Page 31 of You're the Reason

“Because this is built on the sand and doesn’t fall down?” That was a big testimony against it. “Isn’t it celebrating its hundred and fiftieth anniversary this fall?”

Ms. Margret nodded. “Along with the town.”

“So did you decide the old song was wrong?”

“Well, the song came from the Bible, so I believed it had to be true, so I asked my dad.” She pointed to the base where the red bricks disappeared into the light sand. “He told me that the lighthouse isn’t built on the sand but in the sand.”

On. In. What was the difference? But Grace sent a smile like she did, in fact, understand the significance. It must not have been convincing because Ms. Margret continued.

“If it were on the sand it would shift with the winds and storms. That would be very unstable. But the builders dug deep to a firm foundation—a solid rock you could say. So as the sands shift around it, that solid rock keeps it strong.” She picked up grains of sand like she had done earlier. “Many of the things of our lives will come and go. If we try to find our source of joy there, we will be an unstable lighthouse. But if we dig deep and anchor ourselves to something unchanging—even when life shifts around us—we can stay strong.”

“You mean faith.” And there it was. The big lesson. She’d have to be dense to miss that one. But what sounded simple out of Ms. Margret’s mouth wasn’t that simple when it came to her life.

“Faith is definitely my bedrock. And I think it’s the best place to ground yourself. That is why I chose it.” She sent Grace a wink. “But you must make that choice for yourself. Because as much as I loved ballet in my own life, it was shifting sand. You need to dig deeper to find out who you really are.”

“I’m not sure faith is my thing. I don’t know what my thing is. Everything just seems cloudy.”

Grace’s phone pinged with an incoming text, and she pulled it out.

>>ALEC: We are running some auditions in the Auditorium Theatre – 6/22 12:30 p.m. =Madame Laurent wants to see you dance Giselle. Don’t be late.

Dance Giselle? Did that mean they wanted her back? The idea of it spread an energy through her body all the way to her fingers. That was what Ms. Margret didn’t get. Ballet wasn’t shifting sand in her life. It had always been her bedrock. Her identity. Which meant if that crumbled now, everything in her life would tumble down.

But the twenty-second was in just over two weeks. Could she be ready by then? Dr. Medler had been thrilled with her progress on her first visit, but if she was ever going to be ready, she needed to get stronger.

For as high of a level as Grace had trained for ballet, Madame Laurent had believed in pushing through pain, not rehabbing. She had already felt uncertain about how to follow the instructions Dr. Medler had given her for PT exercises. Last thing she needed was for them to make her knee worse.

But it wasn’t like she had a plethora of training options in Heritage. Which meant she had to convince Seth to help her. Besides, she suspected Seth would be an expert. But with the quick way he dismissed the idea, that wouldn’t be easy. Then again, Grace hadn’t gotten to where she was by giving up when things got hard. She glanced from the lighthouse back to her phone.

GRACE

I’ll be there.

Besides, all she needed was one or two sessions. How could Seth say no to that?

six

He needed money and soon. Seth pushed his run a little harder as he turned north on Henderson back toward his place. Maybe he’d cut across the square. Paychecks were issued every other Friday, but his hours this week would be on the next paycheck, which meant it would be another two weeks and two days before he saw any money. That timing worked for his mom’s rent and his place, but he needed money for gas, not to mention he’d been reduced to eating ramen. And for a guy who normally ate three sandwiches for lunch, the lack of calories was killing him. Maybe he should have saved his energy this morning, but lately he’d needed to run more than ever.

Seth gave a quick glance up and down Henderson and Richard, then angled toward the square, determined to beat his time from yesterday. Checked the time on his watch then started to pick up the pace. He lifted his head just in time to narrowly avoid Otis, who sat in the middle of the sidewalk. He had definitely not been there yesterday.

Grace had started her workout again at six, leaving Seth with the need for a run by six-fifteen. She no longer started with Bach, but somehow, he’d become highly attuned to her every sound. The opening of the front door, the creak of the floor when she jumped, even the pounding of her slippers with her leaps and turns seemed to come through the floor. Maybe he could invest in some better insulation.

He’d only been at this faith thing a few years, but wasn’t God supposed to help provide? There was that verse about the birds and flowers. All he needed was a tank of gas. He’d make it to work and back today but tomorrow?

A little help, God.

He slowed to a walk and checked his pulse. He was about to turn into the parking lot toward his apartment when a bang followed by a groan came from a nearby porch. He glanced over as Pastor Nate massaged his hand and seemed to be biting back a few choice words. A green recliner sat half-in and half-out of his front door. The chair wasn’t huge, but big enough to be awkward for one person.

Seth stopped next to the fence. “You okay?”

Nate looked up. “Hey, Seth. Jon said you were moving back. Glad to hear it. I was hoping to talk longer at the baby shower, but well... no one expected the baby to take the party as a green light to make an appearance. But welcome to town.”

Seth hurried up the steps. “Let me help you. Are we going out or in?”

“Out.” Nate ran an affectionate hand over the back of the chair. “Olivia said it had to go. Not sure if it’s the ugly green or that the material has finally worn through on one arm, but the replacement is set to arrive later today.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

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