Grace felt a rush of love for the older woman. Katherine had grieved almost as hard as she had at Petra’s death. Katherine was always willing to help out in any way she could, while Grace’s friends had drifted away after the accident. Grace tried not to take it personally. Her friends were as young as she was, and when Grace had taken on the children, she had been catapulted into a completely different reality from theirs. Still, the lack of connection with her old friends felt like an abandonment.
“That’s so good of you,” Grace said to Katherine, her voice thick with emotion. She would pack up the serving platters and give them to Katherine as a thank-you, and if Grace had to explain how she got them, so be it. “I wanted to ask you about something else too. I’m looking to trade Chloe’s toddler bed to someone for a twin-sized one. Would you be willing to tell the parents of your daycare kids, to see if any of them might be interested?”
“Be delighted to,” said Katherine. “I’m sure we’ll find someone who’ll be happy to trade.”
“Great, thanks so much,” Grace said. “Can I bring the kids over at eight? The work day is supposed to start at nine, and that will give me time to get ready.”
“You bet.”
Grace ended the call quickly and turned her attention to other things. She washed the lunch dishes. Their stack of library books were due in a few days. She bagged and set them by the front door. Then she put the kids down for an afternoon nap. That sent Chloe into another meltdown, and when things finally quieted down, Grace did her physical therapy exercises. After that she worked on her resume. She had two versions going. One of them listed her actual college credits. The other was a resume built on hope and included the bachelor’s degree she had not yet earned. Louisville was still hurting from the long recession. Jobs were hard to find, and she had to make her resumes look as good as she could.
Something had to give, somehow, sometime. The law of averages said it had to. Meanwhile, Grace felt like she had been locked in a pressure cooker and set on a burner that was turned on high. It wasn’t going to be a pretty sight when that pressure cooker exploded.
She hit another wall, staggered to the couch, and a black hole sucked her down again. She slept hard, and when she woke a half hour later, the house was still silent. When she checked on the children, she found both still sleeping.
My goodness. Could she actually grab some time for herself?
She went to the kitchen and used the leftover coffee from that morning to make herself a glass of iced coffee, then she sat to stare blankly at the clean table.
She wondered what her high school friend Jacqui was doing this summer. The last time they had talked, Grace had just gotten home from the hospital. Jacqui had stopped by the house to say hi. The visit was awkward. Grace watched as Jacqui looked everywhere in the living room except at Chloe and Max, who were playing on the floor. Jacqui said she couldn’t stay long because she had to study for a test the next day, then she looked stricken. After that, they had exchanged a couple of e-mails. Then silence. Grace wondered if Jacqui was even still in the area or if she had gotten a job somewhere else after graduation.
The ghosts were silent. Nothing moved, either in the house or outside. The summer heat blanketed the land like a lover.
She didn’t want to have quiet time to herself. She didn’t want to think about that terrible vision, not when she was alone. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself and huddled in her chair.
This time when Khalil appeared, he did so gently. His presence curled into the kitchen like a tendril of soft breeze. Her heart leaped, but not from irritation. She opened her eyes and turned in her chair and tried not to show how glad she was that he had come.
Khalil wore black, and once again his long raven hair was pulled back. The afternoon sun slanting through the kitchen window touched his ivory features with gold. His regal face was grave, contemplative. For a moment he looked like a sculpture created by one of the masters, his impossibly graceful form freed forever from priceless marble by Michelangelo’s genius.
She cleared her throat. “I thought you were coming tonight.”
He walked toward her, pulled out a chair and sat down. “You said to come when the children were asleep. They are. You have also rested.”
Just as before, he filled the entire house with his presence. She took a deep breath and let go of the tension that had built up between her shoulder blades throughout the day. She asked, “How did you know I rested?”
“I checked in earlier. You were asleep on the couch.” His too-keen diamond gaze focused on her face.
She nodded and looked away, feeling awkward under his scrutiny. She could waste time feeling strange about him looking in the house when she was asleep, but that seemed like a little too much, too late, when he’d already shown he didn’t have human sensibilities or boundaries.