Turning Grace (12 page)

Blood, my blood, was rolling down my cheeks, reminiscent of tears. The mirror was a blur, but I squinted to focus in on what exactly was going on. I gasped when I realized there was not a single trace of white in my eyes. They were red. Brilliantly red. And blood continued to roll down my face like a running faucet.

From what I could see, everything else was okay. My mouth, my nose, my teeth, my ears. All there, all still intact. I was just crying…blood.

With nausea and hunger beginning to arise in the pit of my stomach, the hunger won and I knew I needed to make my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped my face before heading downstairs. It was difficult to see, as the blood continuously surged out. I paced my steps. 

Mom had left breakfast in the fridge and I couldn’t even make it to the table. I stood in the refrigerator door to eat.

After allowing the amazing breakfast to settle into my belly, which actually felt like it was all gone as soon as it entered my mouth, I headed back upstairs to get my blood-speckled sheets off the bed and into the wash. I hadn’t looked into the mirror yet, but my eyes seemed to have gone back to normal as soon as I began eating. Quite honestly, I couldn’t tell you if that were certain. That food was all I could think about and I was afraid to look in the mirror again.

I chose to once again forget the freaky things happening to my body. It was actually beginning to be routine to wake up knowing something was going to be wrong.

As I worked to clean my room, thoughts of tonight began to float around my mind. The butterflies in my stomach commenced their dance as a forecast of Tristen and I being together clouded me. I pictured a night full of sexy staring and flirty smiles and tender touches. I pictured a whole lot of almost kissing moments, which I actually welcomed because when it finally did happen, it would be like opening the gates to heaven. Trumpets and all. Although, if I kept putting it off, I could run the risk of it never actually happening.

I finally finished cleaning up and decided to shower, still avoiding the mirror. After a towel dry, I wrapped it around me and decided to text Phoebe to be sure we were all still on track with the plans. Phoebe spoke to Eric. Eric apparently wanted Tristen’s number so that he could befriend him and confirm the plans. Finally, Tristen texted me and let me know everything was good to go.

With everything in place, and while eating a roast beef po-boy Mom prepared for me, I began to make my costume.

I decided to take some old, ratty clothes and shred them. With some fake blood and silicon flesh left over from a few Halloweens ago, I began on the work of art on my face.

With some hesitation before looking in the mirror, I finally faced the music. I looked normal, maybe a little bit tired. I assessed my eyes, opening them wide and shutting them tight a few times. Nothing there. 

Although what my body was doing seemed really cool in some ways, healing itself in no time, it was still reminding me that I was, in fact, sick. There was definitely something wrong with me. As much as I wanted to deny it, my body was not allowing me to forget it. Could one consider my amazing healing abilities to be a sickness or a blessing?

But with this weekend, I would try my hardest to just forget about any of that.

While enjoying a delicious beef pot pie, I examined my face before continuing on into my Halloween makeup kit. Some highlighting, black patches, a little prosthetics, and blood should do the trick. I popped in my favorite zombie DVD, season one of The Walking Dead, and began the transformation.

Halfway through, my phone began to ring. I leaned over to see the caller ID.

760-555-7589

Who the heck was this? I was about to ignore the call, when I realized the number actually looked familiar. Megan.

“Hello?”

There was no response.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

“Is this…is this Gracie?”

How did she know my name? I didn’t leave a message. And Gracie? No one called me Gracie except Mom.

“Um…Yes, this is Grace. Is this Megan?”

“Yes. It’s me. How are you?”

Her voice seemed shaky. Almost nervous.

“I’m fine. I uh...how did you know my name was Grace?”

…

“Megan?”

“
I just knew. I just knew it was you Gracie.”

I could hear a sniffle. This phone call was getting weirder by the minute.

“I’m sorry I didn’t leave a message. I honestly didn’t even know why I called you. It’s just that I found your number one day in my mother’s room and figured you knew her.”

“
Evie? How is she? Is she okay?”

Her voice grew frantic.

“Evie? I’m sorry, but I don’t know who that is.”

“
Your mother. My sister.”

“
Um, my mother’s name is Veronica.”

“
Veronica? No.” She sounded confused and I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. It felt like nowhere.

“
Megan, I’m sorry, I must have gotten things mixed up. I was calling because I thought…I thought you knew my mother and about…things I guess. I’m not sure why exactly I called, but I think I may have made a mistake. Thank you for returning my call, though. I really have to go.”

“
No wait! Please. Gracie, please. Your mother is Eve. Her real name is Eve.”

“
Megan, I think you might be mista—”

“
You are from California. Your dad’s name is Jack Manning. You had a dog named Lucy. You were very, very sick when you were little.”

My heart jumped into my mouth, leaving me unable to say a word.

“I am your aunt, Gracie. I am Aunt Megan. Please don’t hang up. I just want to know where you are. What happened? Why did your mom take you away from us? You got better and she took you away. She never called. She just left.” The sound of her voice revealed that waterfalls were falling from her eyes at that very moment. Her sadness flowed through the phone.

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say to this woman? I had no idea who she was. For all I knew, she could be some psycho woman stalker. But it all made sense. It coincided with the note I read from Meg to Evie. She could really be my aunt. My family. Someone my mother hid from me for years.

“Gracie, please talk to me. I have waited to hear from you for over ten years. Are you and your mother ok—”

I hung up.

I didn’t know what else to say. She wanted to know so much, and I knew nothing. I didn’t even know if she was really telling the truth. Why would my mother lie to me about having a family? We didn’t have a family. Mom was an only child. Her parents died in a car accident before she had me. Dad had family, but he was an only child too. My grandfather died and my grandmother on my dad’s side had Alzheimer’s and was in a home somewhere far away. There was really no one but me and Mom. Why would she lie about having a sister? What was she holding back?

The doorbell rang.

This was going to be an important night. I knew Mom was keeping things from me, and as much as I wanted to know what the hell was going on, I decided to push those thoughts aside and focus on what was in front of me.

And as I opened the door, there he was, right in front of me.

“Oh my God! Are you dead?” Tristen asked in horror.

I tried to hold back my smile. He almost looked exactly like me! Blood and dirt smeared over his ratty clothes. Dark circles under his eyes and wounds on his checks and neck.  “Oh my God! Are
you
dead?” I asked.

Tristen lifted his arms out in front of him and stumbled in through the door slowly. “Brains,” he grumbled in a pained voice.

I laughed and panicked at the same time as I realize he was going to crash right into me. I contemplated moving out of the way, but realized standing in his path would probably be quite delightful. Anything to have him close.

I braced myself as he closed in on me. When he did reach me, he wrapped his arms around my body, and the butterflies in my belly multiplied in number. His grip was gentle, his touch was tantalizing. I closed my eyes and breathed in his smell. Part cologne, part Halloween makeup.

He squeezed once and pulled away. Way, way too soon. I looked down at my feet before moving aside to let him all the way in.
Don’t be shy, Grace.

“So, are you excited about tonight?” he asked as he sat down on the couch.

“Yeah, I’m super excited. It’s going to be fun.”

“Is your mom here?”

My nerves were suddenly worse. It had just hit me that we were alone. “Um…no, she had a work thing this weekend.” I couldn’t look straight at him. Instead, I headed into the kitchen to get him a bottle of water.

When I walked back into the living room, he was at the mantle looking at the photo frames. “You were super cute when you were little.”

“When I was little?”

He turned around and smiled. “Well of course you are cute now. You are more than cute, Grace.”

My face flushed and I handed him the water. He took it with one hand, bringing the other to my face. He traced his thumb over the prosthetic on my cheek. It was soft and slippery from the fake blood.

“This makeup is pretty BA. Where did you learn to do this?”

“Well, I kind of study it.”

Confusion crossed his face. “Study it?”

“Yeah. Listen, if you don’t know by now that I am kind of a geek, well…I guess you are in for a surprise.”

Now there was amusement in his eyes. “Tell me. What do you study?”

I turned around and flopped on the couch with a big sigh. Tristen followed, flopping down really close.

“
Well, I’m sort of obsessed with horror movies. Zombies mostly. And I study the movies. I study the work of makeup artists so that I can mimic how they give an actor the realistic qualities and characteristics of a reanimated human.”

“So…you copy them,” Tristen stated.

My reflexes got the best of me and I smacked his chest. “No! I don’t
copy
them! I simply study their work. I pay attention to every little detail. I take notes in my mind.”

“That is awesome Grace. I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You didn’t, huh?”

“No. I think that’s great that you learn from things visually like that. Do you practice doing it,” he asked, seeming to be very curious.

“Well, I draw things. How I would like to do the makeup. But I only get to practice putting it on at Halloween,” I explained.

“Is that what you wanna do when you grow up?”

Humph. I never actually thought about that. It really wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could picture myself on the set of a zombie thriller applying makeup to an actor. “Well, yeah. I do actually.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You are one of a kind Grace Elizabeth Watkins.”

My face flushed as I glanced down at my fidgeting fingers. His fingers moved in, softly resting on mine to stop them. I looked up into his hazel eyes.

“You don’t have to be shy about it. You are. I can’t place it Grace. There’s something really different about you.”

“In a good way or bad?” I asked. Chances were that he wasn’t going to say in a bad way. It was one of those moments where you just had to hear the answer for validation.

He smiled a crooked smile and tilted his head. “That’s exactly it. You’re confident, but not too confident. Some other girl would have said something like ‘I know.’ ”

I smiled at his attempt at a squeaky, girly voice. “Someone like Sonny?”

He exhaled and I could feel his grip loosen. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that.

“Yeah, exactly. You’re kind of a breath of fresh air.”

No one has ever told me that before. A breath of fresh air. I liked it.

The moment grew silent and we stared at each other. It wasn’t an uncomfortable awkward moment or one of those moments where you were trying to figure out how to break it. It was…sweet…calm…a moment that I didn’t want to end. I could stare into his hazel eyes all nig—

Ding Dong

Damn it.

We both smiled before I got up and headed for the door.

I thought I opened the door to the planet Kryptonite.

“Hey Hey Hey!”

Tristen stood up to greet Superman and Wonder Woman. To be honest, it was actually quite suitable. Eric was a fantastic Clark Kent with his size and one black curl on his forehead. And Phoebe…well let’s just say her top half was certainly a wonder. She filled out that costume in more ways than Wonder Woman could.

“Wow! You guys look amazing! Like the real deal!”

“Thanks! And you two look awesome! G, you guys so match,” she said with a wink. I laughed nervously, hoping Tristen didn’t catch that. I was sure he knew how I felt about him, but I didn’t want him to know that he was the topic of most of Phoebe and I’s conversations.

I gestured the two members of the Justice League in and we stood around the living room.