Chapter 12

Gracen

My phone dings and I grab it off my dresser to take a quick peek. Instantly my stomach churns and my hands start to sweat. Another text from Owen.

I demand that you call me. We have to talk.

This is one of his nicer messages. The voicemails and texts I’ve received from him over the last two days since I told him the wedding was off have ranged from begging to downright threatening. I know I’m a coward not to answer him, but I just can’t bring myself to talk to him in any form. My hope is he’ll just give up and leave me alone. I sent an email to the bank’s manager inquiring how to set up monthly payments on the note, and I’m hoping this stays far downwind of Owen. He doesn’t personally oversee the mortgage department, so I’m hoping I can put a Band-Aid on this mess and he won’t know any different.

The front doorbell rings downstairs and my hands get even sweatier, because that’s going to be Marek’s parents, Gale and Joan. They insisted on getting a rental car from the airport to Marek’s house so they could have transportation while they were here for their visit. Marek insisted on running out for bagels a little bit ago and said he was taking Lilly. He’s still not back yet, and I know he planned this to give me a little time with his parents before they met Lilly. I’m dreading dealing with the fallout, but I deserve it.

I tuck my phone into my back pocket and trot down the stairs to let them in. My chest is squeezing painfully, just like when I first saw Marek two weeks ago when he came to stop my wedding. The memories of losing his parents’ love hits me as hard right now at the prospect of seeing them. I loved them dearly, and they loved me as well. After Marek broke things off, I couldn’t bring myself to see them anymore. I cut all ties, and we lived in a big enough town we never ran into each other when they were in residence over the summer.

As I cut left off the bottom of the staircase to move through the formal room, my breath hitches as I see them standing on the other side of the double doors, which are mostly clear glass and framed by dark stained wood. Gale—tall and powerfully built like Marek—and Joan, with that trademark curly dark hair and crystal blue eyes. They lock eyes with me through the glass and I take a deep breath as I open the door and swing it open.

We stare at each other for a moment, then before I know it, Joan is through the door and wrapping me up in a warm, all-encompassing hug. It catches me by surprise, and for a second, my body locks stiffly. My eyes cut to Gale as he walks in, and I see an understanding there.

I hug Joan in return and squeeze her hard as I mumble, “I’m so sorry.”

“Just stop it,” she murmurs back, giving me a squeeze. When she pulls back, she puts her hands to my face and studies me. “No apologies.”

I shake my head. “It was wrong. I deprived you two and Marek of so much.”

“Did you do it spitefully?” Joan asks, her warm palms upon my cheeks giving me much-needed security.

“No.”

“Do you regret it?”

“More than you’ll ever know,” I assure her with a quavering voice.

Again, those blue eyes hold mine, the gentleness within them causing my chest to loosen slightly. “I am sure you had your reasons, Gracen, and it would be foolish of us to pretend like we could understand them. But I know you, sweet girl. You’d never do something to intentionally hurt Marek or Gale and me. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt your daughter. So I say we start fresh and we let those bygones be bygones. Sound good?”

Sounds utterly fucking amazing, but all I can do is nod with a swollen lump of emotion in my throat.

“Okay,” she says brightly, and steps back from me. I turn to Gale and he opens his arms. He’s the one I expected to be pissed, because while Marek got his mom’s looks, he got his dad’s fiery Lithuanian temper.

Instead, Gale pulls me into a warm hug and gruffly says, “It’s good to see you, Gracen.”

I nod my agreement, again the emotion stealing my voice.

When he releases me, he looks around expectantly. “Where’s Marek and Lilly?”

“I think Marek thought we’d benefit from alone time to talk a bit first, so he took her out to grab us bagels.”

“That’s thoughtful,” Joan remarks brightly as Gale shuts the door behind them. “But clearly unnecessary, since there’s nothing more to talk about on this issue, right?”

“Right.” The corners of my mouth tip upward in amusement at her cheery disposition in the face of such an emotional and somewhat awkward reunion. But just like that, I’m completely at ease, and it makes me love Joan all the more.

“I’ll make some coffee.” I walk to the kitchen, with Gale and Joan following me. “I’m sure Marek will be back soon.”

No sooner do we step foot into the kitchen and Marek and Lilly are walking through the mudroom that connects to the garage. He’s carrying a big bag of bagels and Lilly has a box of apple juice in her hands.

We had talked to Lilly last night and explained about Joan and Gale coming to visit. She understands they’re Marek’s parents, and seemed to accept the concept that she has another set of grandparents other than the ones she’s known all her life. To my already battered heart, Lilly asked if my parents were also coming to visit, and when I told her no, she got a little teary-eyed. I pulled her onto my lap and held her while she lamented missing her Mimi and G-Pa, as she calls them.

I can hear Joan’s breath catch behind me, and I know she’s locked eyes on Lilly and is taking in just how much she looks like Marek and herself. I step to the side to give both Joan and Gale room, and Marek’s hand goes to Lilly’s shoulder, which he squeezes reassuringly.

“Lilly, honey,” I say as she gives Joan and Gale a shy smile. “These are Marek’s parents we told you were coming to visit. This is your grandma Joan and your grandpa Gale.”

Her eyes immediately slide to mine. “They’re not called Mimi and G-Pa?”

Marek chuckles and squats down beside Lilly. She turns to look at him. “You can call them whatever you want, or maybe they might even have an idea for you.”

Joan walks toward Lilly like she’s in a trance. Her first grandchild. Perhaps the only she’ll ever have, who knows? She squats and reaches into her purse. She pulls out a tiny stuffed teddy bear and hands it over. “Hi, Lilly. I’m your grandma Joan and I am so very happy to meet you.”

Lilly takes the bear and gives a warmer smile to Joan.

Gale doesn’t squat, but he bends over to get near eye level with his granddaughter. “Hey, Lilly. You sure are a cute thing.”

Lilly giggles, and I put my hand over my mouth to hide a giggle of my own that wants to come out over watching how gaga Marek’s parents are over her.

“I have a name idea,” he continues. “What do you think about calling us Grammie and Pop-Pop?”

Lilly looks unsure.

Gale points at Joan. “She’s Grammie.”

“And he’s Pop-Pop,” Joan says, jabbing her thumb in Gale’s direction.

“Okay,” Lilly says, her smile going shy again as if she’s a little unsure of what it all means. I know she’ll probably forget these names and will need reminders, but it’s a beautiful start to what I bet is going to be a beautiful relationship.

Reaching out, I take the bag from Marek’s hands and he straightens up as he lets it go. I move around the island counter, removing myself from them so they can have some more intimate time with her. Marek guides them into the living room while I cut the bagels and make coffee. I smile to myself as Lilly pulls out one of her puzzles, and her new Grammie and Pop-Pop sit around the coffee table with her to work on it.

Marek sits on the couch, watching with such happiness on his face that my gut cramps over the potent reminder of everything they’ve all three missed out on.

At least I’ve made it right, and I only hope Marek can one day fully let bygones be bygones the way Joan and Gale seem to be doing.

I’m momentarily stunned midway through cutting a bagel when Marek’s gaze moves from Lilly to me and he winks at me with a genuine smile.

My knife goes down through the bagel and right into the tip of my index finger.

“Shit,” I say all too loudly as the knife clatters to the counter and a drop of blood falls to the half-cut bagel.

“Mommy…that’s a bad word,” Lilly says reproachfully.

And fuck that hurts. I turn to the kitchen sink as I hear Marek say to Lilly, “No, that’s a grown-up word, remember Lilly?”

I grimace at the blood that drips into the sink, but I’m amused to hear Marek say that to Lilly. That means she must have busted him using that word, and he advised her it was a grown-up word and not a “bad” word. Pretty damn smart if you ask me, because I’m sure she’s bound to hear it again from us. I try to keep it clean around Lilly, but sometimes emotion—or pain and blood—derails the best intentions.

Flipping on the cold water, I plunge my finger under it, trying to analyze how bad it is once the water runs clear.

“Let me see it,” I hear Marek from behind me.

His words and nearness cause me to jolt, but more than anything, I’m stunned by the worry in his voice.

For me.

Or, well, for my cut.

He doesn’t even give me a chance to comply or deny, merely takes my wrist and pulls my hand out from under the stream of water. He bends over and looks at the cut that’s no longer leaking blood but I know it would if I were to press on it. The thin red line of the cut is small, but I can’t tell how deep without prodding at it.

“Needs stitches,” Marek says confidently, his voice still laced with genuine concern.

My eyes cut over to Lilly, but she’s engrossed in the puzzle with her grandparents. Since I’m the one with medical training, I use my other hand to pinch at the edges of the cut and it gapes open a little so I can see inside. Blood wells and pools, then slides over my finger.

Marek drops his hold on me and takes a quick step back. I look at him and valiantly manage to hide my amusement as I take in his pale face.

“Forgot you didn’t like blood,” I murmur as I put my finger back under the water to rinse it clean.

“I’ve gotten a little better over the years,” he mutters.

I give a soft laugh and turn off the water before grabbing a paper towel to wrap around my index finger. “I don’t need stitches, but if you have a Band-Aid that would be appreciated.”

“On it,” he says as he strides from the kitchen toward his bedroom.

By the time he returns, I’ve tossed the bloody bagel and I’m holding pressure to the cut while I watch Lilly, Gale, and Joan. They’re naturals at the whole grandparenting thing, showing keen interest in her as she tells them stories while working the puzzle, with Gale intermittently doing silly things to make her giggle.

“Okay, let’s see that finger,” Marek says as he moves around the counter toward me, opening the bandage as he approaches.

I pull off the paper towel and hold my finger out. His tongue peeks out slightly from the corner of his mouth, and I forgot he always did that when he concentrated. Joyful warmth floods through me as I realize Lilly does the same thing—is doing it now as a matter of fact as she tries to fit a puzzle piece in—and I know that’s something she directly inherited from her father.

“Lilly sticks her tongue out like you when she’s concentrating,” I say softly as he wraps the Band-Aid carefully around the tip of my finger.

His eyes pop up to mine before looking back down. “I know. I saw her doing it the other day.”

“She also chews her nails the way you used to,” I tell him.

Marek chuckles. “I grew out of that, Gracie.”

“Then I’m sure she will too,” I say with a soft laugh.

Marek’s eyes slide back up to hold mine, and for a moment, there’s no cut or bad memories or hurt feelings. Just a shared parenting moment that leaves us both smiling.

My breath hitches slightly when Marek’s thumb grazes over the back of my hand ever so gently. His voice is barely more than a breath. “There…all better.”

“Thank you,” I say in a raspy voice, because my throat seems to be tightening with emotion.

He just stares at me, not long enough to be awkward, but drawn out enough that my breath freezes. Finally he gives a gentle squeeze to my hand and drops it.

Turning toward the bagels, he says, “I’ll finish cutting these if you want to get some coffee going.”

And just like that…the moment is over.