Gracie's Story: Chapter One

For everyone who has been patiently waiting for the final Home book, here is the first chapter of Gracie's story (the book is still untitled as of yet). The final book tells the story of Jesse and Riley's daughter, Gracie, as well as Wyatt, who is the son of Brandon and Mandy. Mandy's son she gave up for adoption in "Finding Home", Aaron is also in this story. Enjoy!

One

I liked living in the country.  I think I got that from my dad.  I definitely didn’t get it from my mom.  She’d lived in Boston until she was seventeen and from what I understand had detested Kansas when she first moved here.  She eventually grew to love it, but my mom was still a city girl at heart.  My dad was an entirely different story though.  He’d been born and raised in Carver, only a couple of miles down the road from our house actually.  He’d spent his childhood hunting and fishing with his dad and from what I’ve been told, he won my mom’s heart in the same spot I sat now: the old dock that protruded out into the pond just a short walk from our front door.  I liked coming out here, especially on days like this: a cloud covered sky with a hint of humidity that wrapped itself around me like a warm hug.  Just me and the quiet that was the five acres I called home. 

I had missed the quiet like this.  I’d spent the last nine months trying to study over the sounds of the dorms.  I could still recall the late night parties and stuffing cotton in my ears to block out the sounds from my nymphomaniac roommate and whatever loser she’d brought home with her.  Kayla was just a memory now…thank God, because next year, I’d have a new roommate and I could only pray she’d be there to study and not sleep with anything with a pulse.  Wishful thinking probably, but a girl could dream. 

 I hadn’t been home since Christmas and it’d been too cold to sit out by the pond.  That was the crazy thing about Kansas.  It was blazing hot in the summer and ruthlessly cold in the winter.  As I stared out to the pond, enjoying the silence, I thought back to how it’d been when I was a kid. Growing up an only child, the quiet was all I’d known.  I was used to finding ways to keep myself occupied.  It wasn’t a hard thing to do when you had the space of the Kansas countryside at your fingertips and a best friend at your side who made finding mischief easy, which was probably not a good thing in retrospect. 

Going away to college had been harder than I’d expected because my best friend hadn’t been there to keep me company.  I’d gone to the University of Washington, per my parents encouragement.  It was my dad’s alma mater and both of them wanted me to have an experience outside of Kansas, although truthfully, I would’ve been fine staying closer to home.  I’d only agreed to UW because my brainiac best friend had been accepted to MIT and if he was going to be all the way in Massachusetts, it didn’t matter if I was in Kansas or Washington, and like my parents had said, a new experience would be a good thing.

Overall, it had been, despite my slutty roommate and living in a sea of hipsters, but I was glad to be home in Kansas and I loved the quiet.  As I leaned back onto the dock, staring up at the gray sky, I couldn’t wait for the eight months to be just a memory, and when I heard the sound of tires rumbling down the dirt road, I knew that time was here, and I bolted up.

“Dammit!” I winced, realizing I’d moved so fast that I caused a splinter from the old dock to imbed itself into my pointer finger.  My finger went instinctively to my mouth, the warm and salty taste of the blood hitting my tongue.  I only held it there for a second before wiping my finger on my cut-offs.  When I turned towards the road, I saw the familiar pick-up coming towards me and I felt a smile growing on my face.  It’d been too long since the old red truck had made its way down the road.  It’d been in his parents’ driveway since he left for MIT.  I’d been home for a few days and when I drove past his house, I couldn’t help but think it seemed lonely sitting there, waiting for Wyatt to return just like I was. 

As he got closer, I could see his silhouette in the driver’s side and I found myself walking towards the truck as if that would somehow get him here faster.  It wasn’t as if he was my only friend, but he was definitely my best friend, always had been. 

I’d probably be friends with Wyatt even if our friendship hadn’t been forced upon us.  Our parents had been friends since high school, so it was only natural that Wyatt and I would be friends.  Our families had always done things together: cookouts, vacations, holidays.  It’s just the way it’d always been, just like my friendship with Wyatt. 

The truck stopped at the edge of the pond, only the ten feet of the dock separating us and when the door opened and he stepped out, I started moving quicker and a second later, my bare feet were on the banks of the pond, pebbles pushing into the soles of my feet and blades of grass threading between my toes, but I didn’t care.  Wyatt was only a few feet from me now when for the past nine months, he’d been a million miles away. 

He was grinning as he leaned against the truck in a pair of long khaki shorts and white t-shirt, his hair tucked under a beat up black ball cap and I felt myself stop in my tracks when I saw him.

“What the hell happened to you?” I laughed.

“What’re you talking about?” he balked.

“Did they give you steroids along with your lunch at MIT?”

He just grinned wider, the right side of his mouth inching a little higher than the left and when he folded his arms across his chest, it accentuated the muscles I’d never seen before.

“You talkin’ about my guns?” He unfolded his arms, flexing them like a body builder and I rolled my eyes. 

“You’re such an idiot,” I sighed, finally taking the final steps towards him now that I’d processed my best friend’s new physique.  Wyatt had always been tall and skinny.  In junior high, you might’ve even called him scrawny.  He’d filled out a little since then, to the point I stopped making fun of him, but I’d never expected to see the Wyatt Seaver that stood in front of me now. 

“I haven’t seen you in nine months and you greet me with insults upon my return,” he said and I shook my head, walking over to him and touching his arm, surprised at how strong it was.

“Seriously,” I said, giving it another squeeze. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, yanking his arm away from my curious hand and he couldn’t hide the slight blush on his cheeks. “I started going to the gym.”

 “Well…you look…” I said, at a loss for words. “You look…” I wanted to say amazing or even a little hot, but I couldn’t do it.  That would be too weird. “You look different,” I finally settled on and I thought he looked a little deflated at my words. 

“I could say the same for you.”

“I don’t look different.”

“Yeah, you do.  Your hair’s shorter.”

“I only got like three inches cut off,” I said defensively.

“That’s three inches too many,” he said, reaching over and flipping a piece of my dark brown hair that fell to the middle of my back now instead of almost to my waist how it had when we’d last seen each other . “Just so you know, I like it better longer and I think your boobs are bigger too.”  He started laughing and I balled my hand into a fist, punching him hard on his now solid forearm. 

“Since when do you look at my boobs?”

“Since they started looking like that,” he grinned, raising his eyes up and down a few times like a stupid cartoon character.  I looked down at my chest, thinking it looked the same as it always had, but then I thought maybe my t-shirt was a little tighter than it used to be.  I just crossed my arms and glared at him. He brushed by me then and started walking towards my house. I sped up and followed at his side. 

“Where’re your parents?” he asked, flinging the screen door open and stepping into the kitchen.

“Mom’s at work and Dad’s at the shooting range.”

“I don’t get your dad.  Isn’t one of the perks of being a teacher is having the summers off?”

“Well, yeah, but you know my dad.  He’s gotta stay busy.  He’s also teaching summer school, but he likes to help Uncle Glenn out when he can,” I said, referring to my great uncle who was basically the only family my dad had left.  I’d been told Uncle Glenn was driving the car that killed my grandpa, which basically killed my parents’ relationship.  My dad ran off  and joined the Marines after my grandpa’s death and my mom fell in love with someone else, but when Wyatt’s dad lost his leg in Afghanistan, my dad came back and my parents fell in love again.  From what I’d gathered over the years from their stories and the boxes of their memories, journals and pictures and letters, I’d snuck peaks at in the garage, I guess their love story was epic.  They still stared at each other across the table during dinner and kissed way more than I was comfortable with and I didn’t even want to think about what they did when their bedroom door was closed, which was entirely too often for my liking.  I think they were ecstatic to have the house to themselves when I left for Seattle, and I refused to think about what they’d done since I’d been gone.  However, despite all of my personal feelings towards seeing the affections of my parents, they’d shown me true love is possible and even lasting.

“That’s definitely like your father,” Wyatt said as he started rifling through the fridge, pulling out a Coke and then going to the cupboard for a bag of Doritos. 

“Make yourself at home,” I said with a laugh and a hint of sarcasm and he just grinned before walking out of the kitchen, chips and soda in hands.  I followed him as he made his way down the hall, not bothering to ask before he opened my bedroom door and walked in. “Why do you think you can just do whatever you want in my house?”

“Because I’ve been doing it for the past seventeen years.”

He had made himself comfortable on my bed, even kicking off his shoes. I sat on the bed beside him, grabbing the bag of chips from him and popping one in my mouth.

“All joking aside,” I began. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, popping open the Coke. He took a drink and then handed it to me so I could take a drink.

“And I’m glad you’re home,” I said, catching hint of his fresh scent. “Since when do you wear cologne?”

“I dunno,” he said, grabbing the Coke back from me, taking a long swig and then setting the soda back down. “I’ve been wearing it for a while.”

“I’ve never smelled it on you.”

“Then you obviously haven’t smelled me enough.  What’s the big deal?  Does it reek or something?”

“No,” I said quickly. “It smells good.  You just seem different is all.  The muscles and now the cologne.”

“And the hair,” he said suddenly, taking off his hat and I burst out laughing when he shook his head, revealing dark blonde waves. 

“What the hell did you do?”

“I kinda like the shaggy look, don’t you?”

“No!  Not at all!”  Wyatt always kept his hair short and neat, but now it was anything but.  I usually didn’t notice the waves in his hair, but now that it was grown out and hanging over his ears and across his forehead, I did notice and I didn’t like it. “Please tell me you’re cutting that soon.”

“I haven’t decided yet.  I think I kinda like it.”

“I’m telling you right now, Wyatt, this is not a good look for you.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you then.”

“Whatever.  Walk around looking like an idiot.  See if I care.”

“You must care because you’re getting so worked up.”

“Well, maybe I do care.  I’m the one who has to be seen with you.”

“Then hang out with someone else,” he scoffed and he hopped up from the bed and started walking out the door. “Where’re you going?” I asked and he stopped in the doorway, turning to face me, the bag of chips still in his hands.

“I’m taking me and my shaggy hair home, where it’s appreciated.  My mom’s just glad to have me home.  She doesn’t care what my hair looks like.”

I got off the bed quickly, following him down the hall, catching up with him and grabbing his arm.

“Don’t go, Wyatt,” I said. “You just got here and I don’t want you to leave yet.  I won’t tease you about your hair anymore.  It’s actually kinda cute…if you like that sort of look.”

“I know you’re just trying to charm me, Grace,” he said, using my formal name.  Like everyone else, he always called me Gracie…unless he was trying to be serious or funny.  I couldn’t tell which one he was trying to be.

“Perhaps I am, but I really don’t want you to go.  Please stay.”

He turned and continued walking, putting the chips back in the cupboard and then turning back to me. 

“Sorry.  I’ve gotta go.  Mom’s making me a special dinner for my return.  My favorite, spaghetti pie. I just wanted to come by and see you real quick.  I know you’ve been waiting with baited breath for my return and now that you’ve seen me, I need to get home and unpack and possibly think about cutting my hair,” he said with a sly grin that brought a smile to my face. “Call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, not wanting him to go, but feeling a little special that he’d rushed over to see me before he’d even unpacked.

“Bye, Gracie,” he said and then turned, opening the screen door to head back to his truck.

“Wait, Wyatt!” I called to him as I quickly walked over to the door, looking at him standing at the bottom of the porch stairs, his image grainy through the screen.  He stopped and looked up at me. “I’m really glad you’re home,” I said, smiling down at my best friend, not realizing just how much I’d missed him until he was leaving again.

“Me too, Gracie.”

He smiled at me and then I opened the door, stepping onto the porch and down the steps until I stood in front of him by his truck.  I didn’t think about what I was doing and I wrapped my arms around him.  I could sense his surprise because his arms remained at his side.  I wasn’t much of a hugger, but I couldn’t help myself.  For the past seventeen years I’d taken him for granted, assuming he’d always be there because he always had been…until he left and I left and I didn’t comprehend how much I’d missed him until he was back, until we were both back, just like it’d always been for my entire life and I didn’t want to let him go. 

He must’ve gotten over his surprise because his arms were around me too a moment later, slowly at first.  He seemed tense though as my cheek pressed against his chest and I didn’t care that I was making him uncomfortable.  I just wanted to know he was there.  I didn’t want to totally weird him out though and I pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at him and he was looking at me curiously.

“You okay?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and reaching over and brushing my arm with his fingertips.   

“Yeah, yeah,” I said quickly, wiping at my eye. I could feel a tear coming and I had no clue why.

“You look like you’re about to cry or something.” I could tell my sudden weepiness had made him uncomfortable.

“I just…I just really missed you, Wyatt.  Like crazy missed you.” I breathed in deeply and I was able to hold back the tears, but his expression softened and it was he who pulled me to him, but this time, his arms weren’t stiff or confused.  They were welcoming and warm and they felt like home.

“I crazy missed you too, Gracie,” he said softly and I smiled, squeezing him extra hard before I let go and he pulled back. “Tomorrow night…we’ll hang out. I’ve got the family thing tonight, but tomorrow night, I’m all yours, okay?”

“Okay,” I grinned and then he smiled at me before he walked away.  I watched the whole way until he climbed into his pick-up and waved before pulling away, complete contentment washing over me for the first time in since the day we’d both left Carver.  Wyatt, my best friend, was back, which meant everything was back to the way it should be and I couldn’t be happier.