A Touch of Grace

The boyfriend who cheated on her.

About an hour later, she was still on the couch, looking through pictures on her laptop. Brownie had appeared from somewhere and was now asleep by her side. Claire occasionally reached out to caress her while looking through the photos. She wasn't entirely sure why she was doing this to herself. Pauline had said she was having breakup withdrawals, so that probably had something to do with it.

She clicked through a slideshow of photos from their holiday to Paris, the two of them smiling at the camera, even though it had been a pretty terrible experience all over. A last ditch attempt at a bit of romance when they'd spent the whole time bickering and blaming each other for stupid things like misreading the map and not packing the phone charger.

Claire paused on a picture of the two of them, arms around each other in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was painfully clichéd, like a stock photo of a happy couple. Her finger hovered for a second, and then she clicked down on the delete button, feeling a sudden thrill of panic when the trashcan appeared on the screen.

She stared at it for a minute, not sure how she felt. Not too bad. Like a little weight had lifted off her back. She clicked through to the next one, looking at a shot of Brad wearing Mickey Mouse ears at Euro Disneyland.

Delete.

Delete delete delete.

Halfway through, she realised there were tears rolling down her cheeks. She closed the laptop, not able to go any further. Knowing, despite herself, that the photos weren't really gone, were just sitting in the recycling bin waiting for her to delete them permanently. She couldn't do it. Just couldn't...

Her phone rang. She wasn't sure where it exactly was, but when Brownie meowed and moved away from her lap, she realised it was in her pyjama pocket.

"Unknown number," she mumbled to herself, staring at the screen. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody. Despite that, she received the call.

"Ms McFadden?" The male voice on the other end was gentle and warm. Claire wiped off her tears, trying to remember if she knew that voice.

"Yes," she replied, realising her voice had turned hoarse from the tears.

"Hi, I'm Bryan Fielding. Grace's dad."

Claire's heart missed a beat, although she wasn't sure if it was from excitement or fear. "Oh. Hi. What's up?"

"I'm calling to ask if Grace can come at noon tomorrow, instead of ten." His voice was hesitant, like he was expecting to be turned down. "She has to be at the doctor's in the morning, so..."

"Is she okay?" Claire recognised the panic in her voice as she said that. Grace had been doing really good the last three weeks or so. She had opened up, liked to talk about her favourite things, and looked forward to every Saturday. The other week she had made her dad wait for full fifteen minutes because she wanted to complete her airplane craft before going home.

Claire would hate to know she was unwell.

"Yeah, she's okay. Her doctor was talking of changing her medicines so a checkup is required." He paused, and Claire found herself swallowing out of relief in the meanwhile. "It was unscheduled. I'm sorry—"

"It's fine," Claire nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "I'll make it noon. Or if you want, she can skip tomorrow altogether."

"Oh no, she'd hate that." Bryan laughed, and Claire found herself smiling at the sound. "We'll be there straight from the hospital. You won't be inconvenienced, right?"

"No, it's okay. I...I can't imagine how you do that." The words were out before she could stop them.

"Do what?" Bryan asked.

"Just...you know...deal with your child's condition. You must have an enormous reserve of strength."

"Don't know about that. But she's my child. If not me, then who?"

"Yeah. Right. How is she doing?"

"She's good. A little annoyed when I told her she'd be late tomorrow." He laughed again. "She's never been to any toddler program or play group. This is her first. I'm amazed at how well she's doing. After that first day, I was really worried..."

"Oh, she's great," Claire smiled fondly. "I'd thought she'll remain shy, but she made a rapid turnaround. When she starts talking, the words refuse to stop."

"She only does that with people she's comfortable with, so...congratulations. You've really got to her in these four weeks. She likes you." She could sense the smile in his voice. "You must be used to it, right? Every child seems to like you so much."

"I'm blessed, I guess," she said. "Although what I do is nothing compared to what their parents do for them."

"It's indeed a blessing to be loved by children. Okay, so I'll hang up now. We'll be there at noon, tomorrow."

"Yes. Okay. Umm...say hi to Grace from me."

"I will." Bryan smiled again. "Thanks. Have a good night."

"You too."

Claire realised she had been holding the phone to her ear long after the call had ended. Brownie meowed, hopped back on to the sofa, and nudged her foot with her head. Claire checked the time, realised it was her dinner time.

"You hungry, baby?" she put the phone down on the sofa and picked up the brown, furry feline, stroking her as she rose from the sofa, stretched her legs, and headed to the kitchen. Brownie had always liked her. And ever since she started living here, she had become her favourite member in the house. More often than, Claire woke up with Brownie sleeping in her bed, either next to her, or underneath her blanket, or near her feet. She didn't know about Peter or Pauline, but Brownie would sure miss her if she moved out.

She ordered Chinese takeaway for dinner and settled in front of the TV, preparing for another empty night ahead.

*

"He dreamed a dream of swimming

up to see the sky above,

Lit up by the sun in colours

he just knew he'd love."

Grace moved her finger over the illustration of the orange fish as Claire read, her eyes round and full of awe. She was seated on Claire's lap, book open in front of them. Even though she'd arrived there straight after seeing the doctor, she seemed to be in high spirits, eager to read the stories and make paper crafts.

"But gnarbles never swam that high, their fins were much too small," Claire continued to read, passing her index finger over each word. "Their tails were thin and floppy, which didn't help at all."

"That's too bad," Grace pouted. Claire kissed her cheek, laughing.

"Let's see what happens, shall we?" she asked her, to which Grace nodded.

"This gnarble liked his fins and had no problem with his tail,

So when he woke he knew that he just couldn't, wouldn't fail."

"Yay! He can't fail." Grace clapped, giggling. Claire turned a page, her concentration drifting. She'd spent the night watching meaningless TV, and then completed an ornate jewellery box. Peter and Pauline had returned pretty late, and had also peeked in to check on her, but she'd pretended to be asleep, hiding her face in the pillow and trying to stifle the sob that she'd been fighting all evening.

She'd tried to be her usual cheerful self when working with her group of tiny-tots that morning, but her attention had drifted many times. And then Grace had arrived, and she'd put on her brightest smile when receiving her.

"I'm swimming up above the waves to see the sky of blue;

I've never seen it even once, and now it's time I do."

Grace gasped, her tone wondering and full of anticipation as to what would happen next.

"But the other gnarbles warned him that he shouldn't swim so high,

As did the blyfish family that always swam close by.

"No gnarble's ever swam that high, it simply isn't done,

A blyfish....might just make the trip...but...we know..."

The rest of the words got lost somewhere. Claire pressed her hand to her mouth, her body hiccupping as the tears ran down her cheeks. She let go of the book, covered her mouth with both hands, trying in vain to bring herself under control. The tears kept flowing, her body trembling.

Grace turned to look at her, stared blankly for a moment. And then Claire felt her small arms around her neck, warm and soft against her skin. On an impulse, Claire held her back, unable to gather herself quickly. Neither of them said anything. The silent connection between them was unlike anything Claire had ever experienced, like Grace knew what she was feeling.

"Daddy." Grace spoke softly. Claire jerked away, hurriedly wiping off her tears with both hands and smoothing her hair. But one look out of the window, and she realised Bryan had seen everything, even though he was far outside the front gate and pretending to not look.

"My bird isn't done yet!" she scrambled down her lap, going over to the other side of the table, where they'd put the cardboard bird to dry. "I have to paint it."

"I can ask your dad to wait awhile," Claire said, her voice all garbled and croaky. "Would you want that?"

Grace nodded, pulling out paint from a box. Claire got up from the chair and turned to leave the room, feeling the tear stains on her cheeks. She should be past caring now. Bryan had seen her throwing up, he had seen her crying. She didn't think she could embarrass herself any more than that.

She found a young volunteer outside and asked her to watch over Grace for some time. Then she ventured outside, waved when Bryan smiled at her.

"Hey." She realised her nose was still a tad runny when she attempted to talk. Bryan had come in, was standing at the foot of the steps. "Grace wants to finish colouring her bird, so..."

"It's fine," Bryan nodded. "Umm...are you alright?"

Claire did what came naturally to her: nodded.

"Didn't look so from the way you broke down there," he said calmly. Claire folded her arms around herself, trying to soothe the sudden appearance of goosebumps on her skin. "Your eyes are still puffy," he added.

Claire climbed down the steps so she was face to face with him. Then she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry." She said softly. "I shouldn't have. Not in front of a child..."

"You think crying is a bad thing?" Bryan smiled at her. Claire just stared, not knowing what to say. "Sometimes there's no better catharsis."

"I'm fine..." She said, raising her left hand to move hair out of her face. For a fleeting moment, she saw his eyes darting at her ring finger. "I'm just....having a...rough time..."

She found Bryan staring, arms folded across his chest. Grace was still painting, and the young volunteer was helping her.

"I'm going through a breakup," she blurted, realising she needed to share it with someone who was not her brother or his wife. Then she managed a laugh. "Just breakup withdrawals, I guess."

Bryan's face saddened. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," she laughed again. "No...umm...it's okay. It's close to two months now, and I initiated it so....I guess that doesn't give me the right to...you know...be sad."

"It's hard, all the same." Bryan was still gazing at her, occasionally glancing at the window in the distance. Grace waved once, and he fondly waved back. "It's tough to be happy around kids when you're actually sad. I know. I do it all the time."

"You're not happy?"

"When you know your child will never have a complete life?" He shook his head, like he was talking to himself. "I can't let her know, right? I mean, she doesn't even know what's wrong with her... She just knows she's sick... Everyone eventually gets better when they're sick, don't they?"

"She...she won't get better?" Claire spoke the words with difficulty, like not saying them would change the reality. Bryan smiled wistfully, glancing at the window again. Claire followed his gaze, realised Grace was almost done.

"I'll get her," she said, hurrying back up the stairs. Grace showed her the bird excitedly, said she was going to hang it from her window. The paint was fast-drying, so she could easily hold her craft in her hand, showing it to everybody on her way out. Grace had opened up in those weeks. Claire had learned from her that they lived on Seventh Avenue, that she had a very helpful set of grandparents, and that her room had stars on the ceiling at night.

She also wanted to do something with airplanes when she grew up. Claire felt a pang of sadness every time she heard her say that. She always smiled and told her that she'd do big things in life, but deep inside she doubted the truth of those words. And whenever she looked into her dad's eyes, she saw pain— the kind of pain she'd never experienced. Never wanted to.

"We're going Christmas shopping tomorrow," she said to her dad once she was outside. "Ask Miss Claire to join us," she tugged at his hand.

"Ummm..." Bryan looked a little flabbergasted, like he hadn't expected her to say that. Neither had Claire. "She might have other work tomorrow, Grace..."

"I actually do." Claire remembered. "I'm going to see a house tomorrow."

"There." Bryan looked down at Grace, who was sulking and pouting, hiding behind her dad like she didn't want to see her face. Bryan obviously hated to see his daughter sad, his face reflected it. When he looked back at her, Claire saw him struggling to find a way to make her understand.

"I'll be done in a couple of hours or so," Claire added, saw Bryan's face look up. "If you want..."

"You...you're willing to join us?" His eyebrows stood up. Claire hadn't expected to give in either, but it was Sunday and she didn't have much to do except complete a few orders, which she could easily do in the evening.

"If you don't mind," she smiled. Bryan laughed out of relief. Grace appeared from behind her dad, the pout gone. "I'm not going to shop, though. I can just....tag along."

Grace giggled, came up to her and put her arms around her hips. Bryan stared fondly as she picked her up, gave her a cuddle.

"It's early shopping," he explained. "We usually shop till Christmas Eve." He laughed. "Grace loves to go shopping."

"Uh-huh?" Claire smiled, looking at her face. "Typical girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Totally." He looked around, found other kids leaving the building. "It isn't against the rule, right? You won't be in trouble for seeing us outside the institute?"

"No." Claire put Grace down. She walked up to her dad and held his hand again. "It's fine. There's no problem."

"Okay." Bryan nodded. "Can I pick you up from somewhere?"

Claire thought for some time. "There's a Starbucks a few metres from here," she pointed to her right. Bryan nodded. "I'll be waiting there. Or if you're early, you can wait."

"Sure. By when will you be done?"

"About eleven. Would that be okay?"

"Yes. I'll pick you up at...eleven thirty?"

"Okay," she nodded. Bryan smiled, looking down at Grace. She was still smiling, delighted.

"We'll see you tomorrow then," Bryan said, beginning to walk out. "Say bye, Grace."

"Bye-bye," Grace giggled, waving at her. Claire waved back, smiling. Bryan smiled, turned around with a very happy Grace, and walked out the gate. Once Grace was secured in the backseat, Bryan turned to look at her. Claire found her heart suddenly beating faster. There was nothing unusual in his gaze, just fondness and relief. But it wasn't that.

Claire didn't know what it was. Only she found herself standing there smiling stupidly long after the car had disappeared from sight. Then she turned and walked back in, hardly feeling like she'd broken down only minutes ago.

*

The house was cute. It was smallish, okay for a single person or a retired couple, but it was cute. Claire felt so herself, although she did think sometimes she was only echoing Pauline.

"Fireplace!"

She heard her voice in the living room, wandered in to find Pauline staring at the fireplace like she had never seen one before. Claire rolled her eyes.

"You've got one at yours," she smirked. "Please don't look like you want to take this home."

The rental agent smiled brightly and started to waffle on about how it was gas and would be nice and easy to run. Pauline was already poking around the kitchen. "You like this one?" she asked.

She had little to dislike about the place. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, garage, and a slice of open space in front. Pauline had picked the house for her, said one of her friends lived close by, and then reasoned that she wouldn't get another furnished house at the rate. Claire was eager to move out and be on her own, and given this was under eight hundred a month, she could just as well end up choosing this one.

"I like the rooms," she said, peeking into the main bedroom. The windows were big and had planters.

"I like everything!" Pauline came back out of the kitchen, looking excited as she hopped from one end of the house to another.

"I'm the one who's going to live here, though." Claire said, poking her head inside the bathroom. Neat, light-filled, and not smelly.

"You don't like it?"

"I do. It's reasonable."

"It's cute."

"Right. Cute." Claire went over to the large window of the living room, overlooking the street. Pauline shook her head.

"If you're choosing a place, you might as well look excited about it." Pauline sighed, coming up to stand beside her. "I remember how excited you were when we were buying our house... It feels forced if you aren't happy about what you're doing."

"I'm okay." Claire looked at the time. She hadn't forgotten Bryan was picking her up at eleven thirty. "I choose this one," she finally said. "It suits me."

"It does!" Pauline lunged forward and hugged her, squealing. Then they talked to the agent, confirmed the booking, and then Claire paid a month's rent in advance after filling the forms.

"Congratulations," Pauline smiled as they walked to her car. "This is your new home. When do you want to move?"

"I don't have any furniture, so, anytime." Claire got into the passenger seat, fastened her seat belt. "You've got to drop me at Starbucks on Wood Street. I'm meeting a customer."

"Oh. Okay." Pauline started her car. "Peter and I are having a couple of friends tonight. You'll be there, right?"

Claire shrugged. "I'll probably just stay in my room and work. I wouldn't like to flaunt I'm living at my brother's house at 27."

Pauline only shook her head, like tired of hearing and telling the same thing. So was Claire. Tired of a life that still wasn't sorted.

"Shit." Pauline gripped the steering wheel, closing her eyes for a fleeting moment. She suddenly looked pale.

"Are you okay?" Claire reached out a hand, steadying her. "Just...stop by the side. Stop."

"I'm fine," she said, stopping nevertheless. "It's just...you know..."

"You're a little sweaty," Claire observed. "What's happening?"

"Cramps." She patted her abdomen, took deep breaths as she bit her lip. "I'm due in a few days, so..."

"Can you drive?" She asked. "I can take your car. Ask Peter to get you home."

"I'll be okay," she nodded. "I've to meet a few friends." She smiled, started the car again. "Starbucks, right?" Claire nodded. "Great. Let's go."

It was a few minutes to eleven-thirty when Claire was dropped at Starbucks. She had asked Pauline to inform her once she reached wherever she had to. She looked pale and sickly, and Claire was certain she was coming down with something.

"Hey there!"

The familiar black car stopped in front of the glass door of Starbucks. Grace waved vigorously, while Bryan smiled, beckoning her to come in. Claire walked up to the car with a smile on her face, had Bryan unlock and open the passenger door for her.

"Hey." She smiled at him, fastening her seat belt. Then she turned to look back. "Hi Grace. How are you?"

"Good!" she beamed, excited about going to shop. "You want to share my ice-cream?" She held up her half-eaten, partially melted ice-cream cone. Claire laughed softly.

"No, thank you, Grace." She looked in front again, squinting when the sun shone on her face. "I think you should finish that fast. It's melting."