Stages of Grace - By Carey Heywood Page 0,47

sweater for my cooking lesson. We're making meatloaf. I remember hearing that some people use corn flakes in meatloaf, not Kate. She uses stuffing. The recipe is simple. Forming the loaf is a bit messy, but I’m certain once we glaze it this is something I can probably make on my own. We go back onto the lanai once the meatloaf is in the oven.

"Would you ever like to learn how to knit?"

"Maybe someday. Have you made anything other than shawls?"

"Here, come with me."

I follow Kate back into the house and to the second spare bedroom, this one smaller than the one I’m sleeping in. It’s painted a light sage green, leaning more grey than green. There's a pine-framed daybed and matching dresser. In one corner, a wooden rocking chair that has been painted white sits next to a brass side table. Instead of paintings, there are pieces of stained glass hanging on the walls: a hummingbird, an orchid, and a geometric pattern. There is one piece hanging in front of the window: a frog, casting green and yellow hued shadows on the floor and bed. Kate opens the closet and begins pulling hanger after hanger down of knitted goods. Sweaters, scarves, a dress, cardigans, and cowl neck scarves.

"Did you make all of these?" I lift one sweater up off the daybed to look at the pattern on it. There are four different colors mixed together to create a row of flowers at the waist and wrists.

"I've been knitting a long time, dear. Now, mainly making shawls for the church."

"These are gorgeous."

"Would you like any?"

"I couldn’t."

"No, please take whatever you'd like. I would like you to have something I made."

"Really?"

"Of course, dear." Kate lifts my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze.

I carefully look at each piece and settle on a blue sweater with white x marks at the waist and wrists, and after Kate's insistence, a purple and black cowl scarf as well.

"Thank you so much. I absolutely love them. I will think of you every time I wear either of them."

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Well, I wouldn’t be able to wear these here, would I?" I try to joke, but the thought of leaving is really upsetting me.

We hang everything back up and the go back to sit by the pool. Once Kate is settled with her knitting again, I excuse myself to check my laundry. I purposely take my time pulling each item out one by one and placing them into the dryer. As though delaying this will somehow slow the movement of my last full day here. Once the dryer is going, I go back outside and sit in comfortable silence with Kate. I’m not sitting right next to her but am close enough to her that every so often she leans forward and pats me on the knee. It’s nice, like a reminder that I am wanted.

I’m sure Kate wonders why I am so set on going home. I admitted I don't love Jon, so what's pulling me back? A sense of obligation? A fear of the unknown? I spend most of the afternoon second guessing myself. The buzz of the oven timer brings me back to reality. I tell Kate to sit and go to take the loaf out of the oven. I’m holding it with mitts when I hear Ryan call out a greeting from the front door.

"Good God, that smells like heaven. Kate, you are truly trying to ruin me for all other women."

I have just set the pan onto the stovetop when Ryan pulls me into a hug. "Hullo, Grace."

Hugging him back, I can’t help but giggle at his forwardness. "Hello, Ryan."

He loosens his grip a fraction, and I step out of it, trying not to think about how good he smells. I decide not to make the moment awkward by asking why he hugged me but instead just enjoy it. I prepare a plate for each of us while Ryan opens a bottle of wine. He helps me bring the food out, and we sit.

"I'd like to make a toast," Ryan says, lifting his glass. "To Grace, for—no pun intended—gracing us with her presence."

"Har har." I reply as we clink glasses.

"You'll come back and see us again, won't you?" Ryan asks, looking at Kate and then at me.

"I'd love to."

"I asked Grace to move in with me."

My mouth drops open. I’m surprised Kate mentioned it.

"That's great!" Ryan is beaming. "So will you do it?"

I start to reply, but