Grace

Had breakfast\lunch with the besties today! made for a wonderful morning. Had a great time last night with aaron at the after party of A1S1 too. Other than my crushing debt and scary lack of a future I'm pretty happy.

So. The show went super well. better than i expected, to be frank, not that I thought it would be a disaster, but it went even more smoothly than I had anticipated, which is nice for a director. My kids were awesomesauce, an expression that they have now affectionately adopted. D&A say we have to work in 'lamesauce' now. I think i'll drop that tonight.

So happy saturday, and may I say I'm super-pleased to introduce you to a side charcter that i like alot, and that I hope you'll be seeing more of in the near future.

This is Grace Bennett Sinclair. You've seen her mentioned a few times. She's Ben Sinclair's mother (Ben is marrying Avalon Delaney), she's Sam & Marty Bennett's sister (you saw those folks at POKER NIGHT), She's doc Bennett's daughter (The doc's name comes up here and there), plus she's the girl Jonah dated in high school.

So she's all kinds of interwoven on the periphery.

This vignette takes place back in the day, right around the Velvet & Jonah origin story.

Enjoy!

*****************

Grace Bennett Sinclair stood on the brick stoop and hesitated just a moment more before rapping decisively on the wide yellow door of Jonah Delaney's townhouse.  It had been just over two weeks since the scandalous incident at the Calder-Grey reception, and the town was buzzing like a maddened hornet's nest about who had done what to whom and how a perfectly lovely afternoon had devolved into such a fiasco.  There had been a pair of dueling heiresses, something to do with a hot tub, a temporarily stolen Porsche, and somehow, defying all rational thought, Jonah Delaney's name had been dragged into it all.

Wholesome Jonah Delaney.  The elementary school teacher.  The kindest, sweetest man Grace had ever known.  The same Jonah Delaney who had been known to actually help old ladies across the street and who had once quite literally rescued a little girl's kitten from where it was stuck in a tree; who tutored on weekends and volunteered twice a week at the hospital, who'd been voted 'Best All-Around' (along with Best Eyes) in their high school year book.  That Jonah Delaney.  With the strong moral compass and the upright values and the smile that was apple-pie and vanilla ice-cream.

Her Jonah Delaney.  Her friend since childhood.  The man she'd grown up believing she would marry.  The man she still counted on as a confidant, and better than a brother.  The man she still cared about and would do most anything for-- was in a great deal of hot water, and each rumor Grace heard sounded more far-fetched than the one before.

He'd stopped answering the phone, and though she'd left several concerned messages on the answering machine, he'd yet to call her back.  And she was worried.

He'd hardly been seen around town, they said, and the same went for the very young and very pregnant Mrs. Grey.  Grace's brother Marty told her that poor Nolan was being hounded relentlessly by people trying to pump him for details, and, Grace sighed, the guy had been fired from his winery job—ostensibly for whatever role he'd played in the Calder-Grey (and now apparently Delaney) debacle.

“Who is it?”  Came a stern voice from within.  The yellow door had no peephole.

“Jonah?”  She called tentatively.  She wasn't entirely certain that rigid voice had belonged to her mild-mannered friend.

“May I help you?”

She swallowed.  She guessed she knew why he hadn't simply swung the door open when she'd knocked—as was his bright, bouyant habit—and imagining Jonah afraid, or defensive, or closed-off made her feel constriction in her chest.

“It's me--”  She called.  “Grace.”

There was a breath, a beat, and Grace thought he might turn her away. 

“Are you alone?”  The voice sounded much more his own now and she let out a shaky breath.

“I am.”

Grace heard the unmistakeable sound of several locks being released.  This was Cedar Falls, for goodness' sake—one lock would normally be more than sufficient.  She shuddered to think about why the Delaney brothers had decided to install more.

The yellow door opened—not precisely slowly, but more cautiously than was comfortable.  Grace forced a smile.  “Can I come in?”

Jonah appeared perfectly fine, she was a little surprised to discover.  With the rumors swirling around town and then the 'who goes there' and the multiple deadbolts, she'd been expecting some bleary-eyed, whiskered, haggard looking soul to be peering out at her.  But her friend was standing tall and clean shaven and well groomed and looking perfectly handsome in his casual (but definitely ironed) button down shirt over a tee-shirt and jeans.

And he smiled at her.  “Gracie.”  He said, and opened his arms for an embrace. 

She answered his smile with one of her own, relief washing over her, warming her, and making her almost light-headed.  She moved into the hug, which necessarily had to be a little askew due to the enormous protrusion of her very pregnant belly, and squeezed him a little more fiercely than she'd wanted to.  He squeezed a pulse in return before dipping his head to place a friendly kiss on her cheek and then moving to close and re-lock the door.

Her cheek felt a little over-warm where he'd kissed it and she chided herself for enjoying the way his shirt had smelled, and the way her name had sounded on his lips. Nobody called her Gracie anymore.  Just Jonah.

When the last bolt had been slid into place he turned to her, his smile apologetic.  “I never returned your phone call.”  He said, looking guilty.

“You didn't.” She agreed.

“I'm so sorry--”

“I've been worried sick.”

He smiled gently.  “I'm an idiot, I'm sorry.  I've just been—well, things have been--”  He stopped.  And smiled.  And chuckled.  “Well I'm sure you must have some idea.”

“That's why I've been worried.”  She said, her eyebrows gathering together.  “What the hell is going on?”

He laughed, and then kissed her other cheek.  “Can I get you something to drink?  I have lemonade.”

He moved past her into the large open space of the townhouse.  Grace watched him heading for the fridge and then noticed there was something a little different about the place.  She wasn't able to quite put her finger on it.  Had they re-painted?  She didn't think so.  The furniture was slightly re-arranged, but it seemed like there was something else. 

“You have lemonade?”  She asked vaguely.  She loved the Delaney brothers with all her heart, but in the past if she'd stopped by unannounced the only option she'd have had for a beverage would have been wine or expired milk or tapwater.

“Mmmhmm, and oh, Iced Tea too.”  Jonah answered, peering into the fridge.  “'Are you hungry?  I was about to start lunch.”

Start lunch?  As in start making lunch?  As in more than a slapdash sandwich or a delivered pizza?  Grace looked around her as she moved toward the kitchen.  It looked like the Delaney townhouse, but it felt like she'd entered a pleasant version of the twilight zone.

“I never turn down food anymore.”  She said in response after she realized he was staring at her, politely waiting for her answer.

He chuckled appreciatively and pulled both the lemonade and the iced tea pitchers from the fridge and set them on the counter.  She thought the pitchers looked nicer than the ones the boys used for mixed drinks on poker nights or for parties.

“You look radiant, Gracie.”  He told her as he pulled a tall glass down from a cabinet. 

She didn't feel radiant, but the compliment made her smile.  “The glow is really just sweat.”  She said wryly.  “It's too damn hot out to be pregnant.” 

He chuckled again and then pointed to the lemonade.  She shook her head, knowing the lemonade would revisit in the form of brutal heartburn.  He picked up the iced tea pitcher and poured.

“It agrees with you.”  He said, moving around the island and handing her the cool refreshment.  “You've never looked happier.”  They locked eyes and though he was smiling she saw the deep sadness embedded within him.  “And so beautiful.”  He added.

She felt neither happy nor beautiful.  “Thank you.”  She said, for the iced tea and the heartfelt compliments.

He nodded with a wistful smile and moved to another glass that he'd evidently left on the counter before she'd arrived.

“Holden tells me it makes me seem older.”  She said with a short laugh. 

Jonah stiffened as he poured his own drink, and his face pulled into a serious expression.  “You're lovely.”  He responded with a vehemence that made her brows rise.

“He's just teasing.”  She said weakly.

Jonah grunted and didn't meet her eyes as he strode back to the fridge.

“Is that a new fridge?”  She asked, managing to catch just a glimpse of the nearly pristine inside before the door swung closed.

“Hm?”  Jonah glanced at her, then back to the refrigerator.  “Oh, yes.”  He chuckled once again and she heard and saw some of the tension that had stolen over him at the mention of her husband dissipate.  “Brand new.  Couple days ago.”

It was a Calder refrigerator.  The newest model.  Grace had been planning to re-model her own kitchen and had had her eye on this new Calder series. 

“Gracie--”  Jonah began and she started with “Jones--”

They met eyes and smiled.  He nodded, deferring.

She swallowed.  “Listen, I want you to know I'm here for you, no matter what, and I'm not trying to be nosy or butt-into your business, but people have been talking, and the rumors have been outrageous, and, God, Jones.”  She looked at him searchingly.  “I need to know if you're alright.”

He sighed.  “Gracie you are such a sweetheart.”  He told her affectionately.  “I'm fine.”  He assured her.  “Actually,”  He amended, gazing off into the distance dreamily.  “I'm better than fine.  I'm--”  He laughed and looked fairly giddy, but he didn't finish the thought, only lifted his iced tea and drank.

Grace looked around again.  It was cleaner.  That's what it was.  Not just tidy, but really cleaner. And there was a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table.  And there were scented candles.  Lemonade, pitchers, flowers, lunch?

“Oh my God.  Is she living with you?”

Jonah lowered his glass and his expression sobered a bit.  “She is.”

Grace blinked several times rapidly.  “God, Jonah.”  She wasn't quite sure how she felt.  “I refused to believe the rumors because I thought I knew you.”  She wasn't angry, not precisely.  Disappointed?

Jonah looked stern and she wondered if he gave that look to miscreant sixth graders.  “What, exactly, do you mean by that?”

She shook her head and stared at her tall glass of tea.  “I'd have bet my life against anyone who said you were a homewrecker.”  She said.

“Homewrecker?!”

“Don't bother sounding so aghast Jonah, she's a married woman!  You know better.”

Jonah began to say something but stopped himself and was quiet for a long moment.  She couldn't look at him.  She heard him take another gulp of iced tea and then place the glass carefully on the counter.  “Miss Calder found herself unable to remain in her home any longer.  Nolan and I offered her a place to stay.”  His voice was deadly calm.  He was angry, but he didn't want to get angry with her.

She clucked her tongue.  “Mrs. Grey--”  She countered pointedly, “is married and expecting another man's child.  What were you thinking getting involved with a married woman?”  She wasn't sure, but she thought she might be experiencing some form of jealousy.

Color rose on his cheeks.  “I met her about a minute before she discovered her husband in the hot-tub with that Aschere woman.”  Jonah said sharply.  “If anyone should be branded a homewrecker--”

“Wait, what?”

“Excuse me?”

“You met her, when?”

Jonah furrowed his brow and sighed.  “Just as she was walking out to the sundeck.  About a half minute before she went to see what the commotion was.”    He rested his knuckles on the countertop and rapped a few times lightly.  “It was pretty horrific.”

“So you weren't having an affair with her?”

Jonah's face twisted and she recognized that he was offended.  “Absolutely not.”

She snorted. “Don't act so righteous!” 

“I would never--”

“But you are!  Now. ”  She argued, cutting him off,  “Unless you mean to tell me you're bunking with Nolan and it's all perfectly innocent that a gorgeous seventeen year old is living in your house.”

Jonah opened his mouth but closed it with a snap.  “She's getting a divorce.”  He mumbled.

“Jesus.”

They were quiet.  She was relieved he hadn't been the slimy bastard rumor would have him be.  But she was almost more worried about him now.  “Has he come after you?”

Jonah moved to the fridge with a heavy sigh and she thought he was trying to hide his expression from her.  “Yes.”  He answered tersely.

Hence the extra locks.  She'd heard Vaughan Grey was a violent man.  “And?”

“And I dealt with it.”  He evaded.  “I'm making a stirfry.”  He said, “Will you stay for lunch?”

She stared at his back.  At the proud, defensive set of his shoulders.  And she felt a surge of love and compassion for the man.

“Is that ok?”  she asked quietly.

He turned his head fractionally.  “Why wouldn't it be?'

She smiled wanly.  Men.  “Your old high school sweetheart?  Here alone with you?  What will your new  houseguest think?”

Jonah turned slowly, his face a puzzle.  “You're my friend.”  He said simply. 

Grace shook her head pityingly.  “She's just found her husband sleeping with another woman.  I doubt she'll be enthusiastic about any female friends of yours for a while.”

Jonah looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head firmly.  “No.  I think she'll love you.”  He concluded.  Grace tried not to feel insulted that he didn’t believe she would be a threat to the perfect young heiress.  “And I think you'll really like her too, Gracie, she's so great.”  His eyes got far away and she raised her eyebrows.  He was definitely smitten.

Grace Sinclair had had to endure watching Jonah Delaney choose one bad mistake after another for years.  Girls that were all wrong for him, girls that could never be worthy of him, girls that wound him around their little fingers and fooled around behind his back.  There was a time when she'd given him her honest opinion, but it threatened to ruin their friendship once, when he was particularly heartsick over this awful two-faced bitch named Candace who'd been just wretched to him, so since that debacle she'd vowed to hold her tongue and be there as a shoulder to cry on when his relationships inevitably fell apart.

She supposed she'd be doing that again in oh, say six months.  She wondered how Nolan felt about the heiress, and if he'd voiced his concerns or held his tongue.  He must have consented to letting the woman move-in, but that didn't necessarily mean he endorsed the relationship.  Nolan, like his brother, was chivalrous almost to a fault.  If the young woman was afraid of her husband and felt she had nowhere else to go (which was a ridiculous notion for someone as wealthy and adored as Velvet Calder Grey), then Nolan would likely insist she stay.  But Nolan was considerably more level-headed than his older brother, and Grace thought it was very likely that the young man was feeling cautious and considerably less smitten of the heiress than the hopeless romantic with the new-found cooking skills over there was.

“Is she here now?”  Grace asked suddenly, looking around, half expecting to be ambushed.

Jonah pulled a fairly new looking wok out from a lower cabinet and set it on the stovetop.  He was really going to do a stir fry.  Who the hell was this man?  In two weeks he’d become a capable chef?

“No, she’s stepped out for a bit.  I expect her back around one.”  He answered, moving toward the refrigerator again.

Grace watched her friend pull fresh produce from a large temperature controlled crisper and had the urge to pinch herself.  Instead she stood, crossed around behind the island and pulled a small cutting board from a drawer.  She’d been to the townhouse often enough to know her way around the kitchen.  She often served the guys on poker nights, and she’d cut up enough limes to know where the cutting boards were kept.

Jonah grinned at her and handed her a bright orange bell pepper.  “You don’t mind?”

She’d chopped the top off it before he’d even finished the question.  She couldn’t just sit while someone prepared food.  And for some reason today she felt a particular compulsion to make herself busy.  She waved a hand dismissively and set to work on the pepper while he moved to rinse some snap peas.

“So, you going to tell me what happened, or shall I continue to get my information second-hand?”

Jonah set the colander of snap peas down in the deep sink and moved to peel the carrots.  “What have you heard, exactly?”  The swish-tick of peeling carrots seemed to make all the drama of the last two weeks farcical.  The domesticity of Chef Jonah warred with the Cassanova Jonah of rumor and gossip.

She rolled her eyes.  She’d heard enough craziness to fill a soap opera.  “Well Holden was up there.”  She began, and Jonah’s swift peeling rhythm stuttered.  “For a lot of it.  He said he saw the two in the hot-tub and then saw Mrs. Grey go out in that direction, and when she started screaming he came to find me.”

Jonah pushed his glasses up his nose and resumed vigorously peeling the carrot he was holding.  “mmmhmmm.”  He replied.

Grace finished the pepper and reached for its’ companion, a fat green one.  “He said he saw you up there.”  She added.  Jonah didn’t comment, but traded the peeled carrot for another and set to work again.

“Did you see him?  Up there?  I never made it up to the third floor.  What the hell was it like up there?  I mean, how do two people expect to get away with fooling around in broad daylight on a sundeck with a house full of guests?”

Grace heard Jonah draw a long, deep breath and let it our through tight lips.  “I’m glad you never made it to that floor.”  He responded with an ominous tone.

She lifted an eyebrow and sliced the pepper carefully.  “What were you doing up there?”  She asked.  The rumor had it that he was up in Mrs. Grey’s bedroom for a stolen rendezvous with the woman when they stumbled upon her husband already engaged in such a scenario with the Aschere heiress.

“Looking for Nolan.”  He answered, and Grace knew him well enough to recognize that there wasn’t a hint of deception behind that answer.

“And what was Mrs. Grey doing up there?”  She asked, finishing the green pepper and casting her eyes around for what else she could cut up.  He slid the pair of large, peeled carrots toward her and grabbed a carton of mushrooms. 

“I think she’d gone looking for her groom because he’d been absent from the party for some time.”  Jonah’s tone was almost clinical it was so polite and distant. 

Grace pursed her lips and stared at the carrot.  She always had trouble deciding how best to slice a carrot.  Were rounds better for a stir-fry, or would slim julienne cuts work better?  “And what was Holden doing up there?”  She asked quietly, her knife poised above the carrot, still undecided as to which way to slice.

“A lot happened very quickly just after I arrived up there—I mean, I wasn’t up there five minutes before Velvet got there and all hell broke loose.”  Ah.  There was the deception.  Jonah Delaney was not a good liar.

“Do you know who she was?  Who Holden was with, I mean?”  She asked quietly, setting the knife down and staring at the vibrant wet-orange of the carrot.

The townhouse was quiet, save for the sound of the air-conditioning running at full capacity.  Jonah lowered his own knife to the counter and moved slowly toward her.  “Grace?”

She pressed her lips together and glanced up.  Damn him for being so goddamn perfect.  And considerate.  And compassionate.  And goddamn the hormones that threatened to cause her to make a fool of herself.  “I know.”  She said with a small shrug and a brave attempt at a smile.  “I’ve known for a while.”

Her friend looked pained, and pitying, and angry, and very saddened.  “I didn’t.”

She laughed shortly.  Of course he didn’t.  He was her best friend, but how could she go to him with the news that the man she’d married instead of him was a philanderer?  And at least for the most part her husband was a great deal more discreet than Vaughan Grey.  “No lectures.”  She said in a gentle warning, and watched his eyes narrow and his lips tighten.

“But—“

“No.”  She shook her head.  She really could not do this right then.  “Let me deal with it in my own way.”

Jonah looked at the ceiling, adjusted his glasses and then pulled her into a hug without warning.  “You deserve better than that.”  He impressed, his tone almost pleading.

She felt embarrassed to be in the hug but didn’t push away.  “It’s complicated.”  She excused vaguely.

“No, it isn’t.”  Jonah argued firmly.  “It’s simple.  You deserve better.”

“I haven’t been, well, I haven’t been especially in-the-mood much lately and—“

Jonah put her at arm’s length and shook her just slightly.  “Grace, listen to yourself!”  He barked, his expression stormy, his fingers fierce around her upper arms.  “That is no excuse.  None at all.”  His violet eyes searched her hazel ones desperately.

She wondered if he’d said these things to Velvet Calder Grey.  She laughed weakly because if she didn’t laugh she knew she’d cry, and Grace hated crying.  Avoided it whenever humanly possible.  “Not everyone can be as perfect as you.”  She teased.  “Most people are fallible.”

“Would you do it to him?”  Jonah looked faintly furious, despite what was a valiant effort at looking calm.

Grace sighed.  She’d expected this. “I love him.”  She was aware that she sounded pathetic.  But she owed Jonah the truth.  He was never anything but completely honest with her.  “And I know he loves me—“

“For God’s sake—“

“No, he does, Jones, he does.  And we’re having a baby.”  She pleaded with her tone and her eyes both.  “What am I supposed to do?  Throw everything away?” 

The incredulous expression on Jonah’s face was answer enough.  Yes.  He believed that was the only appropriate course of action.  He released her arms and stepped back, shaking his head. 

Grace reached for the carton of mushrooms and fought the plastic open.  She’d let him worry about the damned carrots.  Of course she’d considered divorce.  She was human, wasn’t she?  Of course she’d considered confronting him and making a big deal of it and all that.  She had her pride.  But thinking about life as a divorcee with an infant child made her break into cold sweats.  Thinking about how her father and mother would respond made gooseflesh rise all over her body.  And after their enormous wedding.  After saying vows and making promises before God and the whole town. 

“You still don’t feel worthy of him.”  Jonah concluded shrewdly.

She shrugged.  “He could have chosen anyone.  Anyone Jones.”  But Holden Sinclair, the handsome, wealthy, popular, Cedar Falls darling;  the young owner of the very successful Sinclair Windows & Doors company, who could have handpicked his bride, had chosen her. Had wooed and worked for and won her.

“So Goddamn ridiculous.”  Jonah muttered.  “He’s the one who isn’t worthy.  He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

They were quiet for a minute.  She sliced up several mushrooms and he pulled out some condiments and set about trying to concoct a sauce.  But he was clumsy.  And short-tempered now.

“You’re a good friend.”  She said after he’d poured a healthy measure of soysauce into a smallish mixing bowl.

“I hope you don’t let that child grow up like him.”  Jonah snapped, twisting the cover back onto the soysauce with more torque than was necessary.

She winced.  Her heart twisted a little to think about her unborn son as a whole person someday.  And her careful slicing slowed to a stop as she realized she hoped her son would grow up to be like Jonah.  She placed the knife on the countertop and moved to sit on a kitchen stool. 

“I’m sorry—“  He said, pausing in the act of whisking, and watching her with a mixture of guilt and concern.

 She felt disloyal and confused and frustrated.

“No you aren’t.”  She laughed.  “You say what you mean. That’s why I like you.”

He frowned.  “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Oh.  Well, yes, that was likely true. “Do you ever think about it?”  She asked quietly.  “About?  It?” She was breaking a cardinal rule.  An unspoken pact between them.  She was bringing it up.  It had been on her mind more and more lately as her pregnancy transitioned into the later stages of development.  As she got closer and closer to becoming a mother.

He was quiet.  He searched her face for a long moment.  “Yes.”  He answered simply.  He knew exactly what she was referring to.

She nodded.  There had been a few years in there when she’d more or less managed to forget it.  Or ignore it.  It had been the right decision and she wouldn’t change anything, but still.  “Why’d we break up again?”  She asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“College.”  He answered stoically.

She considered this for a moment. “Nah.  It was the sex.” She said with half a chuckle.

Jonah adjusted his glasses in that same way he’d always done it, since the first grade, sighed, and leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his front.  “Yeah.  Sorry about that.”  He said.

She chuckled.  “You were scared.  Who could blame you?  I was terrified too.”  She thought about how ‘gun-shy’ they’d been after.  How their once insatiable physical relationship had cooled, how cuddling had replaced lovemaking, and how over the course of several months they’d grown closer but simultaneously evolved into a new species of relationship.  They’d become best friends.  Passionate but platonic.  Adoring but a-sexual.  It had been her idea to see other people.  To ‘take a break’ that had tacitly but mutually signified an end to what might otherwise have been the inevitable road to engagement and marriage.

He made a sound that might pass for a weak laugh.  “Took me a long time to, um, get over that.”

She knew that.  It had taken her even longer.  “I made Holden wait forever.”  She laughed nostalgically.

Jonah made a grunting noise that sounded like a non-verbal approval, and she smiled. 

“We’d have a five year old.”  She marveled. 

Jonah’s mouth pulled to the side and he nodded at the floor. “A kindergartener.”  He agreed, his voice soft and faintly whimsical.

He’d be a great father.  She felt guilty everytime she saw him around his students, or up at the hospital where he read to and played board games with the kids in the pediatric wing.  Guilty because he’d been willing to keep it.  She’d made the final call.  And despite how supportive and understanding he’d been, she always sensed that beneath the immediate relief there’d been a measure of regret.

“So, are you in love?”  She asked, quite suddenly unwilling to wallow for another moment.

Private Student Loans are the Devil.

So when you're in the thick of it, when you're in the trenches, trying to get your degree complete and get on with your life,you are willing to sign your life away in order to get to tht finish line, because, well, what the hell do you do with a half-finished degree? nothing, nada, zip.

so the devil comes along with his fiddle and his scroll and his frilly feather pen, and with that smarmy smile says: here, no need to fret little idiot, I can help!

and you, being stressed and feeling pressure and being impatient and ignorant, you nod and say 'that sounds fair' and you sign your name and co-sign the names of relatives to this form, and poof! He receeds into the ether, you proceed with your little life and then, inevitably, you run into trouble.

Because things never never never go how you plan. how you expect. how you need them to go.

And so you're unemployed. and have almost no prospects of getting employed, or at least not employed how you'd have to be in order to start paying back all the devils you promised your soul to.

And so they call. and e-mail. and call. and send you letter after letter, and call and email and then they ruin your life.

And there is absolutely no way out of it. Short of the miracle of getting a good paying job or winning the lottery or a pestilence wiping out all records of your foolish bargain. You try to tell them that the money just isn't there, that the minimum they propose is ludacris, but the laugh maniacally--well no, they speak in a bored, monotonous, completely dispassionate southern twang--and tell you that with private student loans no further options are available.

and then the words "past due" "keep current" "default" and "credit bureau" swirl around in fire and brimstone and smoke and mirrors and it really is enough to make you want to throw in the towel. for real. like tub and razor stuff.

Because that shit effects everything. Like ever having a prayer of buying a house. And starting a family. and living the life you dreamt of-- not an exorbitant life, nothing extravagant, just a modest home with a family and a secure job.

and that is a tale of woe told by the moron that ignored the very real warning signs and sound advice from people who knew better. It isn't something that should evoke pity or empathy, it just is. It's just a cautionary tale, maybe, to avoid being a moron with more dreams than sense.

And also, just for the record, /i realize that the common wisdom is to do what you love, but when what you love is completely un-bankable, maybe don't do that and opt for something practical instead. i mean really? a drama teacher? I had thought that this might be slightly more employable than just an actor, but it is starting to look like NAY, it is just about as useless a thing to be in our society.

Incidentally the 'message' of this year's act-one-scene-one show is about the intrinsic value of art and artists to society. And I'm not convinced. /in the end the grasshopper wins his court case, wins half of the ants' harvest and also respect. And I just shake my head and think 'bullshit.'

Some dreamer I turned out to be. some artist.

I'm thinking very seriously about asking danielle how, exactly, to get into the insurance business.

Yeah, heavy sigh and furrowed brow, but true story.

The Calder-Grey Celebration

Tonight is opening night of A1S1!! But in order to get to that we need to survive the extended morning rehearsal and also an early call to run it one more time before show time. Oh yeah. It has been one of those years. It is a bit, just a bit, of a shitshow this week.

But, even though my group isn't the best (and I really am trying to be OK with this, trying not to feel competitive about this, trying to not boil over about it), so even though they aren't the best, they have done some great work, they have come leaps and bounds, and I do believe that I will be bursting with pride by the curtain call this evening. I'm already very proud of what they've done.

I still kinda wish we were the best. knock-your-socks-off good, you know? whatevs.

K, so: you've seen it one way (in two parts), and you've seen it another, now here's a look at that infamous party from our very own Mr. Jonah Delaney-- young and starry eyed and in the right\wrong place at the right\wrong time.

Also you get kinda introduced to some other characters- ooooh, exciting!

Now i know I've said this before but for some reason with this one I really must reiterate that all the cedar falls shorts (as D calls them, making them sound very art-house and legit! lol), are far from perfect. I like so much of this one but recognize that it needs some serious revision. HOWEVER! I've been sitting on it for like weeks and weeks and really just want to get it out there already!!

I hope you like the parts i like and just brush over the rough stuff.

Oh, and wish me "break a leg"!!

PS- there was a big mistake in the one i posted a minute ago, so if you still have that in an email or whatever, disregard and read the one /i'm posting now.  just a continuity mistake, but it would have fucked me in the asshole for one of the next things I'm going to post so.... yeah.

************************

There were so many people, so many attendees, Jonah wondered why they hadn’t held the reception at the pavillion instead of at the house.  Looking around he guessed the legendary Vaughan Grey had wanted to showcase his designer home, wanted his guests to see the many awards and magazine covers and trophies and framed photographs, wanted them to marvel at his expensive furnishings and rare collectibles and exotic memorabilia.  Jonah decided the man who lived here must be one arrogant, conceited, egotistical, ass.

With a shrug he accepted a glass of wine from a pretty young cater-waitress carrying a tray of sparkling wines.  He recognized the logo on her shirt.  “Hey, Hi, Nolan working?”  He asked her with a warm smile.  She returned the smile in a way that told Jonah this girl had a crush on his brother. 

“Yeah, he’s here…”  She glanced around hopelessly.  She was too short to see much in the crush of guests.  “Somewhere!”  She said with a laugh.

He laughed with her.  He was much taller than she was so he scanned the crowd, able to see above most people’s heads.  “Thanks—I’m sure I’ll find him sooner or later.”  He said.

“Yeah, He’s got Reds I think.”  She said helpfully.  “If you find him, tell him I said ‘Hi’!” and then with a sweet smile moved away, offering her drinks to other guests.

Jonah chuckled.  He’d be sure and do that.  She seemed sweet.  Scanning the crowd his eyes fell upon a familiar pair of faces at the far end of the room, just by the open French doors that led to the back patio.  Her face looked pleasant, if a bit strained, and his?  His face was a glowering, irritable grimace.  Jonah laughed to himself and tossed back some of his wine before navigating his way politely through the throng toward his parents.

He saw several co-workers and nodded warmly, sometimes stopped to exchange a few words, he saw the superintendant but couldn’t get close enough to do more than smile and wave, and finally he made his way to his mother’s side.  She was in the middle of a conversation about a charity auction that was being planned for the fall at the historic society.  When she saw him her eyes crinkled at the corners in acknowledgement, but she didn’t interrupt her dialogue with Mrs. Eisen.

He would wait.  Instead he turned to his father and smiled winningly at the man’s obvious discomfort.  “Hi Pops.”  He said, patting his father soundly on the back.

“Jonah.”  Nodded his father in a grim greeting.

“You look like you’re having a blast.”  Jonah tried not to smile quite so largely but he wasn’t managing too well.  It was always thoroughly entertaining to see his normally mild-mannered father so uptight and surly.  The man hated crowds and social events, but his wife, well, his wife was a social creature by nature and he endured these events to please her. 

“I met the groom.”  He said, looking for all the world as thought caused a sour taste in his mouth.

Jonah glanced around.  He’d not had the pleasure of meeting his host or the young Calder bride yet.  He’d seen them both around town, knew who they were, but hadn’t met them today.  “Nice fellow?”  Jonah asked wryly, catching sight of a life-sized framed poster of the man in full swing on the green.  He rolled his eyes.  He didn’t need to meet the man to know he wouldn’t care for him.

“A prince.”  Said his father dourly.  “More bourbon in his veins than blood I think.”  He confided in a low voice.

Jonah chuckled.  His mother was kissing Mrs. Eisen on the cheek and promising to call with ‘that information’ sometime tomorrow.  Jonah nodded politely to Mrs. Eisen as she departed and then turned to his mother.  She cocked her head and smiled at him.  “What in hell are you doing at a thing like this?”  she asked with a laugh. 

He grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek.  “You look lovely Ma.”  He said affectionately.

She shook her head.  “No, no, no, flattery will get you nowhere.”  She placed one hand gracefully on her hip and with the other she took a sip of dark wine.  “What made you decide to come?”

He looked around at the crowd.  He didn’t want to tell her the real reason.  “Nolan’s here.”  He offered.

She raised a skeptical brow and opened her mouth to retort but her husband cut her off “Oh leave the boy alone Evelyn, he’s here for the same reason all the rest of these fools are here.”  He lifted a highball glass to his lips and took a mouthful of whatever mixed drink he’d procured.

She sent her husband a rather chilly look before fixing her gaze back on her son.  “Is that why you’re here?”  She asked archly, “To see and be seen?”

He chuckled.  “Maybe.”  He said evasively.  Really he was in attendance in the hopes of meeting someone.  He hadn’t been on a date in months and Nolan had been urging him to get back in the saddle, to play the field again.

“Nobody can see anybody in this crush.”  Said his father grumpily.

“We’re not staying too much longer.”  His mother sighed.  “I just want to see Mrs. Calder before we go, thank her for the invite.”

“Sebastian Calder must be spinning in his grave.”  Jonah’s father commented dourly.

Jonah laughed, but his mother looked stern.  “Ethan Delaney, don’t pretend for a second that Sebastian Calder was some kind of upright saint.”  She hissed.  “He gave that woman years of nothing but infidelity and in the end he died in the arms of a whore, so I don’t think he’d have a leg to stand on here.”

Jonah was surprised by his mother’s sudden vehemence.  Outwardly she remained composed and graceful but the heat that sizzled under her fierce whisper took him aback.

“The man’s sins aside, Evelyn, no father wants to see his teenage daughter married off to some middle-aged lothario.”

She tisked.  “I think he’d rather see her married than become an unwed teen mother, don’t you?”

Jonah groaned.  “Mr. and Mrs. Delaney, please!”  He smiled at them.  They bickered; it’s what they did.  Jonah knew they loved eachother very much but knew they weren’t happy unless they were arguing about something or other.  Usually one of them would play the devil’s advocate on some issue just to drum up conflict.  It was their peculiar little hobby and it was mostly harmless, but with so many ears around…

“I’m just glad I don’t have daughters, with that jackal prowling around town.” Groused his father.

“Ethan!  Don’t stand there drinking the man’s liquor and backbiting, for God’s sake, he’s our host!”

Jonah smiled an over-large smile.  “Have a good time you two.”  He enthused.  “If I don’t see you before I leave, I’ll be over for Sunday dinner as usual.”  He delivered another peck to his mother’s cheek, clasped his father’s hand in a brief shake and set off toward the less-cramped but very hot and sunny back yard.

He didn’t see Nolan anywhere.  He met up with the Bennett brothers for a short time, Sam had his eye on some pretty young thing and Marty was enjoying the mingling.  Then he chatted with their sister Grace for a while—they’d dated in high school and were still able to chat like old friends.  She was married to Holden Sinclair now, who she said was in attendance but who the hell knew where?  She looked contented and radiant; and almost ready to pop—her due date was less than a month away. 

He was a little in awe of how many important Cedar Falls families and politicians and business people were in attendance.  But, he supposed the sole heiress to the Calder fortune was a bit of a celebrity around these parts, and so, he supposed, was the play-boy golf pro she had married.

After a while he decided he’d probably burn terribly if he stayed out in the sun too long and with some reservations he headed back toward the cool of the house.  He mingled with old friends from school, chatted with bigwigs from the central schools office, and flirted with one or two nice-looking girls, but he wasn’t having a terribly great time.  And he still hadn’t found Nolan.  Where the hell was his brother?  He’d seen about a dozen other cater-waiters, from various vendors, even a few from the winery, but he’d yet to spot Nolan among the crowd.

He decided to make one complete sweep of the house before giving up and getting the hell out of there.  He hadn’t met anyone that he’d been overly attracted to, and while he realized he might have a shot with one or two ladies here, he didn’t feel all that inclined to put out the effort.  He was trying, but he didn’t think he was all that ready to be playing the field again.

He settled on a trickle-down plan of attack.  He’d start on the top floor, where he’d heard there was a sundeck, and work his way back down.

Jonah kept his eyes peeled on his way up, but by the time he was mounting the stairs to the third floor he still hadn’t seen any sign of his brother.  He’d seen Nolan’s good friend Len across a large, crowded room and waved enthusiastically, but he didn’t bother trying to cross the sea of mingling guests to get to him.  Maybe he’d catch him on the way down.

The minute he stepped onto the third floor landing Jonah got an uneasy feeling across the back of his neck.  The atmosphere up here was different, somehow, and his gut reacted to it instinctively.  The tone in people’s voices was different.  There seemed to be more couples kissing and groping and fondling up here.  He felt forcibly reminded of a college frat house party, but something felt more slick, even, more deliberate and sinister about the air up here.

This was supposed to be a wedding reception—what the hell was going on up here?  It was the middle of the day, for God's sake. 

He almost turned around.  He hoped he wouldn’t find Nolan up here, hoped he didn’t stumble upon his brother embroiled in some steamy orgy.  Not that he’d begrudge his brother the action, he just didn’t need to see it. 

He moved quietly, almost crept, through a very large and impressive master bedroom suite, toward the sound of voices and laughter and the light of the sundeck.  He wouldn’t stay long, he didn’t feel comfortable up here, he’d just take a look and see if Nolan had been stationed up here.  He felt as if he were trespassing in the penthouse or something, like he’d sneaked onto the bunny ranch without credentials.

There was low murmuring and deep, provocative laughter.  If Jonah were an animal he believed his hackles might be up.  He stalked carefully over to the wide open French doors and observed the salacious glances some folks were casting to their left, watched the avid interest of others who didn’t bother concealing their open fascination.  The men and women up here wore the same expressions he’d seen on men in a strip club—appraising, slightly aroused, captivated, hungry—all under the guise of being perfectly neutral and blasé about it. 

He inched out onto the sundeck, slowly scanning the dozen or more faces and feeling very relieved that his brother was not among them.  And, taking a breath, he made the decision to see whatever it was that was so captivating to these people.  He noted the Deputy Superintendant of Schools among the crowd and frowned.  He saw a few other familiar faces and felt even more uncomfortable.

And finally he turned his head in the direction of the hot-tub.  Jonah felt an outbreak of tiny hot and cold pinpricks from head to toe.  He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and had trouble looking at the spectacle.  There were two people performing very graphic carnal acts in the swirling water, completely nude and unconcerned with the lookers on; no, Jonah thought, not unconcerned; they were enjoying the audience.

After blinking and staring at the deck floor for a few moments he made himself look again, see who they were.  He knew he’d be asked later and knew he’d have to give details to his friends when they heard about this insanity.  This wouldn’t have happened at the pavilion, Jonah thought wryly.

He was looking at the man’s nondescript back and bare ass but when he moved his head down to capture the woman’s nipple in his mouth Jonah’s jaw fell open.  He recognized the son of a bitch from all the framed photographs and magazine covers below.  This was their host, this was the man of the hour, this was Vaughan Grey, husband, and father-to-be.

Jonah snorted in disbelief.  Then he craned his neck to have a better look at the female;  maybe his gut instinct was wrong, maybe Vaughan Grey was up here fucking his new bride for all to see, maybe the young heiress was an exhibitionist and got-off on fucking her much-older husband in broad daylight before an audience of Cedar Falls socialites.

He felt like a pervert, straining for a better view and he knew he was flushing from his scalp to his toes, but he just had to know.  He saw dark hair and knew the heiress to have dark hair, he saw a lot of flesh and heard a great deal of throaty moaning and whimpering and he was distinctly disturbed to notice a man beside him begin to rub himself through his dress pants.  Holy God, Jonah just wanted to answer the question of who that woman was in the hottub and get the hell out of there.

He moved further onto the deck and caught sight of Holden Sinclair nuzzling a young woman who was not Grace and looked away sharply.  He didn’t want to see this side of Cedar Falls, didn’t want to know it.  He was damn glad Nolan wasn’t up here.  And he hoped his parents had left long ago.

Suddenly the woman lifted her head and seemed to look right at Jonah.  Her silver-gray eyes seemed to cut right into him and he was breathless for a moment.  Sopping wet and getting vigorously fucked she still seemed perfectly stunning and not the least bit ruffled.  She was amazing and he felt a heat slide down his front as she looked at him.  She dragged her tongue over her top lip and he shuddered.  She laughed throatily and threw her head back once more, enjoying the rhythm with which her partner was moving into her, and Jonah felt cold all over.

This was an heiress alright, but not the right heiress.  That bastard was fucking another woman at his goddamned wedding celebration, and not even bothering with the slightest discretion.  Feeling almost nauseated Jonah moved quickly and determinedly for the exit.  Fuck finding Nolan, he was leaving and he’d catch up with his brother later.  He didn’t want to be at that residence a minute longer than he had to be.

He pushed past a man he knew from the gym and squeezed past two wealthy cougars who boldly pawed and pulled at him.  He was shivering despite the heat of the summer sun and making all haste to get to the landing when he nearly bowled over a petite little thing on her way toward the sundeck.

They had a moment of trying to step around one another where he’d move to his left but she’d move the same way, and then they’d both move to the other side.  After several attempts the young woman giggled lightly and the sound helped to dispel Jonah’s chill.  He finally stopped his politely awkward missteps and looked at her fully.  She was beautiful.  She was smiling up at him, impossibly large pale green eyes framed by long dark lashes above high pink cheeks and the sweetest cupid’s bow mouth he’d ever seen.  She had dark hair swept over her flawless alabaster forehead and behind her slight shoulders. 

She was perfect.  And she was heavily pregnant.  And his mouth fell open with the realization of who she must be.

“Excuse me!”  The young woman said, laughing a little. 

“Mrs. Grey—“  Jonah began, his heart thudding in his ears.

She smiled and looked ready to make an introduction but then a sound caught her ears and the smile faded.  It was an intimate, erotic sound and there was no mistaking it really.  The woman on the sundeck was beginning the slow wind-up toward orgasm and she wasn’t shy about letting everyone know it.  Jonah’s ears burned and the back of his neck was tingling discomfitingly. 

“Will you excuse me?”  She said softly, her face transforming from carefree and joyful to one of concern and a sort of disbelieving dread. 

He stepped in front of her again and she looked startled and a shade irritated.  “Mrs. Grey, won’t you come with me downstairs?”

She spared him half a glance and moved to get around him in the other direction.  “Excuse me.”  She said again, her voice vague and thin.

Jonah didn’t know where the impulse came from but he knew he needed to stop her, prevent her from seeing what her husband was doing to her.  He took a few steps backward and moved into her path again.  She pulled up short and wore an expression of dismay.  With one small hand she held her very round belly and with the other she fingered an attractive diamond necklace at her throat.  “What’s going on out there?”  She asked him, a nervous whine entering her tone.

Jonah looked at her.  She was still so young.  So innocent.  He wanted to whisk her away from the seedy scene behind him on the sundeck, felt the strongest urge to save her from the awful, sordid truth out there.  But before he could speak they both heard her husband’s voice urging his lover toward climax and grunting.  The murmuring of the small, watching crowd became more fevered, and the young heiress’ face pulled into one of near-terror and she shook her head but moved around Jonah, as if compelled by some divine force, and onto the sundeck. 

He hadn’t the power to stop her, he’d tried but she was determined to see for herself, to witness the act of betrayal she’d already guessed at.  The crowd parted for her soundlessly, not a word of warning to her or to the pair in the hot tub.  Jonah hesitated a moment on the threshold of those double doors, debated with himself as to whether or not he should get mixed up in what was about to go down, but then the girl screamed, and the sound clenched around his heart like a fist, and the decision was no longer his to make.

He flew to her side as she raged at her husband.  He wanted to be there, beside her, though he knew it wasn’t really his place.  He glanced around at their audience and recognized that this girl didn’t have a single friend up there.  Except for him.  He would be in her corner.

The bastard in the hot tub didn’t have the decency to look embarrassed, or even apologetic.  On the contrary, he looked put-out that he’d been interrupted.  Jonah wanted to punch the filthy son of a bitch. 

The man exchanged some words with his young wife and seemed entirely unconcerned with her fury and humiliation as he stepped, completely nude, from the hottub.  The man was vile.  Jonah watched with disgust as he reached to help the silver eyed seductress out of the hot-tub, apologizing to her, but not his wife.  And then suddenly the petite little thing was lunging for the Golf-pro. 

Jonah was momentarily stunned.  She threw herself on him with everything she had, she bit, she clawed, she kicked and slapped and Jonah had to force himself to move through his stunned immobility.  He was sure he pulled her off the man not a second too soon.  Vaughan Grey looked like a man who might not hesitate to throw a pregnant woman to the ground.

Jonah held her, supported her weight as she sank to her knees before the hot tub.  She screamed and swore and made dire threats and she was sobbing and gasping for air and she was in such misery, such torment.  Jonah wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and make it all go away.  He had a powerful urge to defend the young woman’s honor by attacking the man himself, but she was so hysterical he feared she might do harm to herself or the baby should he let her go.

So he held her. 

He held her when her husband leaned down and spoke cruelly to her, held her when all the sycophants vacated the sundeck, following their perverse piper.  He held her and soothed her and rubbed her back and let her weep into his chest. 

He was already in love with her.

The Silver heiress had said something, before she’d sauntered off the deck, something that made Jonah very worried.  He stroked the young Mrs. Grey’s hair, and her back, and looked with some concern at the very large stomach between them.  She might miscarry, or she might go into premature labor.  She was practically choking on her sobs now, her body wracked with grief and anguish.  He needed her to calm down as soon as humanly possible.

He murmured all kinds of sweet things to her.  Told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved better.  He told her that her husband was the world’s biggest fool to look at any other creature.  He told her she would be alright.  That she was perfect.  An angel.  He had the feeling that she wasn’t hearing any of it, not really, but he hoped the sentiment was helping to pacify and calm her.  He promised he would help her and protect her and make sure that bastard never hurt her again.

When her sobs subsided to a weak blubbering he made his voice a little more firm:

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”  He told her.

She finally looked at him then, lifted her enormous green eyes to his and really saw him for the first time.  She appeared fascinated and he smiled warmly, assuring her with his eyes that she was in safe hands, that she could trust him.

She smiled back for a beat before a wave of panic washed over her features and her body convulsed forcefully and she vomited all over him.  There was a moment, a split second where he understood what was about to happen, but, not wanting to break his contact with her he had no choice but to brace for impact and allow her to be sick all down his front.  He made himself breathe through his mouth and endure wave after wave of retching.  He held her long, silky chestnut tresses away from the mess and tried to pat her back reassuringly.

When she had finished, her body weak and shaking, her face streaked with tears and twisted in mortification, she parted her lips and tried to speak but had only a raspy whisper left.

He smiled at her.  “Hello.  I’m Jonah—“ he told her, trying to make her smile.  “I’m not sure we’ve met.”

It worked.  She smiled.  The sight of her smile, the way she met his eyes and gazed so deeply into him, he knew he’d be hers as long as she wanted him.  He was in love.

no time to fucking post right now. 

Love,

Beth

Miss You :(

So.... 

where is everybody?

I'm wondering how Keryn is doing with her conquests.

Wondering how andrea's doing with her library endeavors and with maybe writing and with possibly dancing and with exploring her options for a new career.

wondering about the pigeon flock and the little bean!

Seems like everyone's on vacation from their blogs.  Thats ok, I guess, considering how busy I am lately.  however I will honestly say that i miss the time I usually take to sit down with a tea or a snack and read the blogs.

Next week i'll havge more free time.  Why don't you all see if you can work something out for then? lol.  Just kidding.  do what you gotta do-- just know your virtual voices are missed.

Love and affection,

Pain-in-the-ass

Say Goodnight, Dick

Hey. It's production week for A1S1, A.K.A. HELL WEEK, so I'mma be short and sweet.

I'm tired, but in surprosingly good spirits despit alot of shitty bullshit at both jobs. i think because Aaron and i are so happy the other stuff rolls off my back a little better.

Right now i'mma drink some sangria and play some mario, because I can.

And the show will be what it will be, and I'll get a job somehow, and the bills will get paid eventually and summer camp will be over next week and AHHHHHHHh.

I have been trying to squeeze in time for writing but it has been tough. I have shit i could post but I've had a real long ass fucking day so: sangria and mario and my husband, and goodnight everybody.

"Say goodnight, Dick."

"Goodnight Dick!"

Jonah sat at the desk in his study... (PT 2)

Hey, be sure to read yesterday's entry, as it is the first half of this hefty vignette.

i like this one because we get a glimpse into Grey's relationship with Viola, and also a ghost from the past, and also what kind of man Grey is becoming--or is down deep-- despite the events of the first half of this vignette. or maybe, is it the man he COULD be? hmmm. we shall see. I suppose. The thing I like about Grey is that there are always flashes, despite how hard he tries to be one way, the other side always seems to break through in bits and bursts, here and there.

I've just been up writing a goddamn script for the fucking ant and the grasshopper fable, and i would much rther have been writing some salacious sex scene or something.  Lol.  this year, act One Scene 1 proudly presents:  Selections from Cedar Falls!  

Oh hilarity.

*************

“You’re such a wise ass.”  Jonah said, shaking his head.  He took a breath, hitched his own bright smile into place and opened the door, calling:  “Don’t send the search party, I’m in here!”

“Daddy!”  Cried his youngest, running through the livingroom to pounce on him and squeeze him in a fierce hug.

“Ooof!”  He laughed at the impact and then spun her around while squeezing her back even more tightly until she shrieked.  “How was gymnastics?”  He asked after giving her a kiss and setting her feet back on the floor.

“Grey!”  She exclaimed, and ran to her older brother with the same nine-year-old verve.

“Hey freak.”  Grey responded with a smile, and opened his arms for the hug.

Velvet came around the corner from the foyer.  “There you are!”  She said with a smile.  “Did you hear us come in? I didn’t know—Oh! Grey!”  Velvet’s face lit up like Christmas.  Jonah laughed a little at her enthusiasm.  She acted, every time she saw the boy, as if he went to boarding school in Switzerland instead of at a campus just on the outskirts of town.

“Hey Mum.”  Grey greeted warmly and walked toward is mother with exaggerated slowness, as there was a little sister wrapped around his left leg.

Velvet crossed the distance and took his handsome face in her newly manicured fingers and kissed both his cheeks twice.  Then she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.  “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you’d be here!  I wish I’d known, I’d have skipped the market—Oh, Jonah there are groceries, can you? Oh Grey, say you’ll stay for dinner?”

Grey laughed easily.  “What are you having?”  He asked with a charming smile as she pulled back to gaze at him as if it had been months, though the boy came home every Sunday evening for family dinner. 

“Whatever you want!”  She said without hesitation.

He laughed.  “How can I resist?”

She kissed him again and he allowed it, with a slightly embarrassed eye roll. 

“I’m beginning to feel neglected.”  Jonah teased, and his wife spun around with an apology all over her face.  Her pale green eyes were wide and she pressed her lips in, making a silent ‘oops’ expression.

He laughed and held her arms wide for her to move into.  When she’d melted against him he wrapped her close and dipped his head down to meet her lips in a welcome home kiss.  “I missed you too much.”  He murmured against her lips and felt her grin.

“I missed you too.”  She said in a giddy tone of voice that signaled to Jonah that she was too thrilled about coming home to find Grey to focus on much else.

He chuckled and gave her a final peck before standing up straight and letting her go.  He became aware that Grey and Viola were making gross-out faces at one another about their parents’ kisses.  He smiled.

“C’mon love, I need some help with the groceries.”  He told Viola and held out his hand for her.  “Grey?”

Grey nodded, accepted another little hug from his mother and followed Jonah and Viola toward the front door.

“Velvet, it helps, when you have groceries, to park in the garage, sweetheart.”  Jonah said patiently.  He said it every time.

She pulled a face.  “Sorry.”  He knew she disliked the garage and resented the garage door for some reason, but she was always vague about just why, exactly, and he’d learned to let it go and schlep the groceries.  It certainly wasn’t worth arguing about or, rather, making her upset over.  Mr. and Mrs. Delaney didn’t really ever argue, precisely.  

“No problem, we’ve got our big strong son here today.”  He said, flashing her a grin.  “Are there many?  Should you send the other girls out?”

Velvet shrugged.  “I’ll send them when they’re out of their dance clothes.”

Jonah sighed but kept the smile.  That meant they’d wander out just in time to see him grabbing the last bag and locking the trunk.  His girls weren’t stupid.

“How about you Love?”  He asked the peanut bobbing alongside him.  “Do you need to go get out of your gymnastics stuff?”

She giggled and ran ahead into the foyer to do a cartwheel.  “Nope!”

Jonah applauded and Grey enthused too.  Jonah opened the front door and Viola ran onto the front lawn crying ‘Grey! Grey Watch this!’ and proceeded to do some fancy sort of jump and roll and then a round off.

Grey and Jonah again appreciated her display even as they moved toward the van for the grocery bags.

“Thanks again.”  Grey said gruffly, loading up one arm with more grocery bags than was sensible.

Jonah followed suit and Viola carried the milk.  “Of course.”  He said in a low voice after a moment or two.

As they approached the front door Viola remembered something.  “Ooh, guess what?”

“What?”  Jonah asked indulgently.

Velvet waited to hold the door wide for them.  “We saw a man that looked like Grey!  But he was old!  I thought he WAS Grey until I got a better look and saw how OLD he was!”

Velvet’s large green eyes lifted from Viola’s perky face as the girl breezed into the house.  She met Jonah’s first, and then Grey’s.

Jonah’s stomach muscles clenched and he bit his lower jaw into his upper, causing a muscle to tweak in his face.

Beside him Grey looked sober and disgruntled.

Viola didn’t know.  She was chattering away on her progress to the kitchen, unaware that the rest of the train had slowed to a halt in the foyer.

“Jonah, please don’t—“

“Where?”  He asked darkly.  All he could imagine was that son of a bitch watching his little girl in her gymnastics lesson.  Or his twins at Dance.  Or Avalon in her fucking bathing suit at the pool.  His heart flipped.  Avalon was fourteen.  He wouldn’t put it past the animal to start sniffing around her.  “Where?”  He repeated more firmly.

Velvet looked at Grey and fidgeted.  “In the center.”  She replied.  “We didn’t speak of course, he was coming out of the smoke shop and we were headed from the florist and wanted to pop in and see Nolan—“

“I’m gunna go put these down.”  Grey muttered and moved through the foyer without looking back.

Jonah set down all his bags and tried to shake some of the circulation back into his arms.  He knew Grey would keep Viola entertained in the kitchen and he was grateful for the time to think.

“Jonah—“  Velvet closed the door and leaned her back against it.

“I just wasn’t ready.”  He said.  He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He wasn’t ready to tell Viola.  But now he knew he should.  Christ.  It had been hard enough with Avalon and the twins, but Viola?  She and Grey were especially close.  He’d been her champion and protector since she’d come home from the hospital.  Where he’d spent much of his life dedicated to the hobby of making Avalon and the twins miserable—teasing, tormenting, bullying, playing pranks on, instigating arguments, playing one against the others, all older brother bullshit—with Viola he’d finally become the kind of older brother Jonah could be proud of. 

He’d liked her since he met her in the maternity ward, and had apparently decided from then on to be her friend.  And when the other girls picked on her and made her life miserable the way he’d done to them, he was always there to come to her rescue, stave them off, or plot revenge pranks with her.  He made the girl laugh when she was down, made up elaborate bedtime stories to tell her when she was all wound up and didn’t want to sleep, played board games with her when she asked, and actually sat through her recitals without complaining.

And she adored him.  Jonah hadn’t told Grey, but Viola had wept bitterly for hours on end when he’d started at Cedar Prep—when he’d moved to the boarding school three years previous.  Even though Jonah explained that he’d be home every weekend, and every school vacation, and every summer.  She’d taken it very hard and it had seemed to take an agonizingly long time for her to adjust and bounce back to her usual self.  Grey’d helped with that, too.  He’d become her pen pal, a thing Viola had always wanted, but being six and not terribly adept at ‘writing’ yet, had not had such an opportunity.  Grey wrote her short letters, which Jonah would help her read, and usually included a drawing or a small artifact to amuse her; and she’d scribble nonsense back, very often including her list of spelling words from school with no prepositions to link them into anything resembling a sentence, and she’d draw pictures and send him little items as well.  Jonah suspected they were very often pilfered from her sisters and it was some kind of devious treasure hunt that Grey encouraged, but he held his tongue and let her seal them up and even stamped the envelopes himself.  Anything for that beautiful smile of hers.

And Jonah had been enormously grateful to his son for it.  A young teenage boy, on his own for the first time in his life, with so many distractions and activities and changes and new adventures to try, and the boy had taken the time, weekly, to indulge in the little ritual that made his sister beam and glow when she ran up to the mailbox.  Jonah wouldn’t have faulted the kid if he’d missed a week, or if he’d gradually weaned her by sending fewer and fewer letters over the course of his busy school year.  But it hadn’t happened like that.  Grey’d kept his end of the bargain up for the entire first year he was away, and then resumed the practice the next year when she’d cried and locked herself in her room after the Labor Day cookout when Velvet was getting ready to drive him back to school.  He’d coaxed her out by promising to write again and making her promise to do the same.  Only then had she consented to hug him goodbye and allow her father to hold her while her mom and brother pulled out of the driveway toward Cedar Prep.  

They were still pen pals but Viola had become much more busy in her little life and so the letters were finally spaced out, maybe one or two a month.  They were also longer and more articulate on her end, and shorter and more irreverent on his end.  Jonah could always tell when his daughter had received a pen pal letter by the particularly boisterous laughing he’d hear coming from her room before bed.  Whatever the hell Grey wrote to her it always cracked her up like nothing else.  She adored him.

And now he needed to take her aside tonight and explain the older man she’d seen in the center of town today.  God dammit.  He’d told the twins when they were nine, but they hadn’t seemed so young at nine.  And he’d told them together with Avalon, who’d been eleven and had always possessed a poise and maturity beyond her years.  It hadn’t been as awful as he’d expected.  But, then, none of them were all that fond of their brother, and Jonah got the feeling that they were almost relieved to discover he was only partly related to them—as if it somehow all made sense and explained how mean he was to them.

“We don’t have to tell her today.”  Velvet said in a very quiet, very urgent voice.

“Yes.  We do.”  Jonah sighed heavily.  It would be dishonest otherwise, and he made a practice of fairness and honesty with his children.  “It’s come-up, she’s noticed the resemblance, it would be sneaky to hide it any longer.”

Velvet walked to him slowly and slipped her arms around his waist tentatively.  He forced a small smile to let her know he wasn’t angry and fixed his glasses back in place before pulling her the rest of the way into an embrace.

“I’m sorry.”  She whispered, her head resting on his chest.

“There’s nothing to apologize for Sweetheart.” Jonah told her firmly.  “It isn’t shameful, it isn’t wrong, it’s just, it just isn’t easy.”  He said thoughtfully.  “But who said life is ever easy? Hm?”  He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“Do you think it will change?”

Jonah was quiet.  He wasn’t sure.  He hoped not.  Not only for Viola’s sake but for Grey’s.  Poor Grey.  Jonah almost lost his resolve when he thought about the possibility that telling Viola might just change their unique relationship—Jonah sometimes thought Grey’s little sister was the only thing, besides his mother, keeping him tethered to a semi-respectable lifestyle, and rooted in the family.

“I think Grey should tell her with us.”  Jonah murmured at last. 

Velvet looked up at him and he saw the fear and hurt in her eyes.  “Don’t make him talk about it.”  She pleaded gently.

He kissed the tip of her nose.  “He’s not a boy anymore, Angel.” Jonah thought about Grey’s very real and very unfortunate situation that still needed to be dealt with this week.  “And it concerns him, why shouldn’t he have a say in how we explain it to his sister?”

Her lower lip trembled and her mouth bent into a slight frown, slight pout.  “I wish—“

Jonah kissed her to stop her from saying more.  “No.”  He said after a long moment of tender but full kissing.  “He’s perfect, you’re perfect, we’re perfect.”  He insisted.  “I don’t wish anything different Mrs. Delaney—“  He smiled warmly and saw her melt a bit, and return his smile with a small, sweet one of her own.  “And I don’t want you to either.  Not ever.”

He pulled his wife against him again and squeezed.  He rested one hand on the back of her head and gently pressed her ear to his chest, wanting her to hear his heart beat there.  “I love you.”  He said, knowing she would feel the vibrations of the familiar phrase and not just hear them.

With his other hand easily spreading across the entire expanse of her slight back he could feel her warmth, feel every inhalation and exhalation.  And when she answered with her own “I Love you”, he felt his fingertips tingle gently with the vibration of it.

“Can we wait till after dinner?”  Velvet asked meekly.

Jonah smiled.  “Of course.”  He wasn’t in a rush to spoil anyone’s evening.

“Thank you.”  His wife breathed and squeezed his rib cage a little tighter.

“Now let’s get these bags to the kitchen before the ice cream melts.”  Jonah said with a chuckle, noting a pair of frosty cartons on the floor of the foyer.

“Oh!”  Explained Velvet with a small start. 

He let her rush to the pile of bags he’d left unceremoniously and watched her bend to lift the ice cream bag.  He sighed a little at how perfect her ass was.  She bobbed back up and spun to face him with a girlish smile.  “Your favorite!”

“Lucky me.”  He grinned, and as she moved past him toward the kitchen he slapped her ass playfully.

She giggled appreciatively and continued on with a flirty glance over her shoulder.  “C’mon Mr. Delaney.”  She cooed, disappearing into the dining room with the endangered ice cream.

With a soft laugh he bent to gather up the abandoned groceries.  And he thought about Grace Bennett.  His high school sweetheart.  And wondered what kind of life they might be living today if she’d said ‘yes’ when he’d proposed that night in the car, up at Cedar Point.  If she’d said ‘yes’ and kept the baby.

A shiver stole over him from scalp to heel thinking about how close he’d come to missing out on all this.  His perfect life.  His dream come true. 

“Mum said to come help you!”  Piped a small voice behind him and he grinned, warmed through by the sound of his youngest skipping across the stone floor toward him.

“That’s my girl.”  He said affectionately, and with the quick expertise a father learns early, he deftly chose three bags of the lightest possible groceries.  “You always come through for me when I’m in a pinch.”  He told her.

She giggled.  “You’re my best friend.”  She explained.

He couldn’t help the grin he gave her.  She could make his heart swell without the least effort.  “I always will be.”  He told her without equivocation.

Her eyes scrunched up and she dazzled him with a mega-watt smile, absent a few baby teeth, making him laugh from his belly.

“Dj’you have fun in gymnastics today?”  He inquired as they made their way out of the foyer at last.

“I’m the best one in my class.”  She boasted.

He laughed again.  “How can you be certain of this?”

She looked affronted but rose to the challenge. “I can do back bends and round offs, and nobody else can do both back bends and round offs.” 

“So you’re ahead of the game, eh?”

“Exactly.”  She nodded, pushing the kitchen door open with her behind and scooting in backwards.  “Besides that, I can do three cartwheels in a row without even getting dizzy, and everyone else just falls over after two usually.”

Jonah nodded, “I’m impressed.”  He remarked, lifting his bags to the top of the kitchen island with a small groan.  Jesus Christ.  What on earth was his wife doing buying all these groceries?  “Delivery!”  He called jauntily.  But as he glanced around the kitchen he saw his wife and son were nowhere in sight.

Viola finished climbing onto one of the kitchen island barstools and deposited her three bags atop the surface alongside her father’s.  She looked around, appearing as puzzled as he.

“Where’d everyone go?”  He asked her.

She looked up and shrugged her small shoulders.

“Hmmm.”  He said thoughtfully.  “Well, let’s say you and I start putting these away—“  He saw Grey’s head move past the kitchen window.  They were out on the deck.  “Actually, love, can you start without me?  I think I spotted them.”  He winked at her and she giggled.  She lifted her arms high and he obeyed the unspoken command to lift her from the stool and spin her before setting her on the ground.

“Freezer stuff first.”  He reminded her as he crossed to the slider.

“I don’t want her anywhere near that man—“  Jonah heard Grey say as he slid open the door.

Velvet and Grey spun to face him.  Jonah smiled, though he could feel his brow bunched up.  “Am I meant to put them all away as well?”  He teased half-heartedly.  What the hell was going on?

Velvet looked apologetic and crossed to give him a peck on the cheek.  “I just never get to see him.”  She explained.

“If you let me put him in public school he’d be home all the time.”  Jonah reminded her with a playful one-finger tap to her perfect nose.  Home, under this roof, where he could more closely monitor the boy.

She shook her head and sighed exaggeratedly.  All the Calder men had attended Cedar Prep, they’d gone back and forth on whether or not to send Grey, but she’d been firm on her wishes and he’d capitulated.  Despite the fact that he was a public school teacher, and a high ranking member of the union, and president of the PTA at Cedar Falls elementary.  His son had been sent to private school.

“We were actually just talking about his grades.”  Velvet said, directing a meaningful look at her son.

Jonah frowned.  No.  They had not been.  What was going on?  “Yes.”  Jonah said slowly.  “That’s what Grey and I were discussing when you came home.”

Grey shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed, staring fixedly at some point above their heads. 

“You’re having trouble in--?”  Velvet asked sweetly.

“Biology.”  Grey responded, and Jonah’s lips twitched.  The kid had lost some of the balls he’d had in the study and had chosen the more subtle option.  Maybe it was closer to the truth.  Grey didn’t seem to have any trouble at all with the human anatomy, but the biology of it was causing him a great deal of angst. 

“Yes, well, you don’t want to be a scientist anyway.”  Said Velvet dismissively, but Jonah fixed her with a warning look.

“Sweetheart, that isn’t the point.”

She looked contrite.  “Of course.  No.  Of course.  You’ll need to study harder.”

“I will.”  Grey said in a bored tone of voice.  “When are we telling her?”  He asked, looking over his mother’s head at Jonah.

Jonah leaned back into the kitchen and watched Viola struggling to add frozen peas to the top shelf of the freezer—she was so diminutive.  He leaned his head back out.  “After dinner?”

Velvet nodded emphatically and Grey shrugged.  “Fine.”

The three of them looked at eachother for a moment.  “Velvet why don’t we get the other girls to put away the groceries and help you with dinner.  Grey, maybe you’d like to take Viola for an icecream or something?”

“And spoil our dinner?”  He asked with a wide grin.

“I think your mother will forgive you.”  Jonah responded with an answering grin.

Velvet giggled and cupped her son’s cheek adoringly.  “Go ahead.  Be back in an hour.”

Jonah stepped onto the back deck as Grey moved past him into the kitchen.  “Grey—just dodge any questions if they come up—I want to be the one to tell her.”  He said in a low voice, and Grey nodded.

“Hey midget, wanna go for a drive?”

Jonah pulled the slider shut and looked long at Velvet.  She swallowed under the scrutiny and pushed her ling silken hair over her shoulders.  “What were you two actually discussing out here?”

“Pardon?”

“Velvet?”

“Vaughan Grey.”

Jonah inhaled sharply and nodded.  “And?”

“And it isn’t an easy subject for him and I wanted to prepare him for the discussion later.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes, trying to reconcile her apparently honest tone with what he’d overheard his son saying a few moments ago.

“He was as rattled as you, I think, about him being near the girls.”

But Grey didn’t have half the reasons to be as concerned as Jonah was.  Jonah knew a hell of a lot more about the son-of-a-bitch than he’d ever told his son.

“Does he have reason to think the girls might find themselves in the man’s proximity again?”  Jonah asked very quietly, but very pointedly. 

Velvet’s eyes got hugely round and she shook her head.  “Of course not!”  She assured him, tears welling in those beautiful green orbs. 

He instantly felt like a heel. “I’m sorry.  Forgive me.”  He rushed and opened his arms for a hug.

Her lower lip quivered and he wished he hadn’t said anything.  But she let him gather her up, let him hold her and murmur apologies for doubting her in the slightest.  Of course she wouldn’t be going anywhere near that monster.  Why on earth would she, after how he’d treated her?  Jonah was an ass for even thinking it for a moment, for even hinting at the possibility.

She’d only gone back to him once, in a moment of weakness and confusion, and that had ended in absolute disaster; had ended in brutal rape and almost ended in homicide.  Of course she wouldn’t put herself in a situation like that again, and of course she wouldn’t willingly endanger any of her children. 

He held her tight.  Seeing that man today must have dredged up all the fear and guilt and pain she’d worked so hard to bury and overcome.

“I’m so sorry.”  He said again, his lips against the silky softness of her hair.  “Are you ok?”

He felt her nod against his chest.

It was going to be a long evening, telling Viola about an ugly, unhappy history.  But the truth was always better than secrets and whispers and doubts.  And the sooner he warned his little girl about that wolf she’d seen dressed up as a man, the sooner she knew how dangerous that man was, the better.  He’d deal with the nightmares and the ‘can I sleep in your bed’ and the looking around every corner for a while if it meant she never unwittingly fell into his traps.

“I can make dinner, if you want.”  He offered, still feeling like an ass.

She giggled.  “No, I wanna do it.”  She said.  “You help the girls with their homework.”

He smiled.  That he could do.  After they helped put away the damn groceries.

“Tell me it’s all going to be alright?” She whispered as he rocked her.

“It will.”  He asserted in a soothing voice.  “Everything will always be alright.”