A Touch of Grace

Grace put the toys back inside the box, closing the flaps. She held the box protectively to her chest, while Claire put her card inside her bag.

"Let's go." Claire put an arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the room. Claire saw Bryan from the hallway, beckoned him to come in.

"Look, daddy. Miss Claire gave me airplanes for Christmas." Grace excitedly held up the box. Bryan smiled, looked at her.

"That's great." He held her gaze, and Claire suddenly felt her cheeks going hot. "That's...nice of you."

"It's Christmas," she brushed it off. "What's Christmas without gifts?"

She'd already distributed the gifts among the other kids, who were equally delighted to get them. The other volunteers also got gifts for the children on the last day before Christmas, and then they would distribute candies as well.

"Come." Claire called, walking towards the hall. "The show's about to begin. Take your seats."

The show was lovely. A few songs, a small play. There were so many children from all walks of life; there were visually disabled kids who couldn't see but still enjoyed the show by clapping their hands and singing along, there were kids with autism and those with cerebral palsy.

And there was Grace.

Claire understood what Bryan had once said about her not fitting in with other special children. She was the most normal among all the kids there. She could talk, sing, see, and walk normally. Yet her lifespan could be the shortest.

She shook her head, shifting her attention to the song being performed on stage. From the sidelines, she saw Bryan smiling, chatting with the parents next to him. He was the only single parent there although it bothered no one. He did look good in that leather jacket, with back denims and leather sneakers. The colour seemed to make his broad frame appear even bigger. Grace looked small on his lap, like a tiny angel.

"Claire?"

She turned to find Melanie there.

"Hi Mel," she smiled, "This is great. I didn't know they'd put in so much effort."

"I did." She came closer, cupped her face. "They wanted to do something on their own without seniors helping them. They did fine."

"They did, yeah."

"I remember you were like them someday. Barely out of college yet full of passion for doing something for these kids." She glanced at the stage, where the final leg of the show was in full swing. "I cannot explain how much you mean to Blooming Buds. You really help the buds bloom."

"Mel, you're exaggerating," she laughed shyly.

"I am?" she raised an eyebrow. "Considering how well Grace has turned out in the last few months?"

"She's a good child." Claire smiled. "With a little help, any child will do well."

The show was ending. Loud cheering filled the hall, the children and their parents equally delighted. Grace was also clapping, so was her dad.

"I'll see you in my office, okay?" Melanie was walking away. "Have fun."

Claire walked down to the hall, helped distribute candies. She wouldn't see her kids until the new year, so she tried to make up for it by cuddling them as much as she could. The parents spoke to her, wished her Merry Christmas. Some of the kids excitedly shared their Christmas plans with her. Claire gave them a bag of candies each.

When she turned, she saw Bryan and Grace in the distance, chatting to a set of parents with another little girl. He looked at her at the same moment, and Claire found herself blushing. She smiled, found his gaze rolling over her, and suddenly she wished she hadn't worn that figure-hugging tunic.

"Hey." He walked up to her when the other child and her parents had left. "You look busy."

Grace had a bag of candies in her hand which she wasn't eating like a good child, and Claire handed her another. The gift she had given her was in Bryan's hands now.

"Last days and first days are always busy," she smiled. "Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yes." Bryan looked down at Grace, smiling. "She could barely stop singing."

"Just the intention," she laughed. "Did you have fun, Grace?"

Grace nodded, coming up to hug her hips. Claire picked her up, smiling.

"I'll see you in the new year, okay?" She said, giving her a cuddle. "Enjoy the holidays."

Grace nodded again, giggling. Bryan laughed.

"We still have to deck the tree," he sighed. "I should've known what a task it'd be when she chose that huge tree."

"It's fun," Grace quipped.

"Oh, yes," he rolled his eyes. "Give your old daddy a break, yeah?"

"You're not old," Claire piped in, smirking. Bryan smiled at her, then laughed.

"Have you moved to your new place?" he asked.

"No. Tomorrow."

"New home before Christmas. How cool is that?"

Claire shrugged. "Not my own place, is it?"

"Of course it is. A home is a home." He checked the time. "Come on, baby. We got to go. Grandma's waiting."

Grace kissed Claire's cheek and scrambled down from her arms, going up to her daddy.

"Wish Merry Christmas to Miss Claire," he said to her.

"Merry Christmas," she said shyly.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie," Claire leaned, kissed her cheek. "Be good, okay?"

Bryan looked at her, hesitating. "We'll see you when you reopen, then," he smiled. "Have a good time."

"You too." Claire walked out with them, seeing them till the car. Once Grace was in the backseat, Bryan shut the door and faced her.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "No crying anymore, okay?"

Claire laughed, nodding. She stared at him, remembered how those gentle hands and broad shoulder had comforted her the other day. Bryan did remind her of a big, soft pillow, like the one she had as a child, until her mom thought she was too old for it and threw it away.

"Take care," she smiled. "Have fun."

He nodded, got behind the wheel. Grace waved at her, she waved back.

"Merry Christmas," Bryan said, starting the car. Claire felt something rushing within her, her breath catching for no apparent reason. She folded her arms around herself and smiled.

"Merry Christmas."

*

Christmas was torture. It usually was for Claire, only this time it seemed emptier. Claire mostly remained home, arranging things in her new house, making decorations for the walls, and watching movies on her computer. She left the house only to visit her brother and his wife, but it did not help that her parents were also visiting.

Peter had told their parents nothing about Claire's breakup, so when the big revelation came over Christmas dinner, she had to face a barrage of questions from her mother.

It didn't last for long though, because her mother soon moved on to other topics; how Mr A's son was getting married to a really beautiful and accomplished girl, how Mrs B's daughter had moved to New York on a prestigious scholarship, and that Mr and Mrs X's son was home for Christmas and would be a good fit for her. Only that he was still a night janitor at a restaurant.

Claire had wanted to crawl under the table and cry.

Pauline had reached across the table and squeezed her hand, but Claire had still left dinner midway and gone home.

"I can't believe I spent Christmas without drinking at all," Pauline exclaimed, hanging a painting above the fireplace. It was three days after Christmas, but the house was still not in order. "Yeah, I know it's the right thing to do, but I hadn't thought I'd be able to stick to it." She gave a small giggle. "Maybe I am indeed ready for a baby. Claire?"

She turned, found Claire nowhere. With a sigh, she went inside, saw her sister-in-law standing in front of a wall in her bedroom.

"Hey." She leaned against the door. "What are you smiling stupidly about?"

Claire turned, still smiling. Pauline saw the reason behind the smile: a pretty, hand drawn card that she'd put up on the wall.

"That's so cute," she smiled, coming closer. "Who drew—oh, it's from Grace!"

"Hmm-mm. Doesn't she draw well?"

"Yes. You taught her?"

"She was already good at it. I just encouraged her."

"Humble." Pauline nudged her with her elbow. "Is this why you have that smart-arse grin on your face?"

Claire frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you seem different the last few days." Pauline chuckled. "Happier, in a way."

"I've moved to a new house. Shouldn't I be happy?"

"Yes, you should." She followed Claire, sat beside her on the bed. "But I think it's more than that."

"I don't know what you mean..." Claire rolled her eyes.

"You do!" Pauline laughed, nudging her again. "Bryan's good to you, isn't he?"

"Pauline..." She shook her head, laughing.

"You're blushing. Oh my! I haven't seen you blushing in ages." She clapped happily. "That means something is up."

"No!" Claire left the bed, went over to the window. "Your man is here."

"Oh." Pauline rose, searching for her jacket. "I've put the painting above the fireplace. Have a look."

"Pauline, you should be thinking of yourself right now, not about my house." Claire held her hands. "Although I am glad for all that you do for me... But you're having a baby. It's more important."

"I'm fine, please." Pauline laughed. "I don't like the way you two keep fussing over me. It's not like I'm sick or something."

"You were really sick this morning, though. Peter sounded very anxious."

"I'm supposed to be sick." Pauline had already been in her eighth week when she discovered she was pregnant. In her tenth week now, she showed all signs of early pregnancy— from fatigue to sickness to unpredictable mood swings. She also regularly complained about not being able to fit into her skinny jeans anymore.

"You guys are just worriers," she added, heading into the living room when the doorbell rang. Peter came in, kissed his wife. He was terribly excited ever since he got to know they were having a baby. He'd also become very strict with Pauline. So even if she wanted to, she couldn't drink, because he'd chucked away alcohol from the house.

"We'll be off now." Peter said, hugging her. "You're taking care of yourself, right?"

"Stop worrying about me." Claire threw her hands up, laughing. "You have her to take care of now."

"Oh please." Pauline rolled her eyes. Peter laughed, kissed her, and then helped his wife with her jacket.

"We're having my parents tonight," Pauline said, opening the door. "You want to join us?"

Claire remembered the last time she'd met her parents. She'd made spiced tea for them with a generous helping of coriander, instead of cinnamon, albeit mistakenly. They'd taken a sip and kept exclaiming 'so bitter so bitter' until she'd had a sip and almost thrown up.

"No, I'm good," she said. "Just watching a movie tonight."

Peter and Pauline nodded, hugged her, and then drove off. All alone in a house she still wasn't used to, she headed into her new bedroom and opened her laptop.

Her phone rang.

She fumbled the phone off the night table, not even looking at the caller ID. So she was a bit surprised when a familiar voice spoke.

"Claire?"

She didn't know how to reply, sat with her mouth open for a long time, brain totally disengaged. It wasn't until she heard her name again that she swallowed, tried to get her tongue moving, and managed to reply.

"...Brad?"

"Hey." The voice was soft, unsure. "Hi. Um..."

"Hi." She managed. "What, umm..."

"I..." There was a laugh. "Sorry. Hi. I was just... I was going through my missed calls and I realised you'd... I just thought I'd check in case it was important or..." Claire felt herself go bright red. There was a swallow on the other end. "Anyway."

"Oh I... I didn't. Call. Erm." It was a lie, but damn it. "Maybe I accidentally pressed the wrong key or something. Sorry."

"No. That's... fine." Brad sighed, sounding about as relieved as Claire felt. Just as uncomfortable too. "Okay. Well. I'll um... see you, then."

"Yeah." She agreed.

"Yeah."

"Right." Claire swallowed. "Hey... how long were you cheating on me?" She said it without thinking. Didn't know if she wanted to know the answer. But the time for politeness was dead and gone.

"...I..."

"How long?" Her own voice sounded flat and hard to her ears.

"I..." There was a heavy pause. Claire felt her heart claw up the inside of her throat. "Six months." he said quietly. "On and off. Mostly off. It was just..." He sighed. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Claire hung up on him. Threw the phone at the wall.

She was sat on the floor, curled up into a ball when the phone rang again. She fumed, all ready to shout at him, but when she pieced her phone back together, it was a different number.

"Hi. What's up?" Bryan's voice was cheerful on the other end. Claire swallowed, tried to make herself talk. She couldn't.

"Are you there?" he asked, the smile going from his voice. "Claire?"

She closed her eyes, swallowed again. He'd said her name for the first time, and she felt it affecting her hard.

"Yeah...hi." She finally managed. "How are you?"

"Are you alright?" His voice was concerned now.

"Yes...I'm...just..." She leaned against the wall, tears spouting in her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Is everything okay? You sound different."

"I'm okay. Please." He blinked to make the tears go away. "How's Grace?"

"Actually, I called because she wanted to talk to you," his smile seemed back. "Over to you, baby."

The next moment, the voice changed.

"Miss Claire?"

"Grace." The tears rolled down her cheeks now. It had only been a few days, but it seemed like ages since she'd last heard her sweet voice. She made her happy. Just the sound of her voice, her little giggle was enough to make her happy. "How're you, sweetie?"

"Great," she beamed. Then she coughed. Claire frowned.

"Are you sick, Grace?" she asked, "Why are you coughing?"

"I have a cold." She sneezed, then coughed again. Claire heard Bryan near her, stroking her back, asking her to drink some water. But she continued to talk. "Miss Claire, I've made a paper airplane," she said happily. "All by myself."

"That's great," Claire found herself smiling. "What colour is it?"

"Red, with a yellow nose. It's hanging from the window in my room." She coughed again. Claire felt worried. She sounded really unwell. "I've finished painting the colouring books you gave me. Daddy got me a few more. I will—"

She coughed, unable to talk anymore.

"Grace, we'll talk later, okay?" Claire said. "You're unwell. You become okay, then we'll talk again. Alright?"

"Alright. I miss you, Miss Claire."

"Oh, baby. I miss you too." Claire tried to hold back the tears, but couldn't. She dropped her head back against the wall, closed her eyes. "Take care of yourself, okay? Give the phone to your daddy now, please."

She did. Bryan was on the line again.

"Is she unwell?" She asked.

"Yes. She has a cold. Her immune system isn't very strong. She catches a cold very easily."

"Nothing serious, right?" Claire felt her heart beating faster when she asked that.

"No. Just a cold. She's better now. Don't worry."

"Oh. Okay." She heaved a sigh. "I was so afraid..."

Bryan smiled. "You care about her, I know," he said. "We care about you too."

"We?"

"Yes. Me and her." There was a pause, hung heavy in the air for a few moments. "Umm..I..well...Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yeah...Why?"

"Umm...I was wondering if you'd want to meet...you know...just you and I..."

"Oh." Like a date. Bryan was asking her out on a date. Was she lucky, or was she lucky?

"Anything special?" she managed.

"No...not really. Just a walk, a laugh. Maybe a drink... You know...just hang out." He hesitated. "Grace will be with my parents so I'll be free..."

"Umm...okay." It couldn't harm. She liked Bryan for some reason. He was a nice man. It would be better than sitting at home and being useless. "What time?"

"You tell me. Would six be okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"Should I pick you up?"

"No..I...It's okay. Tell me where to meet. I'll turn up."

"Okay." He thought for a while. "How about Starbucks like the other day?"

"That'd be good. Okay...yeah...so..."

"Tomorrow. At six. Right?"

"Right." She breathed in, feeling her heart pumping too fast. "See you then."

"Great. Take care."

"You too. Bye."

"Bye."

Her grip loosened, the phone slid down. Then she sagged against the wall, like she couldn't catch her breath.

*

"Why did you even ask?"

"Don't know." Claire shrugged. "I mean, I knew he had, I'd seen him in the act but maybe I just wanted to hear him say it. Just to be honest or..." She shook her head. "Stupid me, right?"

"Not your cleverest move." Bryan smirked. They had met in front of Starbucks, then started walking. It was nice, walking with him, sharing light and easy moments. When the previous evening came up in conversation, Claire admitted about Brad's phone call and what she'd asked him.

Bryan was comforting. Kind of sexy in a warm, gentle way. Brad had been all braun and raw masculinity. Bryan was more gentlemanly, more...real.

"It's more than five months," she sighed. "I should be over this."

"You haven't allowed yourself to." Bryan held her hand for a moment. It made her pulse race, skin tingle. "You still think about him?"

"No...not really...no." She stopped by the side of the pavement, looked up at his face. "I just feel so miserable sometimes. That he did this to me. Like I wasn't good enough..."

"Don't be stupid. You're amazing." Bryan put a friendly arm around her shoulder, as they started to walk again. The evening was nice and cosy, so it felt good taking an aimless walk. Bryan was in a beige jumper, with a scarf in a once-around loop. Claire didn't know his height for sure, but he would definitely be very tall. Like 6'5" or something. Which was funny, because Claire was also tall. But her 5'7" was nothing beside him.

"So Grace falls ill frequently?" she asked, walking along a relatively quiet and empty stretch of the sidewalk.

"Not frequently," he replied. "But she's weak from within, and winter's a bad time for her. We keep her as warm and toasty as possible, but she's still attacked by viruses."

"She makes me feel so small, you know," she said quietly. "I mean, here I am trying to get over a stupid breakup, while little kids like her are fighting much harder battles... I could learn a thing or two from her..."

"Each person's battle is their own." Bryan smiled down at her, shoving his hands inside his pant pockets. "To you your breakup is hard, to us her condition is hard. No one is less significant than the other. Right?"

Claire shrugged, then smiled. "She's a brave girl," she said. "You're a brave dad."

"If you were in my place, you'd have no other choice but to be brave." He sighed, smiling wistfully. "Although I'd never wish this upon anyone."

"It wasn't in your hands."

"Yes...but...I don't know...I feel like I..." He stopped when he sighted a pub. "You want a drink?"

"Okay." Claire headed for the pub with him, momentarily holding his hand while they made through the crowd. Once they were at the bar, she laughed.

"I can't believe the place is so crowded," she looked around the bar, scanning the drinks. "I hope we get an empty corner."

"Empty corner in a pub is hard to find," he rubbed his chin, laughing. "We'll find a place, don't worry. So...what is your poison?"

"On a regular day, whiskey. At a pub it's good old gimlet."

"Classy. Mine is a Scotch Whisky on a regular day. Right now, I'd like a Rob Roy. You?"

"Umm...can I have a Sidecar?"

"Of course you can. God, you don't need my permission," he laughed aloud, so did she. Bryan ordered one Rob Roy and one Sidecar, exclaiming how crowded the pub indeed was. There were people thronging the bar, and Bryan moved closer to her to shield her from a couple of unruly men. When their drinks arrived, he held her hand again, taking her to the end of the pub, where they found a fairly empty corner with small tables and chairs.