Through His Grace (4 page)

Beds, desks, chairs, clothes, shoes, toys, school supplies, groceries, books, toiletries, bathroom accessories, plug covers, cabinet locks…the list of things Grace needed to take care of went on and on. And those were only the items she knew she’d need!
Mary’ll have way more to add to the list. I’ll be so glad to see her
. They’d spoken last night, and Grace had filled her in on what was happening before enlisting her expertise for today’s venture.

She’d briefly considered asking a friend to babysit while she went shopping. It would make things easier, but that wasn’t the best option. Even if Lizzie and Jake would let her out of their sight that long—something she had no evidence to suggest would happen since they’d all slept in her room last night—she wanted the kids to choose the things that would make them feel at home.

Ten minutes later Grace was glad she’d called ahead to let Mary know they were coming. Her friend welcomed them into her furniture shop with hugs, smiles, and juice boxes. No uncomfortable questions or long explanations needed, just loving support.

“Do you have a race-car bed?” Jake asked, getting them started right away.

“Boy, do I.” Mary led them to a beautiful display. A proud race-car bed in polished faux-chrome more than satisfied the little boy. As Jake bounced up and down on the soft mattress, Mary whispered the specifics to Grace.

“The wheels and fenders come off,” she elaborated, “so when he outgrows race cars, he won’t need a new bed.”

“I’ll take it,” Grace said. “Do you have a desk and dresser in the same shade of wood?”

“Absolutely.” Mary led them over to a square desk with three drawers along one side and a matching hutch atop it. “It comes with a chair, and to the left is the dresser—Jake won’t be able to reach the top drawer yet, but it’s a pretty good size for the blue bedroom.” Grace had told Mary which bedrooms the children had chosen. “There’s even a matching toy chest. If you’d like, I have a wallpaper border with racing cars—you could put it on the walls and glue a strip across the box to carry out your theme.”

“Perfect.” Grace watched as Jake opened the toy box and sat inside. “Mary, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I’m not finished yet! Where’s Lizzie?”

“She wandered that way.” Grace, Mary, and Jake followed the sound of Lizzie’s voice, finding her not too far away.

“Lizzie, Lizzie!” Jake rushed up to his sister. “I’m getting a race-car bed.”

“That’s great!” Lizzie grinned. “Now you can help me pick out stuff for my room.”

“Okay.” Jake looked around before pointing to a bunk bed. “How ‘bout that one?”

“I only need one bed, silly.” Lizzie peeked at a dainty white four-poster bed with a canopy.

“I like this one.” Mary had apparently noticed Lizzie’s glance as Grace had.

“It’s like a bed for a princess.” Lizzie’s eyes grew round.

“Yes, it is,” Grace agreed, “and the roses on that canopy would look just right with the rose color of your room.”

Lizzie ran her hand along one of the four posters before gingerly climbing onto the mattress. Jake clambered alongside her, and they both lay back on the bed.

“It’s comfy,” Jake announced, “but kinda”—he wrinkled his nose—“girly. Are you sure you don’t wanna race car, Lizzie?”

“I’m sure.” Lizzie didn’t even slide off the bed before making her decision.

“This comes with it.” Mary gestured to a desk/vanity with a mirror on top and two drawers below on either side and a high-backed chair in front of it.

“Oooh,” Lizzie breathed, sitting before the mirror and opening the drawers in delight.

Grace looked at the tall dresser and spotted a white, cushioned bench beside it. She walked over and opened it to find a toy chest inside.

“We’ll take the set,” she told Mary.

“Wait a minute now,” Mary said. “I think you’ll need one more thing.” She took Lizzie’s hand and led her to a furniture grouping a few feet away. “What do you think of that bookcase?”

“It’s like a dollhouse!” Lizzie rushed over to the white, house-shaped bookcase. It was cleverly made, with the shelves segmented in various places. The long sections would be for books, but the smaller areas formed “rooms.” It would be a dollhouse and bookcase in one.

“This one’s free.” Mary stepped close to Grace. “The maker shipped it as a floor model before discontinuing the piece. I can’t sell it so it’s been in the back room for ages, just waiting for a little girl to love it.”

“Thanks.” Grace hugged her friend. She hadn’t wanted to mention it, but the furniture price tags had caught her attention. She wasn’t going to let that stop the kids from making their new home—well, home—but it was a concern.

“Come on. The kids can look around while we get squared away.” Mary led her to the cash register.

Grace pulled out her checkbook, steeling herself for the total.

When Mary named the price, Grace glared at her friend. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Hush, now.” Mary folded her arms over her chest. “You think I’m going to make a profit off you?”

“You’re already throwing in the bookcase and wallpaper border, Mary. This has to be…half off?”

“That’s about right. Listen—my supplier pays the shipping for new pieces to replace these.” Mary spoke in a rush. “I’m giving them to you wholesale—you pay back exactly what I paid to get them in the first place. I’m not losing a cent.” “You’re a prize, you know that?” Grace hugged her friend. “One daughter of the King, helping her sister in Christ.” Mary hugged her back. “Now when do you want the items delivered?”

“Special delivery!” Nickels knocked on the Willard door at 11:00 the following Saturday, right after he’d left the group home.
They aren’t waiting on the porch—I guess I’m not a stranger anymore
.

“Hello, Eric!” Grace ushered him in with a polite smile.

No one calls me Eric. What possessed me to tell her that instead of sticking with plain old Nickels?
As if he didn’t know. He wanted to hear his God-given name from her rosy lips. It sounded good, too.

“Good morning, Gr—” Nickels gave himself a mental kick. Just because he thought of her as Grace didn’t mean he had the right to abandon his good manners. “Miss Willard.”

“You had it right the first time.” Grace’s good-natured wink made him aware of how pretty she looked today. The hunter green of her blouse brought out the color of her eyes and a hint of burnished copper in her hair.

“Grace.” He tested the word, drawing it out like a long, cool drink of water. Her eyebrows raised in a mute question he had no answer for just yet.

“Mr. Nichols!” Jake came barreling down the stairs, Lizzie right after him.

“Jake!” Grace’s sharp tone brought the little boy to a skidding halt. “What do we know about running in the house—especially on the stairs?”

“Not to.” Jake looked at his sneakers in penitence. “I’m sorry, Auntie Grace.”

“I know you’re excited. You’ll do better next time.” Grace stopped to give the boy a hug. “The rules are there so you don’t get hurt.” She drew Lizzie into the embrace. “You’re both too precious to me, understand?”

They’re not even her children, and she’s a good mama
. Nickels watched the tender moment with a lump in his throat. The boy’s eyes weren’t haunted by so much sorrow, and his sister no longer looked as though she shouldered the burdens of her small world. Just one week, and their aunt’s loving heart had started to heal the wounds of the past.

“How ‘bout we move these little fellas into the kitchen?” Nickels gestured to the box in his right hand.

“Good idea.” Grace led him through the cool tones in the entryway then into the warmer hues and furnishings of the living room and finally into the kitchen.

The kitchen matched her smile—bright and welcoming. The light blue of her counters adorned shining white cabinets with glass knobs. He noted that the doors below the sink were constrained by a childproof lock. The areas beneath the counter had collected a swath of smudges—silent testimony to the presence of tiny fingers.

Over by the breakfast nook she’d put a child-sized wooden table and chairs. Lizzie and Jake promptly sat down, though Jake swung his feet around, kicking the air in anticipation.

“Here you go, sir.” Nickels scooped two chicks out of the box and delivered one to Jake.

“Thanks!” He cuddled the baby bird to his chest, completely focused on the ball of comfort in his hands.

“And one for you, milady.” Nickels swept a slight bow and presented Lizzie with her chick. The little girl beamed at him before nodding regally.

From the corner of his eye he saw Grace smiling at their little game. He swept a deeper bow and proffered another fluff ball. “Your Grace.”

Her eyes danced with amusement as she took it from his hands, and he could tell she appreciated his little jest.

“No, Mr. Nichols.” Jake scooted his chair back abruptly and stood by Lizzie, closer to Grace. “She’s our auntie Grace.”

“Of course.” Nickels realized immediately how Jake had misunderstood. “It was kind of a joke. You see”—he squatted down to the boy’s eye level—“in the past a fine lady, like your aunt, could be a duchess. And when a person spoke to a duchess he addressed her as ‘Your Grace.’ I was trying to tell all of you what a fine lady I think your aunt is.” He looked over his shoulder and saw a faint blush tinge Grace’s cheeks.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Lizzie smiled at him in approval. “That’s how a gentleman should treat a lady.”

“Okay.” Jake trotted back to his seat after looking at Grace for confirmation.

Poor kids
. They were afraid something would take their aunt Grace from them. He couldn’t blame them. Nobody liked to have something precious snatched away.

He settled onto one of the tall stools by the breakfast nook beside Grace, enjoying his proximity to her but keeping his focus on the kids.

“Thanks.” She leaned close to whisper, and he could smell the sweetness of mint on her breath. She didn’t say more, making him wonder if she was thanking him for reassuring the kids or appreciating his compliment. He hoped it was both—it had been too long since he’d complimented a beautiful woman, and he liked to think he’d done it right.

“I meant every word.” He held her gaze for a moment before reaching over and stroking the chick in her hands. It was the best reason he could think of to get a little closer. He’d thought about her all week.

“Oh.” Her small gasp let him know she wasn’t unaffected by his presence.

He was glad because he intended to be around a lot more. He looked back at Lizzie and Jake and watched them trying to make their chicks race across the tabletop.
Jake’s going to need a man in his life
. He snuck another glance at Grace.
And I hope he’s not the only one
.

“See you next week.” Mr. Nichols—
Eric
, Grace reminded herself—made it a statement, not a question.

“We’ll be here.” She promised, hearing Lizzie and Jake slap their palms in a high five in the background.

“I look forward to it.”

“So do I.” Grace all but whispered this last, but he heard her. She could tell by the huge grin lighting his handsome face.

“Wait, Mr. Nichols!” Lizzie’s voice stopped him as he was putting the chicks in his truck. “Auntie Grace, can’t Mr. Nichols see our new rooms?”

“Yeah!” Jake put out his hands like a race-car driver and
vroomed
out to stand beside his sister.

“I’m sure Mr. Nichols has other things to do today,” Grace said. It was one thing to have a handsome man in her kitchen—quite another to have that handsome man upstairs in her home. On the other hand Lizzie and Jake were showing how proud they were. If they didn’t feel it was their home, they wouldn’t even ask. And, after all, they were the most important thing there. She pushed aside thoughts of the overflowing laundry hamper in the upstairs bathroom to glance at Eric. She’d take her cue from him. If he said yes, up they’d go. If he wanted to wait until next week, that would do, too.

He walked back. “I’ve got time.” He looked at his wrist, but Grace noticed he didn’t wear a watch.

“Pretty please?” Lizzie folded her hands behind her back and rocked up and down on her toes.

“I’ve got a race car in there!” Take’s fervor showed he found this to be the ultimate enticement.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to miss that.” Eric grinned. “I was about to put the chicks in the truck. Even with the windows rolled down, it’s starting to get too hot to leave them there.” He raised his eyebrow at Grace.

“Bring them in,” she said, bowing to the inevitable. She was no math specialist, but three against one would clearly win her no points.

They left the boxes of chicks in the kitchen first. Jake rushed ahead of them at full gallop, heading for the stairs.

“Jake…” Grace used her warning tone, and the little boy pulled up short.

“Oh, right.” He took the steps at a more reasonable pace.

When they reached the doorway, Eric let out a long whistle. “Now that’s something!” Grace followed him into the room as he walked over to the bed, making quite a show of examining the wheels.

“I’m gonna be a race-car driver!” Jake proclaimed proudly, bouncing onto the still-unmade bed. “See?” He turned an imaginary wheel as though driving.