Page 52 of Absolute Valor

Moving on to the future without letting go of the past is like trying to catch a train with your arm tied to a post.

Grace seemed to grow by inches overnight. Clothing bought for her only a few weeks ago, were getting too small. Being able to take care of the problem on my own, without waiting for a payday or visiting the local thrift store, was a giant victory. Charleston has a plethora of shops geared for children, and my budget.

A few hours ago when Grace first woke, her fever and fussiness gave us an excuse to lay back in my bed with a teething ring and soft music playing from my phone. She quieted fairly quickly, and we both drifted off to sleep. Now, she’s a ball of fever free energy and, since I have the day off, I think this is the perfect opportunity to head out and tackle the issue of ill-fitting clothing.

With Grace strapped in her car seat, and my sunglasses in place, I turn around to back out of the driveway when a white Lexus blocks my path. “What the—” I’ve been working on filtering what I say, living with a small sponge who has been trying out different sounds, is sometimes complicated. I pray, faithfully, she doesn’t speak the word fuck before something much more acceptable.

Lainie stepped out of the car, her long hair whipping in the refreshing afternoon breeze. Putting my car into park, I opened the door as she approached. “Hey, is everything okay? You’re not taking Grace to the hospital, are you?” The panic in her voice was real. I had felt bad for leaving her party early and called her on the phone to apologize. She brushed it off, admitting she and Austin spent most of the party barricaded up in his old room christening it.

“No, she’s doing so much better this afternoon. It’s just her molars trying to poke through.”

Lainie lowered her head to look into the back seat, “Hey, Miss Grace, you hanging out with your momma today?”

Grace was kicking her feet as fast as she could, babbling in her own unique language only she understood. “Actually, we’re headed out for some much needed clothes shopping—she’s been growing like a weed.”

Standing up straight, she looked at me with a smile. “Audrey, I know you had a run in with Portia. I heard she said some pretty nasty things, but I’d like to give you some free advice, from someone who’s been where you are—letting the ghosts of her past haunt the future. Come on, I’ll buy you two lunch, and then we can put a serious dent in the local economy.”

Lainie followed us to a strip mall not far from the house. As I pulled Grace from the back seat, she started pointing to Lainie. “Come here, darlin’. Give me some practice for when my turn comes.” My eyes bulged, as I assume what she’s saying. “No, Miss Audrey, I’m not pregnant yet. It ain’t for lack of trying, though.”

Settling into the restaurant with its bright walls and kid friendly surroundings, the waitress sets us up with drinks and crackers for Grace. “Have you eaten here before?” Lainie quizzes, her eyes on her menu.

“No, I don’t really eat out much.” I respond honestly.

“We didn’t either growing up, not that there was much around for us to choose from. Even so, when you’re broke and the water is about to be shut off, you don’t really care about a restaurant.”

“I didn’t know, you were—” Not wanting to assume anything again, I let the word hang in the air and her finish.

“Poor?” She added simply.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“How could you know? It ain’t like we’ve had much time to get to know one another. I mean one day you’re working for the family, the next you’re sleeping with one of the brothers.”

My anger is instant and I become defensive, deciding this lunch is a mistake. “For the record, I’m not some…” I look to Grace who is flirting with the baby behind us, “…slut!” I whispered the word, feeling offended. “I haven’t slept with anyone since I was four months pregnant with her. If I have it my way, I won’t ever to do that again, with anyone.”

Lanie reached across the table, taking my trembling hands in hers. “You know, you still have this passion in your belly in the form of hate. Lucas may be dead and gone, but you’re keeping him alive by hating him this much.” Leaning closer to me, her eyes are full of truth and tenderness. “After my attack, I started seeing a therapist, she gave me several tips on how to evict the memories which haunt you. For me, it was going to where the attack happened, and telling Cash exactly how my life would go on, while he rotted in hell for all eternity. I took the power he had over me back, crushing the chains he had shackled me with so I could move on. You need to find something, some way of letting him, and all of the bad things he did to you go.”

We were silent for a while as she let me think about what she had said. She played with Grace, helping her eat a few crackers, and then kissing her salty fingers. “There’s one more thing you need to know, and we can get to the fun part of the day. Portia can take a simple conversation, such as hello, and turn it into anything that makes her look good. Now, I’m not going to steal Chase’s thunder when it comes to what was said last night, but I will tell you this. Portia has always wanted attention, whether it be from the men she allows to touch her or from the women she thinks will react to her lies. Don’t feed the trolls, Audrey, and believe me, Portia is the biggest one under the bridge.”

I hugged Lainie and thanked her for the sound advice. She was right, holding onto the past kept you from moving toward your future. Chase had never given me reason to doubt him, too bad the actions of one man can dictate the reaction to others. As we shopped for Grace, I rolled the words Lainie had said over and over in my mind. It wasn’t until I noticed an old poster for an event in the city that the idea for how to bury Lucas for good came to me. I would need to see if Priscilla would watch Grace for me, as the place where I wanted to do this was not ideal for her.

Tonight was Dylan’s bachelor party. When the planning began, I assumed they would jet off to Vegas and let the good times roll. When Chase said they were having a cookout at Dylan’s house downtown, I almost couldn’t believe it. According to Chase, Dylan had had his fill of strippers and living fast. He wanted to have the men who meant most to him grab a beer and something to eat, sit around the firepit and sharing bullshit stories.

As I pulled into my drive, the sun was starting its daily descent into the horizon. Shadows of the current day began to creep into the crevices of memories we will have for a lifetime. Grace had fallen asleep the second I turned on the car engine, her tiny snores filling the inside of the car.

On my porch is the outline of a man. A tall gentle soul I have come to love, although I’m too frightened to admit it out loud. Terrified of giving him any ammunition to hold against me when he wants something. As soon as the engine is off, Grace’s head pops up and she is talking a mile a minute. Chase remained seated on the top step, his legs spread with one on the second step while the other rests on the first. He looks natural, as if he’s always belonged.

He raises his hand in the air in greeting, a gentle smile on his face. I’ve promised myself I’ll listen to what he has to say, giving him every moment he needs to set the record straight. Grace finally notices him and begs to be let down, running toward him as fast as her little legs, and new sandals, will carry her.

His smile grows larger as she approaches and it’s just before she reaches the steps I notice he has his guitar in his hands.

“Grace Helms, how are you beautiful girl?”

His fingers strum the strings, a random melody filling my porch. She puts a foot on the step, reaching out for his guitar, so he stops playing and lifts her up to the top step with him. She rewards his efforts by wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and kissing the side of his face. His finger resuming the strumming of the harmony from before.

“My name is Grace,

I gotta pain in my face.

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