Once Patrick fixed his attention on Grace, everyone at school considered them a couple. He walked her to class and sat with her at lunch. They were often seen together in the library, bent over textbooks and talking in low whispers. Grace had always had the reputation of nice-girl-with-a-brain, but as Patrick’s grades went up, he was seen as more than a handsome jock. Girls still pursued him, but he didn’t do anything about it. Nothing that Grace ever heard, anyway.
When Grace invited Patrick to church, he always had something else going on. He made it to Good Friday services and held her hand in the dim candlelight until Aunt Elizabeth gave them a fierce look. He squeezed her hand and let go. When Patrick asked her to junior prom, she didn’t think Aunt Elizabeth would let her go. But her aunt surprised them both: “You can take her if you have her home by eleven.” He seemed about to argue about the curfew, but one look at Grace silenced him. Aunt Elizabeth told Grace later she’d have to pay for her own dress, and it couldn’t come out of her college savings account. Grace found a green gown for ten dollars at the Salvation Army thrift store and added a pair of rhinestone earrings she’d bought for two dollars.
Patrick looked like a model in his tuxedo, and he knew how to dance. He held her close and made it easy for her to follow his lead. She felt little tremors every time their bodies brushed against each other.
He’d never kissed her, but that night in the car he did. “I like it that you’ve never been kissed by anyone but me.” Blushing, she asked him how he knew. “The way you keep your lips pressed tight together.” He leaned in. “Let me teach you a few things.” Grace put her hand against his chest. A shiver of alarm went through her when she felt how hard his heart was pounding and how warm he was. He drew back, studying her. “Okay.” He started the Regal. “You’re right. We don’t want to go down the road everyone else is on.”
She didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved.
When summer break came, Patrick flew to Colorado Springs. He called her twice the first week. He was staying with friends and having a great time. He didn’t know when he’d be back. She didn’t hear from him again. In mid-July, he walked into McDonald’s looking tan and happy. Sorry he hadn’t called, but he’d been on a camping trip in the Rocky Mountains. No cell reception up there. “We had a blast! I’ll tell you all about it when you get off work.” He took it for granted she’d been waiting for him all these weeks. Of course she had.
Compared to Patrick’s, her life was dull routine. She loved hearing about his close encounter with a bear and how many fish he caught in a mountain stream and how they tasted after being cooked over an open fire. She drank in his stories of how he had to help rescue one of his buddies by rappelling down a mountainside. The only things she had to talk about were James Agee’s A Death in the Family, Willa Cather’s My ántonia, Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, and four or five other books she’d read from the college-prep list. She could tell the moment Patrick lost interest and asked him more questions. He could have talked for hours about the wilds of Colorado.
Senior year brought changes in their relationship. They spent more time studying than going out. They both needed scholarships. Patrick put his energy into football and dropped basketball. “I’m not tall enough to make it on a college team.” Grace maintained a 4.0 GPA, but her aunt insisted Grace needed more outside activities and community service for university applications. Grace wondered if her aunt was intent on filling every waking hour so she would have no time to be with Patrick. Grace dropped ten hours at McDonald’s to make sure that didn’t happen, and then volunteered at the local library literacy program. She took on the third-grade Sunday school class and spent Sunday afternoons at a local convalescent hospital running errands for the nurses, which usually meant sitting and paying attention to agitated dementia patients who never received any visitors.
By graduation, plans had fallen into place. Patrick would receive a partial scholarship to play football at UCLA. His parents had set aside savings, but he would still have to work part-time off-season. Grace qualified for several scholarships and received acceptance letters from Berkeley and UCLA. If she maintained her grades and worked part-time and summers, she could make it through debt-free. She decided on UCLA.
Aunt Elizabeth got out the shovel and went to work in the backyard. Grace stood inside watching her aunt through the sliding-glass door. Aunt Elizabeth attacked the ground with fury, turning soil. She didn’t have to ask what had angered her aunt this time. “Only a fool turns down Berkeley for UCLA.” Aunt Elizabeth was so angry she had tears in her eyes. “No matter what I say or do, it always turns out the same.”
“I’ll work hard, Aunt Elizabeth.”
“Oh, I know that.” She had a look of anguish Grace didn’t understand.
She and Patrick didn’t see much of each other that last summer. He didn’t show up at McDonald’s. She wondered if he’d gotten a job. Hurt, Grace tried to put him out of her mind. Aunt Elizabeth didn’t ask or say anything about him.
Grace moved into the university dorm and started working ten hours a week at a coffee shop on campus. She thrived in her classes. She ran into Patrick once. He’d scorned the dorm and rented a small apartment, even knowing he’d blow through all his parents’ savings by the end of the year. He’d been in a hurry, and they hadn’t talked long. A couple months passed, and then he called. He was struggling with grades. She listened. He told her how lonely he was. She was lonely, too. He told her how much he missed being with her. She said they could meet at the library, study together the way they used to in high school. He said they’d get more done if she came to his apartment. She knew that wasn’t a good idea, but he sounded so depressed, she agreed.
They only kissed once that first day. The second time, they managed to study a few hours before they ended up on the couch. The next time, Patrick didn’t want to stop. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you since I walked into McDonald’s and saw you behind the counter. I need you, Grace. Don’t say no.”
Grace thought she loved him, too, but she knew what they were doing was wrong. She could hear a whisper in the back of her mind. This isn’t what I want for you, beloved. Leave this place.
When she tried to get up, Patrick groaned. “You can’t stop now.” He pulled her down beside him. “You can’t turn a guy on like this and not go all the way.” She felt guilty for letting it go so far. How could she say no now? Before she could make up her mind, it was too late. She gasped in pain. Patrick said he was sorry, but didn’t stop. When it was over, he held her. “Let’s get married. We’re old enough. Grace, I can’t make it without you.” Sitting up, he lifted her with him. Drawing her into his lap, he dug his fingers into her hair and kissed her. “Don’t tell your aunt.”
Grace didn’t want to think about what they’d done. She didn’t want to analyze what she was feeling now. A bubble of panic? The feeling she was at a crossroads and about to take another wrong turn?
Grace closed her mind to the convicting voice. I don’t care. He loves me. He said so. And it’s too late anyway. She just wanted to be loved. Was that so wrong? She wrapped her arms around Patrick and kissed him back. “Yes. Let’s get married.” Maybe then everything would be all right.
Patrick’s family was pleased when Patrick called with the news that they’d gone to Las Vegas rather than have a wedding in Fresno. Byron Moore couldn’t have been more supportive. “Elizabeth will say you’re too young, but you saved her a bundle of money.” He laughed. “And I think my son knows his own mind.” The Moores suggested a reception over spring break. Patrick agreed. He hoped they would receive gifts and money.
Grace had to gather courage to call Aunt Elizabeth to share the news of her marriage to Patrick. She held her breath, wondering if her aunt would say something affirming.
Aunt Elizabeth gave a defeated sigh and said, “Why am I not surprised?” before hanging up.