Coming back to Carin, Grace had taken a long step off the edge at the deep end of the pool, Josh thought while helping her into the vehicle.
“You shouldn’t feel that sorry for me, Josh. I could have told you back then.” She was leaning her head back against the seat as he climbed in the driver’s seat, and he knew she said more than she realized.
“Somehow I don’t think you had it in you at the time,” he said gently. “And sorry isn’t exactly the word I would use.”
He noticed she’d started crying again but put his attention on the road ahead rather than comment. He finally said, “You like chocolate ice cream? I might have some tucked away in the freezer.”
“Sure.”
She’d cry, eat a bowl of ice cream, watch a movie, probably cry some more. It would be an evening he wouldn’t likely forget, but it struck him as what she most needed. The stress of being here had to be monumental for her.
“We’ll watch a movie, have supper, then ice cream for dessert, and you’ll stop thinking quite so hard. I can hear your mind whirling all the way over here, Grace.”
She gave him a weak smile. “What am I thinking?”
“In a minute you’re going to be thinking about red rabbits, because I’m going to tell you a story you won’t be able to resist-about pink elephants and red rabbits and a great big green circus tent.”
Her reply was a bit wobbly when she said, “Really? What happens?”
“The circus comes to town,” he began, “and the pink elephants escape by pulling the green circus tent right over on top of them.”
“Chased by red rabbits, no, blue rabbits. That’s a better story.”
“Blue rabbits, there’s an image. Then what?”
She sighed. “I don’t know.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “It’s been a bad, very bad, no good day,” she muttered, trying to quote a children’s book title. “And I’ve got a headache.”
“I just bet you do,” he said in sympathy, his hand reaching over to hers. “How about telling me of a day that was the opposite of this one. A very good, extraordinary day.”
“My Angel made me breakfast for my birthday.”
The way she smiled satisfied him that whatever she was thinking about was a good memory. He hoped it wasn’t a guy she was calling her angel. “What did you have?”
“A blueberry bagel with cream cheese, orange juice, strawberries, and some more blueberries.” Grace sighed. “A nice breakfast.”
“You want breakfast stuff tonight for our meal?”
“Sugared cereal? Like Cocoa Puffs?”
“Hmm, I’ve got oatmeal.”
She made a face, and he laughed. “You still prefer your oatmeal in oatmeal cookies, I expect.”
“I remember your mother made the best cookies,” she said wistfully.
“She does. We’re invited over there for dinner tomorrow night. She loves company, and I bet she’ll fix us a batch of oatmeal cookies if I told her you requested it. You could take some back to the camper with you.”
“That sounds nice. I have good memories of your mom.”
“We Thanes don’t mind sharing her.”
They arrived at his home, and he came around to help her from the truck. They followed a ribbon of solar lights up to the front door. Steam rose on the lake in the cool evening. He stopped to show her. “I bet you don’t see views like this in Chicago.” The water shimmered and caught the moon rising just over the trees.
“Oh, Josh, it’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Like a picture painted just for me.”
“Maybe it is, Grace,” he said quietly. “It’s easy to imagine our Father saying, ‘I think my daughter Grace should see something truly lovely this evening,’ and arranging that specifically with you in mind.” He didn’t know if she thought much about God anymore. That would be another layer of sadness if her childhood had robbed her of that too.
She didn’t respond except to whisper, “Thank you.”
She took a couple of steps back down the path to where the view of the lake was more expansive, and he followed a step behind her. It was a peaceful night, still and beautiful, the sounds in the moonlight beginning to chorus, an owl calling close by.
Josh wondered if Grace would agree to a visitor once she was back in Chicago. He wasn’t about to let her disappear from his life for another dozen years. Not now that he knew what she was dealing with. If ever a woman needed a safe friend, he thought, it’s this one. He would be that, one way or another. He’d nudge his way back into her life and figure out what he could do to help. Christmas was coming, a reason to visit.
Back when she was a kid, had she ever risked telling anyone what was happening? Ann had said no when he asked her, but he wondered if Grace might have tried but hadn’t been believed. The implications of that possibility cut like a sharp blade through him.
She’ll be getting cold. Josh went over and caught her hand. “Come on, Grace.” He led her up onto the porch, opened the door, and helped her inside.
“Josh?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you like kids?”
“Love them,” he replied promptly as he hung up the jacket she’d worn.
“Truly?”
“What? I can’t be good with kids and like the outdoors?”
“Then why aren’t you married, raising a family?”
His ability to follow her train of thought wasn’t improving. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he quipped, one eyebrow raised over a grin.
She gave him a look he didn’t need to interpret.
“Okay, so that was the quick answer-in-the-moment. My brother, Will, probably gets there first with Karen, has a bunch of grandkids for Mom and Dad to enjoy. But I figure Gabriel and I are going to get there eventually. I like kids. I like tossing a ball around, putting worms on hooks, being lifeguard when they splash around in the lake.”
“So you’d settle down?”
“It’s no doubt in the realm of possibility that I might grow up that much someday. Not that I’m in any rush.”
She smiled. “Now that sounds more like you.”
“I’m the youngest. I’ve got time to consider matters. But I do like kids. They get to have most of the fun in life.”
“You sound like you mean it.”
“I do. This house is designed so I can build on another section when I need the room for a family.” That was true enough-he actually did plan the design around the idea of having a wife and kids one day, though he’d kept that to himself.
“Where are your dogs?” she wondered, looking around.
He could handle that turn in the conversation. “Probably sleeping in the living room on their sofa. We have a deal-they get one piece of furniture in the house, and I don’t complain about how they laze around on it, sometimes with their feet in the air.”
Grace laughed-shaky, but it was a laugh.
“Through there.” He gestured toward the living room. Sure enough, the dogs were there and stirred themselves enough to check out who it was, then went back to resting their heads on their paws. Grace went over and stroked their backs.
The people couch was still neatly arranged with pillows and his mother’s comforter. “Make yourself at home, Grace. There are photos on the walls and movies on the shelf, so feel free to browse while I find us some food.”
“I’m not much for eating right now, Josh.”
“You can have something simple with me then-take a few bites to be polite. Go wander. I’ve got some pictures of the lake you’ll enjoy.”
He deliberately left her on her own and headed into the kitchen. He started coffee, reflected a moment, and heated water for tea in case that would sound better to her. She needed to eat, so something that would tempt her lack of an appetite.
He opened cabinets and considered options, opened the refrigerator, and finally settled on fixings for a simple meal. He listened to Grace moving around the living room, recognized the sound of the floorboards as she walked over to the shelves where he had family photos displayed, movies and books stacked. He heard the fireplace doors swing open. Good. She needed the warmth. He’d left it banked, but it should kick back to a good blaze when he tossed on another log.