Loving Grace (19 page)

There were five pictures in the packet, along
with school photo. One in his soccer uniform and another set taken
at some studio. The last was smaller and taken at a gallery,
standing between two paintings that Noel knew where his own.

He felt the heavy paper on the bottom and bit
his lip at the large printed letters, but thrilled to get the first
one, in his son’s own handwriting.

Dear Father. Mom said I could write you now,
and it would be good practice too, though she helped me on the
compa composition. I don’t have much to say except to ask if you
are flying to the States this summer as Grandmamma Rosalind said?
Mother says that you will probably take a hotel room, but I invite
you to stay here, so that we can get to know each other in
person.

Jared Hawthorn.

Noel folded the letter, having not made up
his mind until this very moment. Before he’d wavered back and
forth, having no desire to return and chance stirring up the old
scandal and risk upsetting his son. Elisa and Bryce were in Federal
prison and he’d long ago purged them from his mind. But though his
art was once more popular, again embraced and lauded, he hesitated
attending the ceremony honoring his mother, and having her
paintings hung in the National Art Gallery in Washington DC. After
that first dry year moving to Milan, he’d painted everything but
women, and only afterwards, paintings of Grace. His mother said
he’d matured tremendously, but Noel often laughed at himself,
noticing honestly that after his son was born, he’d painted
children playing, sailing, sons and fathers.

He’d moved on, true. His colors were
brighter, his creations at times whimsical, other times peaceful
and still. Ironically, those sold faster than any of the others.
Now running his fingers over the clear picture of his son, he knew
he wanted to paint Jared. And to paint mother and son together.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Arlington, Virginia

“He’s coming and Grandmamma too.”

Grace paused on the front porch of her small
white house, having come out to get the mail. As usual, Jared beat
her to it. “Noel?”

“Yep.” Her son held up the letter. “I can
read that much.”

She laughed and took the pages from him.
“Come on, sit on the swing and I’ll read it.”

He ran up the steps, his sneakers pounding
against the wood and then skidded to a stop on the swing. He
plunked down and gave her a raised brow that so reminded her of
Noel.

Grace sat in a rocker and read aloud, “Dear
Son. I will indeed be flying to the States with your Grandmother
Rosalind. If it is agreeable with your mother, we should love to
stay with you after the ceremony, as mother has several meetings
and we’ve booked our rooms in advance. If it is no bother to Grace,
we will come directly there as soon as we are done with our
commitments.”

“He sounds funny,” Jared cut in.

“Formal you mean?” Grace nodded and smiled.
“They probably speak with better grammar than we do, and much less
slang.”

Her son came over and perched on the arm of
her chair. “You don’t mind he’s going to stay here?”

“No. I don’t mind. It’s nothing fancy
though.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know. Those pictures
Grandmama sent us of her house and gardens and stuff are fancier
and bigger than the White House.”

“Yes.” Grace grimaced but patted his leg.
“We’ll manage. At least we can offer them their own rooms and
there’s the family room in the basement.”

He frowned. “Do you think they play board
games? Does my father play catch and stuff?”

“I don’t know, Jared. I assume he does.” She
shrugged.

He sighed and looked up at the porch ceiling,
saying in a boy-like way, “Well he’s famous and rich and an artist.
I guess that’s better than playing ball and stuff.”

“And stuff.” She laughed and stood up,
ruffling his hair. “Come on, you can call Uncle Seth and tell him
the news. We’ve only got a week to plan.”

He bounded into the house, slamming the
screen door and Grace sighed. She shook her head and set the letter
on the key shelf.

She could hear Jared on the phone in the
kitchen, so she slipped into her room and sat on the bed. In the
coolness, the quiet, Grace turned her head to meet her reflection
in the mirror, seeing laugh lines at the corner of her eyes, a
fuller, more mature face, and hair now red tinted and cut in a
sleek, straight chin length style.

She looked like the mother of a six-year-old,
maturity and motherhood had altered both her face and body. Now she
had rounded curves and soft hollows, and a tan nearly year round
from Jared’s outdoor activities. Now she had to jog and to watch
her weight, and fret about stupid things like stretch marks no one
else could see, and whether or not her backside was spreading
outward and falling downward.

Grace lay back on the bed laughing aloud. As
if, Noel would want her now. He was rich and famous, far more
enigmatic than before, according to the gossip rags. He had scads
of women whenever he appeared on the social scene; Paris, London,
Milan, it didn’t matter, and she hated herself for buying the darn
things off the grocery store rack. She always shoved them under the
bed or in the trash before her son saw them. In a topcoat and tails
or on some yacht, every time she saw his picture, her body would
ache as if burning with fever and her heart would trip several
beats. She knew the kids at school, the parents in the
neighborhood, probably showed Jared those rags with photos of his
father and some high profile beauty, she didn’t want him to
discover she’d sunk low enough to buy them though.

“He wants to talk to you!” Jared yelled from
the kitchen. “Mom!”

She got up and walked to the kitchen. “Jared,
don’t yell. What is your grandmother going to think of your
manners?”

“Sorry. I’m going out to tell Joey about my
father coming.” He ran across the living room.

“Hello?”

“He’s wound up.” Seth laughed. “Is it
true?”

“Yes. At least, that’s what Noel wrote.”

“Well, it’s about time. I kept thinking on
Jared’s birthday, or at least Christmas, he’d show up.”

“Not me. I knew the way it would be. He’s
good to write though and Rosalind is so nice, and she calls a
lot.”

“You need anything for your sort-of lover,
kind of mother-in-law from Europe?”

She laughed. “Seth, don’t.”

“Eh, I can’t help it. It’s got to be strange
for you.”

“Not really. I don’t have any hard feelings
toward Noel, and I like his mother, so...”

“Yeah. Listen, Grace, Rita and the kids are
taking off for a week’s vacation, but I really will be around for
you.”

She snorted. “A week of sports, beer,
trashing the apartment the way Rita won’t let you. Okay, I’ll call
if I need anything.”

Seth was chuckling. “Do. Bye.”

Grace hung up and looked out the window to
see Jared and a few boys in on the back lawn, hanging on the swing
set instead of swinging. She sat down and made her grocery list,
and then a bunch of notes to re-clean the house and get her work
caught up so she’d have that week free. Only when she went to bed
did she admit how nervous she was. Only then did she think again of
how different their worlds were, and how far apart their lives
seemed.

~ * ~

That week came after a weekend of Grace and
Jared seeing his father and grandmamma on TV. Sitting down in the
family room on the green sectional, they watched the ceremony, or
rather snippets of it. Grace knew Jared would have questions if the
reporters brought up Noel’s first attempt to live in the
States.

They did. A blonde woman reporter on a
popular network seemed more interested in relaying news of Noel’s
affairs and putting up old footage of Elisa and Bryce rather than
focusing on the reason for Rosalind’s visit.

“Is that true?”

“We’ll talk later. After your bath. You can
ask your father too, if it bothers you.”

Jared got up to take his bath. “He’s got a
lot of girlfriends,” he muttered, leaving the room.

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, he does.” She
clicked off the TV, heading up to Jared’s room and preparing
herself for that talk. He was a smart kid and there’d be no
waltzing around it. Hopefully she’d give him the facts and that
would be enough.

~ * ~

“Damn.” Noel watched the same footage sitting
in the hotel room.

Rosalind, fresh from a shower, grunted, “Turn
it off. It’s nothing but vulgar distortion.”

He clicked it off but sat back and glanced at
her. “Jared probably hears that all the time.”

His mother’s blue eyes went over his face.
“Then you bring it out in the open and make sure he knows the
truth.” She got up and patted his leg. “Get some rest. We’ll see
him in the morning.”

Noel took off his tie, dress shirt, and sat
on the end of the bed after his mother went to her suite. He called
Grace’s number.

She sounded breathless when she answered,
“Hullo?”

“Grace?”

“Noel.”

He pulled off his shoes. “I just saw the
footage from today. Is that the sort of thing that comes up
often?”

“Yes. That and what they print in the rags
about your playboy lifestyle.”

He grunted in disgust. “Should I address it
with Jared while I’m here?”

“I’ve just told him we’d talk after his bath.
He saw the footage. But it wouldn’t hurt if you cleared it up
too.”

“I will.” He lay back on the bed, pinching
the bridge of his nose and feeling the jet lag. “Will he be at
school when we get there?”

“Yes. I can keep him home.”

“No. It will give us a chance to settle in,
and for you and mother to get comfortable.”

“Noel, I live very, modestly. Is she aware of
that? My house is, well...”

“I’m sure it’s very comfortable, and orderly,
Grace.”

She laughed. “Oh, well, since I had Jared
I’ve become less so. We’re running in circles most of the time,
between sports and things. Just, prepare her okay?”

“Mother isn’t a snob, Grace. She’s
comfortable anywhere. You’ll see.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s good to hear you, again.”

“Is it?”

Noel peered up at the ceiling. “Yes.”

“You too. See you in the morning.”

She hung up and Noel sat up, putting the
phone in the rest and smiling at the soft drawl in Grace’s voice.
Gone was the tense clip and the business-like tone, Grace sounded
like she laughed a lot, she sounded more relaxed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Grace was on the porch when the rental car
pulled up. There wasn’t much room for parking, and her own van was
in the drive. They’d have to park on the curb in front of the
house. Warm for April, nearly eighty, she had dressed casually in a
pair of shorts, sandals and top.

Grace held her breath as Noel’s strong frame
unfolded from the driver’s side. She was trying to appear casual
but oh God—he looked so good and so tanned. When he popped the
trunk, she noticed that there was some silver in his short curly
hair.

Her eyes were drawn to Rosalind, looking
different from the woman dressed so stylish on TV. Rosalind’s braid
hung to her hips and she wore a pair of white jeans, ordinary
sandals, and a peach-colored top.

“Hello.” Grace moved down the steps with a
smile. “Welcome.” She reached out her hand, but Rosalind embraced
her.

She gave her a hard hug and smiled hugely,
“Grace, it’s wonderful to meet you at last.”

Grace chuckled and relaxed. “What should I
call you?”

“Rose or Rosalind.”

Grace took her hand and squeezed as Noel
headed up the walk with their bags. “Come in out of the sun.” She
led them up the stairs and to the porch and held the door open.
“Make yourself at home, there’s not much of it, but it’s better
than my last apartment.”

“It’s lovely.” Rosalind plopped down on an
overstuffed chair. “I remember when I used to live in a space just
this big. Six or seven of us, starving artists. Not quite as
romantic as it seems.”

“No.” Grace held the door for Noel. He
stepped in and shoved his sunglasses back on his head, glancing at
her.

For a moment, they stared and Grace’s
nostrils filled with the scent of expensive cologne and sun-warmed
male skin. He too had lines at the corners of his eyes, and he’d
matured, become more handsome, if that were possible.

“Grace.”

“Noel.” She wet her lips, looked away. “Your
rooms are right here.” She walked through the living room showing
him into the hall and the two doors side by side, with the bath
further down. Her room and Jared’s were on the opposite end. “Take
your pick, neither is very large.”

He set down his suitcase in the room with tan
carpet, antique wardrobe and a big sleigh bed. His mother’s in a
yellow and white room with garden print, and wicker furniture.

In the living room, Grace inquired after
refreshments, and then went to get them bottled water. However,
Rosalind said, “Don’t wait on us, Grace. We can do for
ourselves.”

“Okay.” Grace sat down, watching Noel take a
seat on the sofa. “I should warn you, it won’t be this relaxed and
quiet once Jared comes home.”

“I can’t wait to see him.” Rosalind yawned.
“This jet lag...”

“Why don’t you nap until he gets home? I’ll
be putting dinner on soon.”

“Thank you.” Rosalind stood and moved to hug
her again. She patted Grace’s shoulder and murmured, “I’m not
disappointed at all, Grace, you know. You are exactly as you
sounded, and I couldn’t be more pleased to have you raising my
grandson.”

“Thank you.”

Rosalind smiled, tilting her head and looking
Grace over. “I’ll have to paint the three of you together, the ones
Noel has done of you were from photographs.”

Grace dare not look at Noel though she was
curious. “I’d be flattered, surprised too, if you can get Jared to
sit for it.”