Stages of Grace

Bargaining



a transaction, situation, or event regarded in the light of its results

-Merriam Webster





We head west towards St. Petersburg, crossing the Howard Frankland Bridge. Ryan takes me to the dock at his business. It’s called Erickson Gulf Water Sports. We stop by the front office first so he can introduce me to the kids who get folks checked in and manage any release forms and payments. They all seem so young, maybe just out of high school. I’m surprised when a couple of employees seem to recognize my name. Did he talk about me to them? I stand there, politely making small talk, while he carries the kayaks down to the dock. I wave goodbye to everyone when he calls me over.

I hold my breath as he buckles me into a lifejacket. I probably could have done that myself but make no move to stop him. As he is adjusting the strap tighter on one side, our eyes connect and I giggle, making him smile. When he’s finished, he tugs on my vest, making me fall into him. When I gasp, he claims he’s just checking to make sure it's tight enough. He turns his head too quickly for me to tell if he is smiling or not. He holds my kayak flush to the dock as I step into it. I feel so awkward trying to keep my balance, terrified I will tip over. Thankfully, I don’t, and when he passes me the paddle. I'm able to paddle out a couple of feet to give him room to get into his kayak. I can’t help but watch as he does it so easily, much more gracefully than I had. Then, we are off. Ryan is an adorable tour guide, pointing out things along the way.

I have never kayaked before but get the hang of it quickly. One thing I did not expect is how much water drips onto me with each pull of my paddle. Ryan doesn’t get as wet. I try holding the paddle farther from my body, but that doesn’t seem to work. I give up and am just happy that I'm wearing a swimsuit. I wonder if Ryan thinks I'm doing a good job. I think I’m keeping up with him just fine, or is he taking it easy on me?

Ryan suddenly gets very animated and points over to our right. I squint, not seeing anything. I shrug and shake my head but Ryan’s insistent finger continues to point at the water. I look again, just in time to see a large, white something break the surface.

"What is that?" I shriek.

"Don’t be frightened, love. It’s just a manatee," Ryan says, laughing at my reaction.

All I can think of as I watch the manatee slowly sink back under the water is that Ryan just called me love, and how sexy it sounded. Everything he says sounds sexy. My attraction towards Ryan is making me feel flustered, not that it matters. He lives in Florida, and I live in Ohio. With Jon. I wonder what I will feel when I see Jon again when he comes to pick me up from the airport. It’s wild to think my trip is already half over. I have learned so much but still have so many questions for my grandmother. What I cannot understand most of all is why my mother had never forgiven her.

Ryan is giving me a weird look. Oh Lord. Has he been talking to me this whole time? I must have seemed like a complete space cadet.

“Sorry. I wasn’t listening. Can you repeat that?” I ask.

He shrugs it off and doesn’t say anything. I sigh, worried I have hurt his feelings. Not knowing what else to do and wanting to lighten the mood, I angle my paddle in his direction and splash him. His mouth drops open, forming an O as in, “Oh no, you didn’t.” I squeal as he quickly maneuvers over to me.

"Don’t flip me! Please don’t flip me!" I plead.

Ryan has his kayak right on the side of mine, facing the opposite direction with one hand gripping the side. I put my hand on top of his trying to pry off his fingers. Ryan keeps looking down at his hand and then to my face before holding both hands up in surrender. Then, back paddling away from me, he leans towards me and in a hushed tone, with a twinkle in his eyes, promises there will be payback. I roll my eyes, trying to act like I’m not scared as he just shakes his head at me.

We paddle a bit further. By this time, my shoulders are feeling a bit sore. Ryan notices me rolling them and asks if I want to head back. I ask if we can just drift a bit before going back, and Ryan likes that idea. Being on the water is incredibly peaceful. Ryan explains that because of the manatees only boats without motors are allowed. The manatees tend to stay close to the surface and in the past some had been injured. Since they are a protected species, this is one way of keeping them safe. I cannot imagine trying to kayak in the same place boats or jet skis are going. I’m still nervous about tipping and am grateful the water is so much calmer here.

I set my paddle down in front of me, and Ryan points out a zip tie on the side I can wrap around it to make sure it won’t fall in the water. It won’t be a huge deal if I do drop the paddle, though, because it has a float attached. With the paddle secure, I take off Ryan's hat and lean back in my seat, closing my eyes and enjoying the sun on my face. I can feel the water gently lapping on the sides of my kayak as it rocks me, like a cradle. If I’m not careful I could easily fall asleep. This is the coolest thing I have done in a long time. I fill my lungs with fresh air and stretch my arms out in front and then behind me. I’ll be lucky if I can lift anything tomorrow.

After some time, I raise my head back up and open my eyes, blinking at the brightness before putting Ryan's hat back on and looking around for him. He’s somewhat behind me now, just watching me. I blush, wondering if I dozed off there for a second.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starved," I confess.

"Burgers sound good?"

"They sound great!"

I follow him back towards the dock. My arms ache, but I feel invigorated, and I can’t stop smiling. Back at the dock Ryan gets out first, tugging his kayak out of the water before coming to help steady mine so I can get out. The dock is wet so when I step on it my foot slides out from under me, and I land on my other knee, hard. I crawl the rest of the way onto the dock. Ryan quickly tugs my kayak onto the dock before rushing to check on me. My knee has a nasty scrape and is bleeding, my hand holding it tightly. Tears are forming in my eyes, but I do my best to blink them away.

Ryan crouches down next to me, and I move my hand a little so he can see the wound before covering it again. Without a word, Ryan scoops me up in one easy movement and carries me to the office. I feel a little silly, thinking I probably could have walked, but when I try to tell Ryan, I can’t seem to spit it out. When we get to the office, Ryan sets me on the counter, waving off his employees while he retrieves a first aid kit. While my scrape is mainly superficial, there seems to be a lot of blood. Ryan gently coaxes me into taking my hand off my knee.

I study him as he gently washes my knee then applies ointment. It takes two large bandages to cover it, and as Ryan smoothes the second one on me, his fingertips on my skin make me erupt in goose bumps. I shiver, suddenly cold. With his hands on my waist, Ryan helps me off the counter. I walk gingerly to the bathroom to wash the blood off my hands and use a paper towel to wipe my shin. Ryan is putting away the first aid supplies when I walk back out. I can’t help but notice the trail of blood drips across his floor. I’m mortified. "Ryan, I am so sorry. Here, let me clean up." I reach for a roll of paper towels.

"Don’t be silly. Sit." He wheels a chair over to me. "This will just take a moment." Once he finishes, he comes back to check on me. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I nod, feeling like such an idiot having just watched him clean the floor.

"Still up for a burger?" Ryan asks.

I pout, nodding again.

"Has your injury caused you to become mute?"

I tap my index finger on my lips, trying to look like I’m thinking about it but am unable to keep a straight face. Ryan reaches out his hand to help me up. I shake my head. I will probably have a bruise, but I'm not an invalid. He checks a few things in the office before we leave. Once in his Jeep, we pass at least six burger places before Ryan stops at a kind of rundown looking place. I shoot him a concerned look.

"Don’t judge. Best burger ever. Besides I drove so you're stuck either way," Ryan says, walking around to open my door.

"Oh, I see how it is."

"They have milkshakes."

"Sign me up."

"Atta girl."

The place is seat yourself. Ryan leads us over to a booth. When I ask for a menu, Ryan laughs and points to the wall behind me. Turning, I see the back wall is one giant chalkboard-style menu.

"How cool," I say, getting up to take a closer look.

Ryan, clearly already certain of what he's ordering, stays put. The burgers are ordered by size with a million different topping options. My eyes light up when I see artichoke as one of them. I've never had them on a burger before, and it sounds so good. I walk back to our booth, ready to order. Not long after, a waitress comes over. Ryan orders a half-pound, medium cooked burger with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and banana peppers, plus a chocolate milkshake. I order a quarter-pound, medium cooked burger with the same toppings as Ryan, just artichokes instead of banana peppers and a mint chocolate chip milkshake. Ryan crinkles his nose at my topping selection and orders a basket of onion rings for us to split.

Our milkshakes come out first, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. I have to pace myself or I'll be done with my milkshake before the food comes out. While we wait, Ryan asks me about twenty times how my knee is. The last time he gets the hint when I kick him in the shin under the table doing my best to look innocent while sipping on my shake. Ryan changes the subject and starts asking me about Ohio. I consider not telling him about Jon but feel as though the omission could be considered a lie. I try not to notice how Ryan seems to stiffen when I say I live with my boyfriend. Not wanting to talk about him further, I tell Ryan about my job and the Cuyahoga River, wondering out loud if people kayak on it.

"So you'd like to go out on a yak again?"

"A yak?"

"Term of affection."

"Oh, I see. Yes, I would, even though I'm not sure I'll be able to lift my arms tomorrow, and I will have to work on my dismount."

"How does your knee feel?"

"It's fine. I feel a bit silly you had to carry me and even with my fall I had a great time. The water was beautiful. Really, thank you so much for taking me."

Conversation ceases for a bit once our food arrives. Hands down the best burger I have ever had. It's so thick I follow Ryan's lead and squish it before trying to take a bite. The onion rings are amazing as well. The perfect level of crispiness. I’m happy this place isn’t a chain or I’d fear for my arteries. I ask Ryan what made him settle down in Florida. It seems somewhat tame after all the places he talked about. It turns out the owner of the house he rents is an old friend he'd done some of his traveling with. They had come up with the idea of the business together, and since his friend is wealthy, he said he would put up the investment if Ryan ran the place. His friend is American and wanted to keep the business stateside.

"So where's your friend?"

"Jack pops in from time to time, but he never stays long. Bit of a gypsy. I think he's in Indonesia right now."

"Do you wish you were with him?"

"I love to travel, and there are still many places I want to see. I usually try and take one trip a year, but I like sleeping in my own bed."

"Someday I'd like to travel, maybe go outside of the US."

"What's stopping you?"

"Work, money, fear of the unknown."

"And your Jon? Does he like to travel?"

I shrug, uncomfortable that I don’t even know the answer to that. While Ryan may think it's a strange, non-answer, he doesn’t push. After finishing our food and paying the check, we stand to leave. When Ryan notices me grimace he talks me into letting him double check my bandages once we are at the car. I patiently sit in the passenger seat, my legs facing out as Ryan inspects my knee. I try explaining to him that I'm fine and that it's just stiff and all I need to do is put ice on it once we get back to Kate's, but Ryan isn’t convinced. I don’t press it; I'm enjoying his hands on my legs too much, wondering if maybe he's making a big deal just so he can touch me. I shake off the idea of him being interested in me; he's just a nice guy. Since my bleeding had stopped ages ago, Ryan finally admits an ice pack is a good idea and looks guilty when he warns me I'll probably have a nasty bruise.

"Ryan, seriously. Relax. I bruise easy. It's not a big deal. I'm a total klutz."

"So Grace is not very graceful?"

"No," I laugh. "I most certainly am not."

Ryan thinks this is funny and teases me about it most of the way home, asking me for examples of my klutziest moments. I have plenty to share. My story about crashing a Segway on a rogue speed bump almost makes him cry, he is laughing so hard. I can't help but laugh, his laughter is contagious. I stress how much it hurt at the time but that only makes him crack up more, until I find myself shaking with laughter along with him. After I catch my breath I tell him how I had been with my parents and can still remember how angry my father had gotten at the rental guy. At the time, I didn’t have health insurance and had been happy and felt lucky I had not broken anything. I had jumped up after my crash, checking myself for broken bones and said I'm fine, I'm good over and over. Looking back, I'm not sure if I was trying to convince my father or myself.

When we get back to my grandmother's house, I take a quick shower and change into some khaki shorts and a tank. Then Ryan gets me all set on a lounge chair with an ice pack. I'm unsuccessful trying to take care of myself, and once Ryan tells Kate about my knee, she gangs up on me as well. As much as I fight the attention, I secretly enjoy it, knowing Jon would not have spared my knee a second glance. Once they're satisfied I am comfortable, Kate gets us all caught up on gossip from her knitting group, excited to announce the grandson of one of the members is getting married.

She turns to me. "When will we hear wedding bells for you, Grace?"

I flush, shaking my head. Ryan cocks his head to the side, looking at me.

Kate continues. "Well, why not?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it." I fiddle with the hem of my tank top, not able to look at either of them.

"Aw, leave her be, Kate." Ryan seems to sense my discomfort.

I can tell Kate wants to say something else and am grateful Ryan interceded on my behalf. Kate grumbles and gets up to check the roast she is making for dinner. Once she is out of sight, I mouth “thank you” to Ryan. He dips his head in acknowledgement, but I can see a question remains in his eyes. I don't want either of them to know how unhappy I am. I don’t want to give Kate a reason to worry now that she's found me and the idea of admitting to Ryan that I'm in a loveless relationship is embarrassing. I clear my throat and look away when I see his eyes are still on me.

Given my invalid status, Ryan helps Kate set the table and bring out the food. At first, they think I should eat where I am sitting so I can keep my leg elevated and the ice on it. I put my foot down, literally, and argue that I can ice my knee again later and had been just fine sitting in a booth at lunch. I win the right to sit like a normal person at the table. Ryan opens a bottle of red wine. It surprises me when he pours himself a glass, having only seen him drink beer with dinner. Ryan confesses he does not like white wine.

Kate again has outdone herself with the meal. Over my first and second serving, I ask her how she ended up in Florida. She explains that when my mother became pregnant with me my parents moved from Pennsylvania to Ohio. Kate lived with her parents, now taking care of them in their old age. Her father had been a successful businessman and as long as she stayed in their home she had no need to work. My great grandfather died when I was around two years old; my great grandmother three years later. As the sole beneficiary of their estate and still estranged from my mother, Kate had wanted nothing more than to get out of Pennsylvania.

Tired of the cold weather and wanting to live near water, she decided on Florida. She had friends who wintered there. She had no interest in being a snow bird and having two homes to maintain, so she took the plunge and moved down full time. She questioned her sanity at first in making such a move. She paused before asking me if I had ever heard of a palmetto bug. I shake my head, looking over at Ryan as he starts laughing. Kate explains they are large, flying cockroach-looking bugs that seemed to be everywhere. I don’t want to believe her at first, but Ryan, while laughing, assures me they are very real.

Kate made a go of it, though, and built a life for herself in Florida. She didn't have to work but took a job as a secretary at a church. Now, she has a good group of friends, counting Ryan among them. She is also friends with Jack, since they've been neighbors for ten years. Before Ryan lived there Kate was often in charge of collecting Jack's mail for him while he globe trotted. When Ryan moved into his house, Jack made it part of the rental agreement that he maintain the landscaping of Kate's property as well. Ryan liked yard work, and it gave him an opportunity to befriend Kate. She always had a glass of lemonade ready for him, and he could use her pool.

Once Kate got to know him better, the lemonade got ditched for Belgian beer, and he started joining her for dinner. Kate liked the company and having someone to cook for, and Ryan had never eaten as well in his life. When I ask about his mother's cooking, he admits it's vile shit, apologizing to Kate quickly for cursing and assuring us he eats it anyway out of respect for his mum. Kate just looks pleased he enjoys her cooking so much. Looking at them, I envy their easy relationship and how comfortable Ryan is with my grandmother. It's amazing to me how attached I feel to them, considering I've only known them for such a short time.

I am already feeling sad that my trip is almost half over. When I leave, Ryan will continue his evening dinners and friendship with my grandmother and where will I be? In Ohio, carefully walking up slippery steps to avoid breaking my neck, sleeping in the same bed with someone I used to love. I ponder if the spark of attraction I feel for Ryan might in some way have turned my senses back on to that feeling. That maybe when I get home to Jon, things will be like they had in the beginning when we could barely keep our hands off each other. Everywhere we went, Jon found a patch of exposed skin to caress, the back of my neck, the top of my knee, the inside of my wrist. I had been just as bad, especially with kisses, never being able to stop with just one.

There is something about being at my grandmother's house that makes me want to stomp my feet and throw a childlike tantrum and yell at the top of my lungs, “I don’t want to go home! I want my grandmother.” I keep those urges within, but after a piece of chocolate cake, I sit next to Kate as she knits on her little wicker loveseat and lean into her. Since Ryan also drank wine with us that evening, the bottle had not lasted long. He opens another bottle and fills both of our glasses. I have never been much of a drinker and have drank almost nothing in the past year. This being my third glass of the evening, I'm feeling the effects.

My eyes feel heavy, and I giggle frequently. Ryan studies me as I try to regain composure then asks me out of the blue why marriage isn’t for me. I blurt out, “I don’t love him.” Realizing what I said I clap my hand over my mouth, eyes wide. I giggle as if it's the funniest thing I have ever said, not noticing when my laughs turn into tears. Kate stashes her knitting and pulls me into a hug. Ryan goes inside to fetch some tissues. I shyly take the box from him, wishing to dissolve into the cushion instead of answering the question in his eyes.

Kate, never one to hold back, delicately, asks. "Why are you still with him?"

"I forgot how to be without him."

"Grace, that's no reason to stay with someone."

I'm now hiccupping as I speak. "I couldn't leave him when he didn’t have a job."

"So you were supporting him?"

I nod, dabbing my nose.

"Is he working now?"

"Mm hmm."

"Are you happy?"

My face crumples, and I am too embarrassed to respond so I get up to go to my room. Before I can make it into the house, Ryan is there, pulling me into a hug. I bury my face into his chest as he wraps his arms around me, his mouth by my ear gently murmuring, “Shhh, shhh.” After a moment, self awareness hits me. I feel foolish and stiffen in his arms. Sensing my discomfort, Ryan opens his arms and places his hands on my arms, rubbing up and down as if trying to warm me.

I pull both my top and lower lip into my mouth and bite them, closing my eyes, head tilted to the ceiling. I release my lips. "I'm just going to head to bed."

"Are you sure, dear?" Kate looks at me and then Ryan, then back at me.

Ryan pulls his hands back, putting them in his back pockets, taking a step back to unblock the doorway to the kitchen. I nod and flee. Once in my room, I pull on my pajamas and lie across my bed to finish crying without an audience. Maybe twenty minutes later, there is a soft knock at my door.

I wipe my eyes before saying, "Come in."

Ryan peeks his head in the doorway. "I brought ice."

I scoot back against my pillows, straightening out my leg as Ryan sits on the edge of my bed.

"We might want to take the bandages off and let it breathe."

I nod, reaching to do it myself, but Ryan brushes my hands away so I smirk at him and fold them on my lap. He slowly rolls the leg of my scrubs up to uncover my knee. He's careful as he eases the bandages off. It doesn’t hurt at all until the final bit of adhesive pulls some skin from the sensitive area under my knee, making me flinch. Ryan's hands freeze, his eyes flicking up to the pained expression on my face. It only hurts for a moment, and since the bandage is now off, Ryan looks back down to inspect my knee. He puts his hands under my leg to lift it a bit. His hands are still cold from the ice, and I shiver. He pulls the throw blanket off the corner chair to wrap around me.

"Better?"

I know his question isn’t just about being cold. I nod.

He smiles and wraps the ice around my knee. "You should probably keep that on your knee for at least fifteen minutes. Want me to keep you company?"

"Oh, you don’t have to."

"It's alright. I don’t mind."

"Okay." I twist my fingers absentmindedly under the blanket, feeling very nervous with Ryan still sitting on my bed. I'm not a pretty crier and can only imagine how splotchy my face must look.

We sit there for a few moments, both of us on my bed. I’m not sure what to say, and he isn’t saying anything. The silence that hangs between us begins to feel almost solid. I start to ask him something. He speaks up at the same time, so we both stop, laughing, telling the other person to go ahead. Ryan insists I go first.

"Do you have brothers or sisters back in New Zealand?"

"I have two older sisters. One is still in New Zealand. The other now lives in Australia."

"Do you miss them?"

"They were a bit older than me so they acted more like second mothers than sisters. I was a bit spoiled." He smiles as though he remembers something and goes on. "They both have husbands and kids of their own now. Jean, my oldest sister, came out here with her family last year for a visit. Orlando isn’t far, and they went to meet Mickey Mouse."

"Nieces and nephews?"

"Yep. Jean has two boys. Um, one is sixteen and the other maybe twelve. Nancy has a girl and a boy. Stacy is fourteen and Adam nine. I think that's about right, give or take a year."

"Are you close to them?"

"Jean's oldest had his heart set on moving out here to work with me over the summer. I wasn’t up to it."

"Why not?"

"Ugh. That kid thinks he's a lady's man of some sort right now. No, thank you. I'm waiting for his hormones to settle down before I even think about it."

"No way! He can't be that bad."

"My sister is convinced he's going to knock up half his class."

I cover my mouth I'm laughing so hard.

"You have a lovely laugh, Grace."

That stops me. I blush, looking down.

"And now you've stopped. I should have kept my mouth shut."

I feel like covering my face with a pillow. "Stop looking at me."

"Afraid I can't do that."

My eyes flick up to his. There he is, sitting on my bed, flirting with me. I have no idea what to do or say. His gaze is too much for me. I look down and nervously worry at one of my fingernails. What's wrong with me? Why can’t I function around him? It’s like being in high school all over again. God, I'm twenty-five years old. I assumed I'd figured out talking to the opposite sex by this point. Ryan looks at his watch and reaches to unwrap my knee. He shakes the ice-pack as he stands and pauses as if about to speak. Instead, he gives me a broad smile and wishes me sweet dreams on the way out.

I flex my knee, trying to see if a bruise is already forming or not, but it looked too blotchy from the ice. Getting settled to go to sleep, I think about Jon. Other than letting him know I had arrived safely, we have not had any contact. What is it going to be like when I get home? I only have three more days until I find out. Even though it had just been Jon in my thoughts, I fall asleep picturing Ryan's green eyes.

~*~

The next morning, my knee feels very sore and is a strange shade of purple. I slowly make my way to the kitchen to retrieve the ice pack. It’s still early, and Kate is still asleep. I hope to ice my leg, shower, and be dressed for the day before she gets up. I don’t even know if the ice is doing anything for my knee at this point but figure that it can’t hurt. Afterward, while in the shower, I swear I can smell fresh coffee. Kate's up.

I wear a pair of yoga pants, happy the length covers my angry-looking bruise. Kate is pulling eggs out of the fridge when I walk into the kitchen. I impulsively walk over and give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

Kate’s face breaks out into a wide grin. "Aren't you sweet? I was thinking eggs this morning. How do you like yours?"

I'm happy with any kind so she makes scrambled eggs and tops them with shredded cheese. While she manages the eggs, I slice up a cantaloupe for us to share after pouring myself a cup of coffee. As we eat by the pool, Kate asks me if I would like to do any sightseeing. I am happy to go or stay at the house. she seems to want to take me to see the mermaid show at Weeki Wachee, which isn’t far. I try to casually ask if Ryan will be coming. Kate doesn’t say anything, but her eyes dance as she tells me that he has to work that day. I'm confused, wondering how we will get there.

"You can drive my car."

"You have a car?"

Kate had stopped driving a couple of years ago when she could not pass the eye exam to keep her license. She kept the car and just let Ryan drive it from time to time to make sure everything still worked. She knew it would make more sense to sell it but just couldn't part with it. She kept it stored at Ryan's house because he had a garage. She sends me over to his house with her spare key to collect it. I feel strange walking into Ryan's house alone, almost like I'm snooping. I have a valid reason for being there. Kate sent me to retrieve the car. It's just that once I'm there, I cannot help the compulsion to look around.

The front door opens into a sitting room similar to Kate's. The house in general seems the same only a mirror image, so the rooms are on different sides. Instead of a lanai, Ryan's rental has a garage. His style seems very minimalist, a beige sofa and TV in the front room, a bar-height dark wood table and chairs in the kitchen. I don't dare look in his bedroom. That would be crossing the line. I do look at the artwork he has on the walls, mainly black and white tropical photos. I wonder if they are pictures from his travels. The entrance to the garage is off the kitchen. As I pass the table, I notice a hoodie slung over the back of one of the chairs. I lift it to my nose. It smells like him. He wears a cologne I don't recognize but like. This smells like that mixed with a salty smell: the gulf or sweat, I wonder.

Once I’m in the garage, I stop to check out Kate's car. It's a silver Cadillac with a convertible top. I'm slightly intimidated driving it. Hopefully, this place isn’t too far, and Kate still knows how to get there. I hit the button to open the garage door, and as slowly as possible, back Kate's Caddy out onto the street, swinging it around to pick her up. There's a garage door opener attached to the visor that I click to shut the door behind me. Weeki Wachee is an hour north from her house. As we drive, I ask her more about my mother. The one thing that still bothers me about Kate's version is I just can't picture my mom hanging on to anger that long to never let Kate back into her life.

Kate doesn’t mince words. She accepts all the blame and feels like a part of her started pushing my mom away after Ronny died. After all of that time, once she understood my mother found someone to love her, my mother left and didn’t look back. Kate doesn’t blame her. She only wishes she could have understood better at the time the consequences of her actions. It still doesn't sit well with me, it just feels out of character for my mom to act that way. I have this image of her and have to accept the fact that maybe she is human and can hold a grudge. Kate seems bent on me not remembering my mother in anything less than a positive light.

"Grace, I'm not the same person I was those days. Living in that house, surrounded by all of those memories, was not healthy for me. I don't fault your mother for not forgiving me. I wasn't an easy person to be around. I was cold and angry and felt like I couldn't deal with the world around me."

I have a hard time connecting the image Kate portrays of herself with the person sitting next to me. I let it drop, not wanting to upset her. I have a good time seeing the mermaid show. The park is full of little girls and their parents or grandparents. I smile being able to lump myself into that category even though I'm much older.

~*~

Once we are back at Kate's house, she takes a nap while I return the car to Ryan's garage. Ryan is pulling into his driveway as I'm letting myself out of his house.

"We took Kate's car out," I explain, feeling my face get hot.

"Sorry, my place is a mess."

"What? It seemed clean, but I only saw the front room and the kitchen."

"No peeking at my boxers?"

"No, not that I would admit it if I had" I joke.

He rubs his chin and smiles "I will now assume you did."

"Don’t!"

"But it's more fun that way. So what do you ladies have planned for lunch?"

"Kate's resting right now. I was just going to make myself a sandwich. Want one?"

Ryan follows me back to Kate's house and keeps me company in the kitchen while I make our lunch. He rambles on about his day. I like the sound of his chatter. We take our plates out by the pool. I'm really going to miss the weather. I'll not be outside like this until well into spring back home. Ryan pours us some lemonade and asks me how I like Kate's car. I tell him it’s longer than any car I've ever driven so other than being nervous when I was parking I think it is a great car. Ryan loves that car, telling me how he would put the top down and drive Kate around town. It makes me wonder why Ryan seems content to spend his time with Kate instead of people closer to his own age.

I have been so distracted I miss what he asks me. "Sorry?"

"Want to go out with me tonight?"

"I don’t know. What about Kate?"

"No worries. I cleared this with the boss lady last night."

"I guess."

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to."

"No. I didn’t mean—what I meant to say was you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to, Grace. I'm asking you because I'd like to."

"Well, in that case..."

It is settled. Ryan will pick me up at seven. He helps me clear the plates before he goes back to work. Kate comes out not long after, having finished her nap. I'm onto her.

"Did you fake a nap so Ryan and I would be alone?"

"Oh, Ryan stopped by? How is he?"

"You can't fool me." I smile. "He's great and taking me out tonight."

"Oh, I'm so happy you said yes."

"Mm hmm. Has your matchmaking made you work up an appetite? Can I make you a sandwich?"

"Oh, that'd be lovely, dear."

~*~

That night, I wear a cream-colored sundress with little eyelets at the hem. The dress comes down to my knees. My bruise is an odd shade of blue now. I take a green cardigan with me in case it cools off. I wear brown ballet-style flats and a small, green crossbody bag for my wallet. I borrow Kate's curling iron, adding some gentle waves that hit just past my shoulders. As I put on some mascara, I wonder if all the sun has lightened my hair, or maybe I’m just not used to seeing it styled. Not one for much makeup, I actually put on a little blush. Pointless, I think, since I always seem to feel red-faced around Ryan.

"Do you think Ryan thinks this is a date, Kate?"

"I don’t know, dear."

"Yes, you do."

She nods her head "Well, maybe."

"But I have a boyfriend."

"Then you really shouldn't be going on a date, dear."

"Kate!"

"I know Ryan will be here soon, but there was something I—"

"Knock, knock," Ryan calls out from the front room.

"Be right there," I call out. Then turning to Kate. "What were you saying?"

"It's not important. Come on, dear."

I follow Kate to the front room, stopping when I see Ryan. He’s wearing khaki trousers and brown dock shoes with an untucked light blue dress shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair looks damp like he is fresh out of a shower.

Ryan gives Kate and me each a kiss on the cheek in greeting, murmuring, "You look lovely," to me as his mouth brushes my cheek.

"You too. I mean, you look great," I mumble.

"You kids have fun." Kate pushes us towards the door.

Ryan has just started the car when I turn to him. "This isn't a date."

He looks at me before moving his glance to the rear view mirror and backing out of the driveway. "Pity."

I cannot think of a response to that, so I just fold my hands in my lap and look out the window. We drive in silence until Ryan nears someplace called Ybor City. He takes me to a Cuban restaurant on 7th Avenue. It is dim inside, and there are a lot of people waiting for a table, but Ryan has a reservation so we are seated right away. While we look at the menu, I confess I have never had Cuban food before.

"Can't go wrong with arroz con pollo," Ryan suggests.

I think the Spanish-sounding dish sounds funny with Ryan's accent and ask him to say it again a couple of times before asking what it is. It sounds much more exotic than chicken and rice but something I'd like so when our server comes I order it. After dinner, we pop into a bar with a live band. I surprise Ryan by asking if he'd like to dance. The band plays cover songs of stuff I hear on the radio but with a beachy-sounding twist. Ryan is fun to dance with. He does not get too close but still takes my hands or rests his hands on my hips. I put my arms around his neck but the music stops for the band to take five.

Ryan leans his forehead on mine and breathes. "Why can't this be a date?"

I take a step back. What’s the point? Even if this could be a date, I’m leaving in two days. There’s no point getting all worked up over something that isn’t going to happen. In the long run, I'll have to forget about Ryan. It’s best to keep my distance. he gauges my reaction, and his face falls.

"Can I buy you a beer?"

He nods and follows me to the bar. The silence between us becomes uncomfortable.

Groaning, I try to lighten the mood. "Believe me. You wouldn't want to be on a date with me. I'm awful, and noisy, and no fun. You really dodged a bullet."

He smiles at me and holds his glass up for cheers. "To dodging bullets."

"I'll drink to that," I smile, clinking my glass to his.

The rest of our evening is free of any awkward moments. We stroll along 7th Avenue, checking out the different shops, bars, and restaurants before turning back towards Ryan's car.

"Red punch buggy, no punch backs!"

"Ompf!" Ryan gapes at me "Did you just hit me?"

"Mm hmm."

"Why?"

"Have you ever played punch buggy?"

"’Fraid not."

"It's kinda hard in the dark." I cringe, thankful he can't see me as I feel my face redden.

"I'm listening." He chuckles.

"Oh hush. What I meant was it's harder to find punch buggies when it's dark out. That red one was a lucky call ‘cause it was right in front of us."

"So how do you play?"

"See a bug, call it, punch, say no punch backs. That's about it."

"I don’t want to play a game where I hit you."

"Well, you don’t have to punch hard."

"You did."

"You looked like you could take it."

"Oh, I see how it is."

I just giggle, which makes Ryan shake his head at me. He drops me off in front of Kate's house.

"You're not coming in?"

"It's late. I have to get up early tomorrow. I have another fishing group going out."

"Oh, right. Well, thank you. I had a really great time."

"So did I."

"Will you be back in time for dinner tomorrow?"

"Should be."

"Oh, um, great. Okay. Bye."

The house is dark, and Kate has already gone to sleep. I change and get ready for bed. It takes me some time to fall asleep. I cannot help but think about how Ryan had wanted it to be a date. I wanted it to be a date too. I'm regretting telling him no. I try to think about Jon, try to picture his face, anything to not dwell on Ryan.

~*~

The smell of coffee wakes me the next morning. I head toward the kitchen. Kate is pouring herself a cup when I walk in.

"Morning, dear. Did you have fun last night?"

"Morning, Kate. Yes. I had a great time."

I set her coffee on a tray with some muffins and sliced cheese and follow her outside. I am really going to miss this weather.

I focus on my coffee. I'm not very hungry.

"Grace, there was something I wanted to ask you."

I look up from my cup "Yes?"

"You see, I've just enjoyed your stay so much, and I just wanted to let you know that if you'd like to I'd like for you to stay with me."

"What?" She wants me?

"Move to Florida, dear. I can tell you aren’t happy in Ohio."

She has a point. I’m not.

"I can't." I argue even though part of me is rejoicing at the idea.

"Why not?" Her eyes soften.

"What about my job? Jon?"

"You wouldn’t need to pay rent so you could take your time finding something."

"And Jon?"

"Only you can answer that question, dear" she says quietly.

"I just don’t think I can."

"No matter what you decide, I just needed you to know that you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"That really means so much to me, and I will think about it. I just—I just don’t know what to say."

I begin worrying at a muffin, pulling it apart and making more mess than eating it. Has my grandmother really just asked me to move to Florida? It sounds like a dream, but she's probably just being polite. She can’t really mean it. But, if I stay, what will happen to Jon? There is no way he can afford the apartment without me. He could always get a studio. But what if he asks me to stay? Will he even ask me to stay? Kate reaches over and pats me on the hand.

"Is there anything you would like to do today, Grace?"

"I'm fine just hanging out around here."

"You had mentioned wanting to learn some of the meals I've cooked. Would you like to do that today?"

"That sounds great, but I have to warn you I'm a miserable cook."

"Oh hush, dear. I'm sure you're fine."

After eating, I clear the table and go to take a shower. I check my knee before getting in. It looks better than the night before. I dress in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved sweater. I will be leaving the next day, I'm really having a hard time dealing with that, and now Kate asked me to stay. Why does the idea of it feel like I would be running away? And then there is Ryan to think of. He seems interested in me, but is it only because he knows I'm going away? I gather my dirty clothes together and look for Kate to see if I can do a load of laundry.

Kate is in the front room looking at old photos. I sit by her. She absentmindedly points people out, people I have never seen before: my great grandparents. There are also more pictures of my mother and my uncle Ronald. These photos are happier than the formal professional photo hanging in the hallway.

"Was Anne buried or cremated?"

I cringe at the thought of a mother having to ask that question about her own daughter. "Um, they were both cremated."

"Did you scatter their ashes?"

"Yes, in the Cuyahoga River back home."

"Is it a pretty river?"

"It used to be polluted but it's better now. It’s very curvy. Mom loved it."

"Maybe someday I'll come visit you to see it."

"I'd really like that, Kate."

When we are done looking at the album, I ask Kate if I can use her washer and dryer. She tells me I'm silly to even ask and shows me where they are and how to work them. I hurry back to my room to grab my clothes, figuring it is safe to wash them all together as long as I set it on cold. Kate is making a chef salad in the kitchen when I find her. After lunch, she sits on her wicker loveseat and knits while I go for a dip. I lounge in an armchair float and chat with Kate while she is busy with her knitting. She's making another shawl. This one is a mint shade and is more ribbed than diamond patterned.

"Have you always knitted?"

Kate looks down at the project in her hands. "I learned from my mother when I was very young. It's very calming. I like to have my hands busy, and it feels nice to make the shawls for someone going through a rough patch. Your mother knew how to knit. Did she ever teach you?"

I shake my head.

"Oh."

After my swim, I change back into my jeans and sweater for my cooking lesson. We're making meatloaf. I remember hearing that some people use corn flakes in meatloaf, not Kate. She uses stuffing. The recipe is simple. Forming the loaf is a bit messy, but I’m certain once we glaze it this is something I can probably make on my own. We go back onto the lanai once the meatloaf is in the oven.

"Would you ever like to learn how to knit?"

"Maybe someday. Have you made anything other than shawls?"

"Here, come with me."

I follow Kate back into the house and to the second spare bedroom, this one smaller than the one I’m sleeping in. It’s painted a light sage green, leaning more grey than green. There's a pine-framed daybed and matching dresser. In one corner, a wooden rocking chair that has been painted white sits next to a brass side table. Instead of paintings, there are pieces of stained glass hanging on the walls: a hummingbird, an orchid, and a geometric pattern. There is one piece hanging in front of the window: a frog, casting green and yellow hued shadows on the floor and bed. Kate opens the closet and begins pulling hanger after hanger down of knitted goods. Sweaters, scarves, a dress, cardigans, and cowl neck scarves.

"Did you make all of these?" I lift one sweater up off the daybed to look at the pattern on it. There are four different colors mixed together to create a row of flowers at the waist and wrists.

"I've been knitting a long time, dear. Now, mainly making shawls for the church."

"These are gorgeous."

"Would you like any?"

"I couldn’t."

"No, please take whatever you'd like. I would like you to have something I made."

"Really?"

"Of course, dear." Kate lifts my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze.

I carefully look at each piece and settle on a blue sweater with white x marks at the waist and wrists, and after Kate's insistence, a purple and black cowl scarf as well.

"Thank you so much. I absolutely love them. I will think of you every time I wear either of them."

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Well, I wouldn’t be able to wear these here, would I?" I try to joke, but the thought of leaving is really upsetting me.

We hang everything back up and the go back to sit by the pool. Once Kate is settled with her knitting again, I excuse myself to check my laundry. I purposely take my time pulling each item out one by one and placing them into the dryer. As though delaying this will somehow slow the movement of my last full day here. Once the dryer is going, I go back outside and sit in comfortable silence with Kate. I’m not sitting right next to her but am close enough to her that every so often she leans forward and pats me on the knee. It’s nice, like a reminder that I am wanted.

I’m sure Kate wonders why I am so set on going home. I admitted I don't love Jon, so what's pulling me back? A sense of obligation? A fear of the unknown? I spend most of the afternoon second guessing myself. The buzz of the oven timer brings me back to reality. I tell Kate to sit and go to take the loaf out of the oven. I’m holding it with mitts when I hear Ryan call out a greeting from the front door.

"Good God, that smells like heaven. Kate, you are truly trying to ruin me for all other women."

I have just set the pan onto the stovetop when Ryan pulls me into a hug. "Hullo, Grace."

Hugging him back, I can’t help but giggle at his forwardness. "Hello, Ryan."

He loosens his grip a fraction, and I step out of it, trying not to think about how good he smells. I decide not to make the moment awkward by asking why he hugged me but instead just enjoy it. I prepare a plate for each of us while Ryan opens a bottle of wine. He helps me bring the food out, and we sit.

"I'd like to make a toast," Ryan says, lifting his glass. "To Grace, for—no pun intended—gracing us with her presence."

"Har har." I reply as we clink glasses.

"You'll come back and see us again, won't you?" Ryan asks, looking at Kate and then at me.

"I'd love to."

"I asked Grace to move in with me."

My mouth drops open. I’m surprised Kate mentioned it.

"That's great!" Ryan is beaming. "So will you do it?"

I start to reply, but Kate answers for me. "She said no, but I'm hoping she'll change her mind."

Ryan's face falls, and I suddenly feel like crying. Why does this feel like a mistake? A somber mood drifts over the rest of our meal. It’s awful to imagine Ryan and Kate having dinner without me tomorrow. It’s too much for me, and I excuse myself, half of my food uneaten. I flee to my room and sit on the edge of my bed, my mind reeling. The idea of going back to Ohio is becoming physically painful but to stay somehow seems to scare me even more. I'm not one to make rash decisions. Even agreeing to come to Florida in the first place had been out of my comfort zone. The idea of leaving my life in Ohio behind and moving to Florida is incomprehensible.

I raise my head at the sound of a knock on the door. I dry my eyes and stand before saying, “Come in.” It’s Ryan.

"What's going on Grace?"

"I'm being silly. Please don’t worry about me. I'm sorry for seeming like such a basket case."

"A basket case?"

I laugh, guessing they don’t have that term in New Zealand. "A crazy person."

"Oh, I don’t think you're crazy."

"Thank you, Maybe I just feel crazy."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Trust me. If I told you everything that's going through my mind right now, you would change your mind about the whole crazy part."

Ryan sits in the armchair, steepling his hands in front of him. "Try me."

I hesitate, and he cocks his head at me, so I take a deep breath and begin. "I'm scared of moving to Florida. I've lived in Ohio my whole life, and it's all I've ever known. Yes, I'm not happy there right now, but I have a boyfriend, and even though things are not good right now, moving here this way would feel like giving up. I don’t know if I'm ready to give up, and I have a good job. If I came down here, would I be able to find anything like that? I know Kate said I wouldn’t have to worry about money or anything but I just can't do that. I would feel like a mooch."

"Mooch?"

"Someone who takes without giving anything back."

"Sorry, thought you said pooch, like a dog. I misheard you. But, I don’t think Kate would ever think that."

"But I would" I sigh.

He shrugs. "Fair enough. Carry on."

"So this whole idea is just making me feel crazy because I have no idea what to do. The idea of leaving is awful, but I feel like I can't just make a decision this big in a day."

"All very valid points, Grace. I'm sticking to my previous assessment that you're not crazy."

"So what do I do?"

"If it were up to me, I'd say stay but I'm partial to that outcome."

I blush and look at my hands. I'm nowhere closer to knowing what to do.

"Kate's worried she's upset you. Let's go back out and let her know you're having a little conflicted moment but it's all been settled." Ryan stands and reaches his hand out to me.

Taking it, I follow him back outside.

"I'm sorry if I'm becoming a pest," Kate says as soon as we’re back outside.

"No, I'm sorry. It's all me." I lean down to give her a hug.

"And it's nothing another glass of wine won't cure," Ryan says as he tops off all of our glasses.

"Trying to get us drunk?" I joke.

"All part of my master plan." He makes a very poor attempt to waggle his eyebrows. "I will go fetch another bottle to allow you two to laugh at my expense in my absence."

When he walks into the kitchen, Kate and I look at each other and dissolve into laughter. He looks extremely offended when he comes back and we are still laughing, which only causes us to laugh harder.

"I'm disappointed by this turn of events," he deadpans, taking a large drink of his wine.

At some point during the second bottle of wine, Ryan talks me into putting on my swimsuit as this might be my last opportunity to swim in the pool before I leave. Not having a valid argument to that, I go put it on, and we get into the pool.

I’m now feeling pretty tipsy. Ryan and I drape our arms over the edge and chat with Kate. We start a third bottle of wine not too long after that, but pleading exhaustion, Kate goes to bed, leaving us alone. I feel far too close to Ryan so I swim over to the other side of the pool. If Ryan can tell why, he doesn’t say. He just turns so that his back is up against the pool wall as he faces me. The pool isn’t very big so the distance I've put between us doesn’t amount to much. He still feels too close, and with Kate gone and the wine, I feel shy and nervous.

I try not to look at him and turn my back to him, pretending to be very interested in the night sky. I tense when I hear water lapping the pool walls as he swims over to me.

He’s behind me. "Grace."

It’s almost a plea. I can’t turn to look at him. "Yes?"

"Grace, would you look at me?"

I don’t respond, and I don’t turn around. I have a feeling that if I do, he will kiss me. After a few moments, he leans against the pool wall just next to me.

"I just want you to know I think you're lovely."

I keep my head forward but peek at him from the side. His arms are on the pool deck, one hand on top of the other with his forehead resting on top.

"I think you are lovely too, Ryan."

His head pops up, and he rests his chin on his hand. He’s smiling. We stay like that for some time before I, like Kate, plead exhaustion. Ryan readies to leave, studying his shoes and telling me what time he’ll come pick me up to take me to the airport. I stand in my towel, on the lanai, and watch him leave. I’m kicking myself for not turning around in the pool, but it’s better this way. If he'd kissed me and it had been wonderful, it would be that much harder to go home. I lock the backdoor behind me and go to my room, pausing at the picture on the wall. I have become accustomed to seeing the faces from the photo before I go to bed.

I retrieve my cell phone from my room and snap a photo of the picture. It’s not the same, but it will do. I snuggle into the most comfortable bed I've ever slept on for one last night of sleep.

~*~

Over indulgence of wine can result in sleeping in. Days when you must get on an airplane are stressful enough without feeling as though you are already behind. I wake up an hour later than I had planned. I rush to the dryer to retrieve my clothes and dump them on my bed before taking a shower. Once I’m dressed, I pack my clean clothes and go off in search of Kate. She’s in the kitchen looking as though she is also suffering from the effects of too much wine. I’m relieved to see a fresh pot of coffee. Ryan had brought some croissants the day before and Kate has baking chocolate in the fridge, so I whip up a few chocolate croissants for us in the microwave. They’re hot so while they cool I go off in search of some Advil to assist with the dull thud in my head. Kate is quiet over breakfast. I feel like it’s my fault for not agreeing to stay. It's weird not knowing what to say to make her feel better.

I get up to clear the plates, and Kate stops me, putting her hand on my forearm. "Just know you still have family, Grace. I may be old, but we're all each other has left at this point. I want you to know that I love you and always will."

I sink down to my knees next to her and allow Kate to pull me into a hug. We’re both crying, I suddenly feel overwhelmed by the idea that I’m not alone in the world. I had clung to Jon after my parents’ deaths because of this. I’m not certain why Kate is crying, maybe it has something to do with my mother, maybe it is just because she will miss me. When we separate, Kate grabs a napkin to wipe my tears.

"Please know I've thought about staying. It’s just not a choice I can make this quickly, but know that even though I'm going back to Ohio today, I've not decided against coming back."

"It would make me so happy."

"I just need time to think" I say lowering my head.

She runs her hand gently over my hair. "I understand, dear."

I stand and continue gathering our plates to clear the table. When I finish, I walk through each room of the house I spent time in to make sure I've not forgotten something. My bags are packed and standing at attention in the front room for when Ryan arrives. As I wait for him, I sit with Kate while she knits. She's now making a baby blanket for the daughter of a friend. It’s cream-colored with a pink border. Watching her knit, I can suddenly picture my own identical baby blanket. I still have it in a box in my closet back home.

"You said my mother knew how to knit, right?"

"She did."

"I have a baby blanket like this back home." I gently touch a corner of the blanket.

"If your mother did not make it, there's a good chance that was a blanket I had made for her as a baby. I had one that I never knew what happened to it. If that's the same one, I'm happy to know she used it with you." Kate reaches out to pat me on the knee.

Ryan enters not long after. Kate flutters around me, wanting to make me a snack before I leave, but my stomach is unsettled from the night before and the thought of flying. I hope a bag of Chex Mix at the airport will help. When we hug goodbye, Kate clings to me. I can tell by the way Kate is breathing that she is near tears. I don’t want to cry in front of Ryan again, but will have no choice if I see Kate cry. I give her a kiss on the cheek and release my arms. Kate walks us to the door, pulling me down to give me a kiss. Ryan pulls both of my suitcases and loads them into his Jeep while I double check my purse for my ticket and ID. Kate stands in the doorway, waving while I climb into Ryan's Jeep.

"And we're off," Ryan says, backing out.

"Thank you for taking me to the airport."

"We're going to miss you."

I can’t tell him how much I am going to miss him as well without feeling silly so I nod and look out the window, feeling more depressed with each palm tree we pass. It doesn‘t take long to get to the airport. Ryan refuses my request to just drop me off and parks instead. I follow him to the airline counter, and he waits with me until my bag is checked. I’m waiting for him to leave, but he seems unable to. As we approach the security area, we both know he can’t go any farther. Before I walk into the roped-off area, he pulls me into a hug. I rest my forehead on his neck, breathing him in.

Ryan's arms are so strong around me. I don’t want him to let go, but he does. Just before his arms release me, he gently kisses the top of my head. I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze, then move into line. As I navigate the rope-lined path, I look back each time the line stops, and each time, Ryan is still there, watching me. When I reach the front of the line where I have to take off my shoes and put them and my carryon onto the conveyor belt, I look back one more time to wave and see he is gone.

Sad I'd not been able to see him one last time, I pass through security in a daze, only to be stopped because I have forgotten to take off my belt. The TSA agent takes it from me to have it through the scanner and makes me walk through the detector again. I apologize while putting my belt and shoes back on, then go to find my gate. I have a direct flight for the return, and Jon will pick me up from the airport. I take out my cell phone to text him a reminder of when my flight will be landing.

Time to get back to reality, I think to myself. Sure, Florida had been a nice break with kayaking and mermaids, but that is not my life. It’s Saturday. I'll have all day tomorrow to get settled and ready to go back to work on Monday. This is my life. I just need to accept that.

~*~

When I land in Cleveland, I can’t find Jon. I move out of the path of travelers and text him, asking if he is there. Jon replies that he will meet me at baggage claim. I’m not sure why that bothers me. Somehow, I had expected him to wait just past security. I tuck my phone into my purse and pull my coat out of my carryon suitcase. I’m still inside the airport but already freezing, wondering what the temperature is like outside. I see Jon right away as I enter the baggage claim area. He looks bored.

"Hi, Jon."

He makes no move to hug me. "How was Florida?"

"Good, thanks."

Silence.

Jon stands off to the side with my carryon while I wait for my suitcase to come around the carousel. Once I have it, I wheel it over to him, and he turns and begins making his way to the parking lot, pausing to put on a hat before walking outside. I cringe at the blast of cold air and grimace as I step into it and try to keep up with him. When we get to my car, Jon hands me the keys before going to sit in the passenger seat and leaving me to load my bags in the trunk. My fingers feel like icicles by the time I shut the trunk and climb into the car. I put the heat on high and blow on my hands as I rub them together.

Jon hands me the parking ticket and we leave, not having to pay since Jon had parked less than an hour. I wish he was driving but don’t say anything about it.

"How was your week?" I ask.

"Fine."

Silence.

I turn on the radio to fill the void. When we get back to our apartment, Jon helps me carry the larger case up the stairs. He stays in the front room while I go to our bedroom to call Kate.

"I just wanted to let you know I made it home safe."

"Oh, thank you, dear. Did you have a good flight?"

"It was fine. Thank you."

"I miss you already, dear."

"I miss you too, Kate."

"Well, I hope you'll come back and see me again soon."

"I'll try."

When we end our call, I unpack my bag, happy that I don’t have laundry to deal with. As I hang the sweater Kate knit, I decide I’ll wear it the next day. When I’m finished putting my things away, I go to the kitchen to make a snack. There isn’t much to eat. Jon is sitting in his chair watching me.

"I think I'll run to the store and pick some things up. Would you like to go with?"

"I'll stay here."

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"I'm good."

I’m better dressed for the cold on this outing, hat and gloves on. I stop to get gas while I’m out so I won’t have to do it the next day before going on to the store. I walk the aisles in a daze, randomly filling my cart. I pick up ground beef and stuffing to make for dinner Sunday. It seems like everything I'm getting I had eaten at Kate's: a cantaloupe, muffins, eggs, and wine. Will eating the same foods make me feel like I’m still with them? I pick up more food than I had intended and have to make three trips from the car up the stairs to bring it all up. Even Jon seems surprised by the amount of food as he gets up to help me unload.

"Wine?"

"Why not? Want to open it and have a glass with me?"

Jon's brows come together above the bridge of his nose before he pulls a bottle opener out of one of the kitchen drawers. Our wine glasses are a bit dusty, from lack of use. Jon rinses and dries them before he pours us a glass.

I lift my glass and motion for Jon to lift his as well. "To home."

He hesitates before touching his glass to mine and taking a drink.

I'd pick up an easy skillet meal for two out of the frozen section of the store. It’s an Italian chicken dish. It’s a bit early for dinner but not by much, so I go ahead and make it since I’m hungry. While it’s cooking, I steam a bag of frozen broccoli in the microwave. I smile when Jon puts plates out on the table. When dinner is ready, we sit together and eat. Jon gets up during our meal to refill our glasses. Maybe this can work.

The wine goes to my head, and I go to bed earlier than normal. Part of me is disappointed when Jon makes no move to follow me. As I drift to sleep, I mourn the loss of Kate's comfortable bed and I wonder if Kate and Ryan are still up, sitting by the pool. My last thought before sleep overtakes me is if they are missing me as well.

The next morning when I wake, it takes me a moment to figure out where I am. I turn my head to see Jon quietly sleeping beside me. After looking at the time on my phone, I decide there is no point trying to fall back asleep. I wander out to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee before warming up a muffin in the microwave and coating it with butter. I take my muffin and coffee over to the table and slowly nibble it and sip my coffee while they cool. Wanting some fruit I get up and am slicing a cantaloupe in half when Jon walks out. He nods in my direction, pours himself a cup of coffee and sits in his armchair.

"Is there anything you needed to do today?"

He pauses for a beat to consider my question, then shakes his head and turns on the TV. I take my cantaloupe and sit back down at the table, my back to him. I pinch my eyes shut as I try not to let my hopes fall. Is this what it’s going to be like between us? I'd hoped that my absence would in some way make Jon miss me. If Jon had missed me, he isn’t showing it. I can’t help but wonder what he's thinking. Is he even happy?

I slowly dig my spoon into the flesh of the fruit, my knuckles hitting the inside of the bowl I had made with its rind. My mind drifts to Ryan, to the feel of his arms around me as he said goodbye. I can still picture him as he stood in the airport to greet me that first day. I turn back to look at Jon as he watches TV. Now that he was working again, I'd hoped he would come out of whatever funk he seemed to be in.

Steeling myself, I get up and go sit closer to him on the sofa. "I think we should talk."

He mutes the TV. "About?"

I take a deep breath "Us."

"I'm listening."

"It feels like we don’t talk anymore."

He shrugs "We're talking right now."

"It didn’t use to be like this."

"Like what?"

I close my eyes."It just feels like you don’t even like me."

"I do."

"Do you?" I blush, opening my eyes. "You haven’t even touched me since I've been home."

Jon looks down at his hands.

"My grandmother asked me to move to Florida."

He hesitates "Are you?"

"I'm thinking about it."

His eyes search mine "What's stopping you?"

"You. Us."

He pauses "I think you should go" he says then looks away.

I struggle to take a breath. It feels like my lungs are burning. "You don’t want me to stay?"

He doesn’t respond, just turns back to the TV and unmutes it. My mouth drops as I process what has just happened. That’s it? That is what I have been waiting to hear all of this time? I stand, pulling the belt of my robe snug around my waist as I slowly walk back to our bedroom to lie down. I pull Jon's pillow to my chest and breathe in his scent. He thinks I should go. He had not even followed me knowing I was upset. He is lost to me. My Jon who had loved me is gone. I unplug my phone from the charger and call Kate.

"Kate?"

"Grace, are you alright?"

"I'll move to Florida."

"What happened? Are you alright?"

I’m crying and not able to reply right away. I can hear Ryan in the background and then some shuffling as I picture Kate handing him the phone.

"Grace?"

"I'm here."

"You sound like you're crying. Is everything okay?"

"I think Jon just broke up with me."

"F*cking idiot."

I hear him cover the speaker and say something to Kate.

"Kate says you'll move down."

"Mm hmm."

"Right away?"

"I have to call my boss and see if Jon can take over the lease. It renews next month. Maybe we'll both just move out."

"Kate wants to know if you're all right staying there in the mean time."

I rest my head on my hand "I guess. Part of me wishes I never came back."

"Everything's going to be okay. Kate and I are here to help you."

I look up and see Jon leaning on the doorframe.

"I need to go."

"Well, call back after you talk to your boss."

"Okay. Bye."

"So you're going to go?" Jon asks.

I nod, setting my phone on the bedside table.

"Was that your grandmother?"

"Yes."

We speak for a few minutes. Jon doesn’t think he can afford the place by himself and wants to see if I will still pay my share of the bills the last month even if I’m not there. Money. That’s what he had been concerned about. I have no desire to fight and agree. Before he leaves, he tells me he will start sleeping on the couch. That makes sense; no reason to still share a bed. After he goes back into the front room, I pull my knees up into my chest and rock back and forth slowly. My mind is telling me I should be crying but no tears come. It's more of a “what just happened?” feeling. I'm scared I don't know how to be around him for the next two weeks. I want to say I feel relieved but I don’t. If anything, I feel numb.

I pull out my laptop and type an email to my manager explaining that my grandmother has asked me to move to Florida, and since she is my last remaining relative, I feel it is something that I should do and that I need to give my two weeks’ notice. The email address is my boss's personal email so I’m not surprised when my phone starts ringing thirty minutes later. I have worked in that doctor's office longer than I have dated Jon. My manager is worried I’m making a rash decision and is calling more as a friend than an employer.

We talk for over an hour. I tell her all about Florida and my grandmother. I tell her about learning I had an uncle and how he had died. It’s when I talk about Kate and the relationship we're forming that Kim, my manager, gets it. Kim had been there for me after the deaths of my parents, and while she doesn’t know everything that has been going on with Jon, she suspected something was wrong. When I tell her that Jon told me I should go Kim isn’t surprised. Kim admits that during the time Jon had been unemployed she had almost told me to kick him out. The one thing I don’t tell Kim about is Ryan. It feels like it will take something away from moving close to be with family if I admit I also have a crush on my grandmother’s hot neighbor.

Kim is sad that I’m leaving but accepts my notice, saying that she will put together an office going away party for me. I feel a weight lifted knowing that I won’t be leaving my office awkwardly. I've worked there almost four years. I'll not miss flu season, but I will miss my coworkers, especially Kim and Nikita. I ask Kim not to say anything until I tell Nikita myself. Kim agrees and says once Nikita knows she will send an email out to the office. I have to laugh when Kim starts saying she’s going to miss me. I remind her that I've not left yet.

When I hang up, I walk to the kitchen, suddenly hungry. Jon is on his cell phone when I come out. He sees me then puts on his coat to finish his call outside. That’s another thing we'll have to figure out, I think, annoyed he feels he has to leave the room to talk to someone. He's on my phone plan. I have been thinking about changing providers anyway because I don't want to deal with having to share data, and our phones are already out of contract. I make myself a sandwich and wait for Jon to come back in. When he does, I tell him I'll be turning off our phones before I leave. Jon replies that he had figured as much and says a friend is on his way to pick him up.

"Will you be back by dinner?"

"Probably not."

Jon takes a shower and gets dressed so he can be ready to go. Where, I don’t know. It’s not my business to know where he goes anymore. After he leaves, I decide I want to make the meatloaf anyway. I can eat the leftovers at work, and it will remind me of Florida. Once it's in the oven, I call my grandmother back. Something about her phone makes it hard for Kate to hear me. Kate asks if it would be alright if I call Ryan instead, and he can relay the message. She gives me his number. Considering Kate can’t hear me, I don’t really have a choice and call Ryan.

"Hullo?"

"Hi, Ryan. It’s Grace. Kate can't hear me, so she asked that I call you."

"Your grandmother needs a hearing aid for the telephone, but she won't listen to me."

"Sorry about that. Why won't she get one?"

"She's stubborn and thinks they look funny in people's ears."





I’m not sure why I think that's so funny, but it makes me laugh. I tell Ryan about the conversation I had with my boss. Ryan is happy for me that it had gone as well as it had. I have two weeks to pack up my life here and move. The idea is daunting. My first thought is to drive, but I’m scared to. It’s over one thousand miles from Cleveland to Tampa. There’s no way I can do that in a day. I probably can’t even do it in two days. That means having to stay somewhere, by myself, along the way.

"What if I flew up and drove down with you?"