8. Grace

Chapter 8

Grace

"I've never heard such a clear explanation of the connection between sensory inputs and the nervous system." Mariana said as the last prospective foster parents left.

I thanked her, bagging up the meditation cushions I'd borrowed from the yoga studio so the parents could try mindfulness techniques. It was a topic I loved teaching, one I'd written my Master's thesis on, and I was thrilled Mariana had thought of asking me to teach it.

"Hey, I volunteer at the domestic violence shelter and they would love this training too. Can I introduce you to Rachel? She handles the workshop planning but won't schedule anything until spring because she's super pregnant," she asked. "And you work at a yoga studio, right? Their self-defense teacher quit, do you know anybody who has personal training or martial arts experience and could pass a background check?"

"Send you the job description, I'll keep my ear to the ground," I said before asking the question weighing on me since Mariana called. I hadn't wanted to cause a HIPAA violation by asking in front of the foster parents … or Alex. "Any updates on Ruby's case?"

"Nothing yet, but I understand why she's your favorite. She charmed my pants off when I met her."

"She can win over even the biggest grinches," I said, remembering how much she'd delighted Alex when he was Santa.

Ruby had been one of my first patients at the hospital. Her mom Sarah had gone on a business trip to New York, had a one night stand, and returned home with a souvenir … and the man wasn't interested in parenting, so it was Sarah and Ruby against the world.

Ruby was born with a rare heart defect, Tetralogy of Fallot, which caused occasional 'tet spells' caused by a sudden drop in blood oxygen. Her skin turned blue, she would feel dizzy and sometimes pass out. The treatment was open heart surgery as an infant.

I spent the day in the waiting room with Sarah, where she asked me to pray with her. Although it wasn't technically my job, I'd been a Pastor's Kid before I became a social worker, so in a strange way, I'd been training for moments like that for my whole life.

I'd borrowed a Bible from the chaplain's office, the weight of it heavy in my hands after years without opening one. I flipped to the book that always brought me the most comfort: The Book of Jeremiah, written by the prophet my parents had named me after.

" Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I set you apart ," I began, and Sarah's eyes glistened with hopeful tears. Mama recited that passage to Elijah and me, saying she could tell us apart in the womb from how we kicked and wiggled. He was active at night while I was the early bird, so she never got any sleep.

As we waited for news from surgery, I read nearly the whole book aloud, including my favorite verse: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to give you hope and a future." I showed Sarah the tattoo on my wrist for that verse, 29:11. Elijah suggested matching tattoos the month before he left for a year abroad in Tokyo. He said it would remind us both of our plans when he returned.

Plans I'd smashed to smithereens, because I wasn't Jeremiah anymore.

"Promise me, Grace," Sarah said, grabbing my wrist over the verse numbers. "I need to know Ruby will have a bright future."

Without making guarantees, I reassured her, "I'll do everything I can for her." And when the surgeon came to the waiting room to inform us Ruby had pulled through, I held Sarah as she collapsed in my arms.

So it had been a heartbreaking loss last month when Mariana called to tell me Ruby was her newest foster care case because Sarah had passed. Apparently, Sarah had a heart condition too, and didn't know it until it had been too late. Ruby's Grandma Jean moved into their house — not a permanent solution, given Jean's failing health — while the foster agency tracked down Ruby's father. They'd rather place her with family, but their options were limited.

"To be honest, I'm worried about Jean's health. If Ruby faints, I'm not sure Jean can handle it," Mariana confessed as we walked to the parking lot.

As I glanced back at the brick social services building, wondering if one of those parents would end up with Ruby, grief tightened my throat. I'd promised Sarah I'd do what I could, never expecting my promise to include training Sarah's replacement.

Knowing how much Ruby meant to me, Mariana promised to keep in touch, heading for her car while I drove up Broadway to return the props to the yoga studio.

I unlocked the studio's front door and balanced the bag of cushions on my shoulder like Santa, but instead of going down a chimney, I climbed up a flight of stairs to the empty reception area. As I stacked cushions in the studio's prop storage area, Mallory's cackle echoed from the back hallway.

I followed the laughter to the lounge, an area with a small kitchenette and a long couch, a cozy recliner and a small coffee table. Mallory sprawled out on the couch beside her best friend Kate, eating Chinese takeout.

Mallory and Kate had been friends since they were 15, opened their businesses at the same time, and even dated some of the same guys — not at the same time. When Kate got engaged, she asked Mallory to be her Maid of Honor.

Mallory might be my best friend, but Kate would always be hers.

I liked Kate, but couldn't tell if she liked me or only tolerated me as Mallory's employee. I'd once confessed that to Mallory after several vodka tonics, and she snorted, "That's part of Kate's charm. She was born and raised in Queens, she's not going to kiss your ass. Trust me, if she didn't like you, you'd know."

A wave of jealousy flooded me seeing them relaxed on the couch. I backed up, not wanting to interrupt their dinner, but Mallory jumped up from the couch and dragged me over. I protested I was only returning borrowed props, but she insisted they had enough food. Kate shifted to make room and I shot her an apologetic glance and asked, "When did you get home?"

"A few hours ago, but Paul went to visit his mom and we didn't have any food in our house. I was ready to recap our ‘one year until the wedding' trip, but I heard when I left, everything went to shit."

"Why didn't you plan your trip around Dad's heart attack?" Mal teased around a bite of dumpling.

"So tell me everything I missed, now that Grace is here to fact check," Kate said. I couldn't tell if she was teasing Mallory for her typical embellishments or me for being too earnest.

Mallory recounted every detail about the worker bees, and her dad's speech, and meeting the hot cartographer — cardiologist, I corrected again. "He definitely has a crush on Grace. Have you gotten his number yet?"

I thought about how Dr. Tran's heroics, jumping on stage to start CPR. After surgery, he tracked me down to make sure I was ok. A few days later, he flirted during Bruce's exam, leaning closer to whisper a request for his own pie because when he likes something, he doesn't want to share it.

My eyes flicked to Alex, sulking in Bruce's guest chair. When I pretended to misinterpret the flirtation, the corner of his lip tilted into that tiny grin.

When I shook my head, Mallory asked, "What about that cute overnight nurse who wanted a Grace for Christmas?"

The next morning, I'd visited Bruce's room at the tail end of the overnight shift. After Carla clocked out, she brought me a much-needed coffee. When I asked why she'd let me stay, she said, "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want you to go." Then she'd teased me about my midnight rendezvous, and I recognized a pang of jealousy when I'd offered a ride to the man she coined ‘Captain Arrogance.'

I cleared my throat. "I'd prefer not to date someone from the hospital."

"Ah, the old ‘don't shit where you sleep' defense," Mallory said. "What about online dating?"

I'd tried it once or twice, but it was so awkward. "Yeah, but when do I disclose that I'm transgender? If I put it in my profile, it brings out the fetishists, but I don't want to be misleading."

"Fuck that noise, I'll write your profile," Mallory said, making dramatic hand gestures in the sky like a Newsie spelling out a headline. "Nicest human alive. Will feed you homemade pastry. Hot, thin and tall. Can put her leg behind her head." She added in the skywriting below, at a faster pace, "Great with parents, but won't drag you to suffer through shitty family events."

"Who wouldn't swipe right?" Kate laughed as she reached into a takeout container. "Now do mine."

"But you're engaged."

"Just for fun," Kate shrugged.

"Talented artist, but won't shame you for not knowing Renoir from Rembrandt. World's strongest bullshit detector. Tits and ass for days." As Mallory made curving motions with her hands, Kate stood to twerk into her shoulder. Mal smacked her butt and they both cracked up.

"My compliments to Cruz, your ass has never looked better."

"I'll pass along the praise," Kate said with a mocking hat tip. "I never thought I'd hire a personal trainer, but his boot camp classes have the best playlists. He has a brown belt, so he incorporates martial arts stuff too, but it never feels uncomfortable even with Navy bros around."

I considered Mariana's search while snagging a dumpling with my chopsticks. "Would he teach a self-defense class?"

"Here at the studio?" Mallory asked, brows pinching in confusion.

"No, the domestic violence shelter needs an instructor," I paused, biting my lip. "But we could offer one here too, for women who need it."

"I can bring you to a class to find out if he's interested," Kate said. "The real decision is whether you want to join me at Motown Monday or Taylor Swift Tuesday."

I consulted my phone calendar, wondering what the heck I was signing up for. "Um, Tuesday? "

Kate nodded in approval. "I didn't take you for a Swiftie."

"But it doesn't fit into our monthly membership," I said. "Could we make it pay what you want and donate the proceeds to the shelter?" My wheels turned about a new community partnership. We could also collect items for the shelter like toiletries and diapers. I made a mental note to include that in my email to the Rachel person Mariana mentioned.

"Absolutely. Can you interview him?"

"You want me to ask him?" I said, wishing Mallory would schmooze while I ran the background check and filed the employment paperwork.

"Why not? I'm swamped, and you're the studio manager. Plus you convinced Alex to fly home, so I bet —"

"Alex came home ? Way to bury the lede!" Kate exclaimed, her hand slamming on the table. "You sadist, you put poor Grace on Alex duty?"

Kate made a Sign of the Cross over my forehead in an exaggerated blessing and murmured, " Ave Maria, piena di grazia," before she leaned closer conspiratorially. "Is he still the hottest man alive?"

When I choked on my General Tso's tofu, Kate smirked. "I'll take that as a yes. Too bad he has to open his mouth and ruin it."

She flipped to Mallory. "Is he still dating that redhead?"

Wait, Alex had a girlfriend?

"Victoria?" Mallory chewed her dumplings. "When I asked him, he said she had to stay behind to cover since they've got some big case or something. But who knows? He never tells me anything."

My stomach churned at this glimpse of Alex's personal life.

He kissed me two days ago. You shouldn't kiss someone if you have a girlfriend.

Then again, it was barely a peck to amuse the kids, not a big deal.

But if the kiss wasn't a big deal, he wouldn't need to hide that he had a girlfriend.

If he had a girlfriend.

We spent hours talking today, wouldn't it have come up if he had a girlfriend?

Not that I thought he told me everything …

And I hadn't exactly spilled all my secrets to him, either .

"When he brought her to your parents' anniversary party," Kate said, completely unaware of my inner spiraling, "I thought they would have the world's prettiest babies."

"The prettiest, most arrogant babies."

"I don't think babies can be arrogant." Kate flipped to me and rested her chin on her palm. "So what'd he do when you called? Yell at you? Call you the wrong name? Hang up on you?"

I bit my lip. Sure, he'd done all of those things, but I'd also seen a gentler side … although based on how they talked about him, I'm not sure they'd believe me.

They definitely wouldn't believe he volunteered to dress as Santa again tomorrow. If I told them, they might show up to gawk, which would be embarrassing as heck. Especially if he kissed me again …

Not that I expected it. He'd been tricked into it by the nurses last time.

I'd make sure it didn't happen again.

I waved a hand dismissively. "He's not as bad as you two made him seem."

"I'm still surprised he came home. Something you said must have tipped the balance," Mallory said around a mouthful of vegetable egg roll.

"Did you use your feminine wiles?" Kate fluttered her eyelashes and Mallory made an aggressive gagging noise.

"No way," I said, not sure if I even had feminine wiles given how uncomfortable I felt about charming people. Maybe teenage girls learned the secrets in middle school so I missed the lesson.

"A polite request wouldn't have gotten him onto the plane. One does not simply," Mallory put her fingertips together like the Lord of the Rings meme she texted me a million times, but instead of ‘walk into Mordor,' she said, "ask Alexander James Clarke to come home."

"Quite the opposite. I told him how severe the heart attack was and told him he'd regret not coming home if something went wrong," I said, leaving out the part where I'd mentioned his strength to stroke his ego. Men.

Mallory's eyebrows squeezed together, trying to figure out how she could use this tactic to win future arguments with her brother … until admiration shone through like a heart-eyes emoji. The cat one, if she were sending it. "Oh my god, you Nala'ed him. "

I blinked in confusion, trying to place the reference from all our movie nights, but apparently, she hadn't shown me whatever a Nala was.

" The Lion King ," Kate translated. "After Mufasa died, Simba ran away. When his childhood friend Nala found him, she guilt-tripped him into taking his rightful place as King."

Like a typical New Yorker, she added, "It's better on Broadway."

"I wonder if I can use this to lure him to a yoga class. Nobody needs to relax more than that uptight jackass." Her mouth curled into a devious smile as she wrapped her hands around mine. "Teach me your ways, oh wise Nala. We must protect the Pride Lands."