Page 42 of Holding Grace

I just needed to figure out how to go about it without moving too fast.

As it worked out, I had a lot of time to think about it. Business was great at the pub and with several big events hosted in the event space in addition to the crowds in the main dining room we were all hands on deck in the kitchen most days. If it continued, we planned to hire an additional cook, maybe two, but for now it meant one long shift after another.

Great for the pub and my bank account, not so great for spending time with Grace.

She and I still texted almost every day but after nearly two weeks I was anxious for in-person time with her. Finally, I got a break – a chance to leave early when the Monday evening crowd eased up a couple of hours before closing.

I checked my watch as I walked out to my car. It was eight o’clock, not late. I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Grace. It was last minute, but I was going to take the chance that she’d let me spend some time with her.

She picked up on the first ring.

“Hi, Michael.” I could hear her smile in her voice. “Are you on your break?”

“I’m actually getting in my car. We got a little bit of a breather tonight and Jamey cut me loose. Any chance I could come hang out with you for an hour or two?”

There was a tiny pause, then... “Of course. I’m not doing anything special. I just made popcorn and I was going to turn the game on if you’re interested in that.”

“That sounds perfect.” I’d watch paint dry with Grace at this point – that’s how much I wanted to see her. “I’m going home to shower quick, then I’ll be over.”

“You can shower here if you want. If you have your gym bag in your car.”

Heat shot through me at her soft words.

Down, boy. She offered to let you use her shower, not shower with her.

“I do. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. It’s not like you haven’t showered here before.”

I tried to remember which clothes I had in my gym bag. Was it the ratty cut off sweats and t-shirt or the decent ones? Whichever it was, I knew they were clean. That was all that mattered. Grace wouldn’t care and it would give me more time with her.

“I’ll see you in a few then. I’m looking forward to it.”

With her sweet “me, too” in my ears, I started my car and headed toward the one place I wanted to be.

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THREE HOURS LATER, I pushed myself up off the floor at Grace’s. The game was over, the popcorn she’d made was long gone, and it was time for me to go.

I’d asked for an hour or two and she’d given me more. I needed to get going before I overstayed my welcome.

I turned and offered Grace a hand to pull her to her feet. When I’d arrived earlier, I was greeted by something new - two huge pillows sitting on the floor in front of the couch. When I’d looked at Grace she’d shrugged.

“This way we can both be comfortable,” she said simply.

So, we’d sat on the surprisingly cushiony pillows – Grace within easy reach of me – resting back against the couch, the bowl of popcorn between us, and my mind on anything but the game being played on the TV in front of me.

Namely, anything to do with Grace. Her light scent. The way she ate her popcorn one single kernel at a time. Her soft scoff of frustration when the team she was rooting for made a bad play or did something dumb. And the way her arms shot in the air and a beaming smile lit up her face when they scored a touchdown.

For fun, I’d chosen to root for the other team, and I’d groaned as they fell further and further behind in the score.

“Regretting your choices in life?” she’d smiled over at me, looking mischievous and relaxed.

“Some more than others,” I’d responded, fighting a grin of my own.

I had some regrets, yeah. Like choosing the losing team. And sitting so close but so far from Grace for the past three hours.

And not kissing her those times in the past when it seemed maybe I’d had the chance.

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