Grace sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer, while I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing a meal t only for my girl. I considered making my specialty—brown beans, bacon, and hot dogs—but decided she deserved better than that since it was her last night. at meal held a special place in my heart. It was the dinner I fell in love with Grace over, and it was the meal that earned her trust. She didn’t believe that combo of ingredients could taste good, but it did. I proved her wrong once, and I’d do it again. I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was watching me. Her gaze started at my feet and went all the way up to my head. I smiled and refocused my attention on sautéing the fresh green beans from my garden and checking on the boiling pot of noodles. It felt like she was looking at me for the last time, but I hoped it was the last of many, and I know that didn’t make any sense. I was used to things not making much sense.
“Are you doing all right?” she asked, breaking the silence. I grabbed my open beer from the countertop and swigged.
e question caught me by surprise. I wasn’t sure she cared about me anymore but it appeared she did. Why else would she ask about my well- being? Why would she be concerned with my grief? I leaned against the counter, crossing one foot over the other.
“I will be eventually,” I said, wiping at my eyes.
Time healed all wounds and those it didn’t scabbed over nicely enough.
Grace raised her chin and then lowered it, about to say something but then
deciding not to. I sni ed and rubbed at my eyes, wondering what she was going to say. Her words were so careful now, like she was playing a game of chess.
“You looking forward to heading home?”
I knew she was but I hoped she would lie to me. Sometimes lying was the best thing you could do for another person. A lie provided comfort honesty never could. at’s why I lied to her. My muscles tensed, waiting for her answer.
She shrugged. “Don’t think I’ll be able to since my car’s not working.”
“It’s working now.”
I thought I saw the smallest smile on her face, but I hoped my eyes were playing tricks on me.
“I’m sorry about Albert,” she said.
“Me too.” For more reasons than she would ever know.
Turning back to the stove, I stirred the beans a couple more times. e key to cooking green beans is butter, lots and lots of butter. e meatballs sizzled in the lard, and the noodles were nearly done. I was going to make something fancier like steak or shrimp for Miss Grace, but I didn’t want to have to run into town and leave her alone. Plus, I was scared she’d nd a way to leave while I was gone, and I couldn’t have that.
I turned and smiled at her again. “Almost done.”
Her lips made a tight smile, and she quickly brought the beer to her mouth and tipped it back. What was going on behind those blue, blue eyes? Was Grace thinking about leaving me?
