knowing already that her cousin was impossible to ignore when she wished to be heard, Grace resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to leave the comfort of her soft, warm bed in order to shut Adrienne up. She supposed dinner cooked by Gram was a pretty darn good consolation prize anyway. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her eyes, still swollen from crying. She was so emotionally drained that she was beginning to feel the effects manifesting physically in her already exhausted body. Her energy level at this point was sorely lacking. And that was unacceptable to the normally fit and bubbly woman. She was always the one at the party who could not seem to stop dancing long enough to even flirt. Yet she was always the one surrounded by men of all ages. It seemed the more disinterested she appeared, the harder they tried to win her over. Having a man was never an issue for Grace. The men she had actually keeping her - now that was a different story.

After sitting upright for a moment and stretching her stiff, sore muscles, she was ready to face the inquisition she knew full well awaited her downstairs. She stood up quietly, so as not to awaken her still slumbering dog, and smoothed as best she could her rumpled shirt and pants. Gram was from that 'dress for dinner' southern era, when attire and manners were of the utmost importance; and Grace always felt just a little under-dressed and ever-so-slightly uncomfortable when dining with her. Even at home. Not that Gram had ever mentioned it. She never would. She didn't have to. It was something the people who knew her could simply sense. She conveyed more thoughts with her eyes than others did using all of their faculties. Gram was also excellent at interpreting body language and micro-expressions; movements and split second facial expressions that the average person doesn't even know have occurred, much less can comprehend their meanings. Grace had begun to notice lately that she as well appeared to have at least some of this ability. People just seemed easier for her to read in the past few years.

She could smell the intoxicating aroma of Gram's wonderful cooking as she descended the stairs. From the smell of things, the three women were dining on roast beef, fresh cut green beans, and undoubtedly some variation of the potato. That would definitely suffice. And Grace was absolutely ravenous, having eaten pretty much nothing the entire day. Stress either killed her appetite or simply made her forget to stop and eat sometimes. It was too much trouble for her to take time out to do something she frankly didn't enjoy that much in the first place. Food for her was strictly a necessity, not a luxury. Sometimes she found this surprising, since growing up she didn't always know if she would receive anything to eat at all. Adrienne was an enigma where food was concerned as well. She was raised in a decent home and never knew the pain and sadness of going to bed hungry, yet she would throw up almost everything she ate - as if she believed it to be poison to her system. Grace shook her head at the thought as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Grace could hear the clanking of dishes and Adrienne's voice as she walked down the hall to the kitchen. She felt every muscle in her body tense up in anticipation as she entered the room. Adrienne turned around when she heard her and shot her a look that seemed to say "good luck" as she carried a large bowl of mashed potatoes and placed it on the table, then took a seat. Grace walked to the table and took a seat as well; her usual seat, directly across from Gram, who was already seated and pouring herself a glass of iced tea from the glass pitcher on the table.

"Grace, you look like hell." Gram shot her way, cocking one eyebrow up the way she always did when she was feeling inquisitive.

"Thanks, Gram. You never were one for sugar-coating things, were you?" Grace asked with her usual sarcasm, as she accepted the platter of roast beef Adrienne was offering her and stabbed a rather large piece of the tender meat with the serving fork, then shook it off the fork onto her plate.

Not waiting for an invitation to join the conversation, Adrienne piped in with "I'm going to have to side with Gram on this one, Cuz. You seriously look terrible. And you just don't seem like yourself. I've never seen you so...tired."

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt this tired either. I just feel...I don't know...completely...lost." Grace whimpered. Spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate, then reaching for the green beans, she added "Gram, I'm sure you have an appropriate lecture already picked out, but can we please not do it tonight? I don't think I have the energy or the attention span right now."

Gram didn't respond to Grace's question right away. Instead, she extended her arms, offering a hand for each girl to take. The cousins both accepted a hand and put their heads down, ready for Gram to say grace so they could begin eating. Both knew better than to even take a bite of anything before giving thanks. Not in this house, at this table. It wasn't that religion was such a big issue - Gram didn't even attend church - but she did believe in a higher power and being thankful for the resources she was certain were provided for us by that power. For the most part, Grace agreed with her grandmother's ideas about faith and theology. Her confusion about God and faith and all that had been a fairly recent occurrence; surprising because of her childhood, which would have made anyone question the mere existence of any sort of guiding force. After all, what kind of God would let the awful things Grace lived through happen to a child? Why would a loving higher power allow any child to go to bed hungry or live in constant fear of something or someone?

Grace had been so deep in thought she didn't hear the blessing; only her grandmother and cousin both chiming in with "Amen". She mumbled an Amen herself, then proceeded to shovel the delicious food into her mouth, hoping that maybe if she pretended to be very interested in her plate, Gram would leave her alone to enjoy her meal. Of course, that was probably just wishful thinking. The elder woman was famous for putting her two cents in, whether the advice was welcome or not. She really could not care less what people thought or said about her, though she chose to reside in a small town full of nothing but nosy busybodies. Grace sometimes thought that Gram actually enjoyed doing or saying things for no other reason than to shock the conservative townspeople. She must have enjoyed it; she kept on shocking them, year after year.

Looking up from her plate briefly, she braced herself for the barrage of questions that should have been coming her way. But Gram appeared to be more interested in eating than talking, for when they made eye contact, she simply nodded at Grace and put another forkful into her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace could see Adrienne toying with her food; just pushing it around on her plate, thinking that would actually fool someone into thinking she was eating it. She was sure Gram noticed this as well, yet she wasn't lecturing her either. It was like being in the Twilight Zone, she thought. She was aware there was something amiss in her and she definitely did not feel like her normally care-free self, but she had no idea what was causing her grandmother to behave so out of character. Adrienne was the only one acting normal - however normal it is to refuse your body such needed nourishment. Still, it was the norm for her to not eat much; and not talk much, for drawing attention to herself was drawing attention to the fact that she definitely had an eating disorder. How she could be so disillusioned to believe that people didn't know, Grace had always wondered.

Aside from small talk, nothing much else was said at dinner. Grace was relieved and thankful for the reprieve she was granted - even if it was only for the night. The three women finished their meal and Gram proceeded to put away any leftovers, while Adrienne and Grace cleared the dishes off the table and piled them up on the counter next to the sink, which was already full of dirty pots and pans.

"Girls, I have a bit of a headache. Think I'm gonna turn in early tonight. I trust the two of you will do something about that." Gram said, pointing to the mountain of dirty dishes. "Well, good night then." she added as she turned and walked out of the room, headed for the stairs.

Adrienne and Grace both stared at each other in disbelief. Though neither girl said so, it unnerved them to see their grandmother behaving so out of character. This was the woman who normally could not be kept down - headache or not. Grace felt the lines on her forehead wrinkle as she frowned, worrying about what had caused such a change in Gram. She didn't think she could bear it if something were seriously wrong with her.

"Addie..." Grace began, using the nickname only she used for her cousin. "What's going on? Is there something I should know? Please don't keep it from me if you know something." she begged her.

"I swear, I don't know any more than you do. I drove her into town just yesterday to do some shopping, and I couldn't keep up with her! She was fine. Gracie, maybe she really just has a headache." answered Adrienne. "Don't get all worked up. I'm sure it's nothing. It seems you have enough on your own plate right now." she added.

In an attempt to cheer her cousin up a little, Adrienne picked up the nozzle on the sink that pulled out and held it up, aiming it at Grace like a gun.

"Don't you dare!" squealed Grace as she backed up quickly to get out of reach of the sprayer.

 "Addie...put it down and no one has to get hurt!" she laughed as she looked around for something within reach she could use for a weapon as well.

"Okay. Truce." said the younger of the two cousins, still wearing an impish grin.

"Why don't I trust you?" Grace joked in response to Adrienne's peace offering.

"Come on. I'll wash, you dry." offered Adrienne. "Seriously. I know you're tired, old woman."

"I've got less than a year on you...brat." was Grace's clever retort.

The two girls took playful jabs at each other as they worked together to restore Gram's kitchen to its normal pristine state. When they had cleaned to the best of their ability, Adrienne said good night and headed upstairs, while Grace filled two bowls for her dog, one with water, the other with dog food; and, of course, a small piece of roast beef and spoonful of mashed potatoes. Just for the night, though she knew Gram would frown on it, she carried the bowls upstairs to her bedroom so Casey could eat without disturbing her.

While Casey ate and drank, Grace changed into pajamas and washed the grime of the day off her face. When her dog was finished, she snuck her quietly downstairs and out the back door.

"Go on, girl. Hurry up, Mommy's tired. It's been a long day..." the last half of the statement talking more to herself than to her dog.

Casey came running up to Grace when she was done, wagging her little nub of a tail at a furious pace, like always. She and Casey walked back upstairs and went in the bedroom, closing the door. They both got into bed, Grace under the covers and Casey on top of them. Turning in a circle until she found a comfortable spot, the dog laid down, resting her head on one of her mistress' legs. Grace petted her softly until they both drifted off to sleep.