Chapter Eleven

Jenna and Mitch left the room to catch some fresh air, leaving Jake and Nana alone, except for the constant company of the bank of monitors over the bed.

She took a long, deep breath. "Everything that's happened. We need to finish our conversation on why I've stayed silent all these years."

Jake's eyes widened. Forty-eight hours in a coma, and her relationship with her not-quite-grandson was the first thing on her mind?

"Of course I did, dear boy." Her squeeze felt like the flutter of butterfly wings. "But it didn't matter to me. I've loved you since the moment you were born, just two floors above where we are now. I knew your mother was a flirt and a social climber. She and your father were alike in that way. It always pained me that your father acted that way, as if his name and his money made him special. Your grandfather thought we needed to send him to that fancy boarding school in the Northeast. I still wonder if I'd fought harder and kept him home, would he have turned out differently?"

Jake couldn't remember his grandmother speaking so frankly before. "You're not usually the type to talk about regrets, Nana."

"Well, Jakey, I'm not the type to think about dying, either, but you do a lot of that when you're lying in a hospital bed." The corners of her mouth turned up, warming her whole face. "I knew the secret about you, but I'd forgotten about the bylaws. I wouldn't have ever set you up in that manner. I hope you know that."

A lump formed in Jake's throat. Nana's inherent nature was too good to concoct such a scheme, but he couldn't find the words to let her know he forgave her completely. Another pat on the hand would have to suffice.

"I'll never regret having a reason to bring you home, Jakey. This year's been rough for you, losing your father and your law practice. I wanted to make your road a little easier. I didn't plan on things going this way. But I'm not a quitter, and blood relative or not, I helped raise you and I know you have my fighting spirit. This isn't the end for you with the Peoples family or Port Provident."

Jake let go of Nana's hand and walked to the window. He stared blankly at the street below. "But I don't see how to overcome this one, Nana. And now I've lost Gracie, too."

He sat heavily in the orange vinyl chair. "Gracie Garcia. She runs a school teaching English as a Second Language and other skills to immigrants in the community. Her school sits where the pool was slated to go for the condo project. I knew I'd need a knockout punch to prove to the board I could do the CEO's job, so to ensure I could easily end the lease on that property and tear it down, I got Carter Porter to propose an ordinance at the City Council for Maximized Revenue Zones that would eliminate nonprofit businesses along Gulfview Boulevard."

Diana pressed a button and made the top of the bed sit up. "Jake, that sounds like a scheme your father would cook up."

"I know, Nana. I wanted to show the board I wasn't as bad a businessman as he said I was. But once I got to know Gracie, I saw her school filled a real need here and I learned she didn't have the funds to relocate. So, Friday night, I called Carter and told him to pull the plug on the vote. But he didn't and the proposal passed anyway. Her school will have to close. Her American dream is dead, and it's all my fault. I've lost my own business and I've killed Gracie's, too."

The first signs of color in days flushed over Nana's pale cheeks. "Jakey, Jenna and I talked briefly before you got back here from the cafeteria. It's about time I settle down and make some changes in my life. Maybe God's telling me retirement isn't the dirty word I always thought it would be." A full smile spread across her dry lips. "I need you to run an errand for me."

Gracie sat in the middle of her classroom. She didn't know if she would ever smile again. Her heart had fallen somewhere around her ankles at the sound of the mayor's gavel earlier. The three distinct thuds echoed constantly in her ears.

A knock at the door made Gracie jump. It sounded just like that stupid gavel. She peeked through the window instead of opening the door. Gracie didn't want to talk to anyone right now. She felt far too much self-pity to be good company.

Pastor Ruiz stood on the front porch. She couldn't be rude and pretend not to be home. He'd always treated her like a daughter.

"Holá, Gracie," he said as she pulled the door open. "Gloria called. She said you might need a sympathetic ear today."

She closed the door behind him. "I don't feel much like talking right now, Pastor."

"I understand. Maybe I could do the talking, then." He sat down on one of the chairs in the classroom.

Gracie pulled out a chair nearby and slumped into it. "I don't think there's anything you could say that would make my heart stop hurting, Pastor Ruiz."

She nodded. "He's a prophet from the Old Testament, right?" "Exactly. And much like what's happened to you now, Jeremiah didn't like the situation he found himself in. One day, God had him write a letter to the other exiles like him. In it, God reminded the people that even though they weren't living in their lands, He still had a plan for their lives."

"Well, Gracie, God has brought you to this place, a long way from your homeland. You're here for a purpose." The pastor leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. "I don't know what God has in store for you, but He hasn't forgotten you, and the work you've been doing is not in vain."

Slowly, she could feel her heart begin to inch back to its rightful place. "But what about Jake, Pastor? I trusted him. I've prayed about him, and this wasn't the way I thought it was supposed to work out."

"Trusting others isn't a bad thing, Graciela. But above all, you have to trust in God. Even when His timing is not our own."

"Most of the important things in life are, hija." He reached out and gave her a reassuring pat on the knee. "I have some boxes in the church office. I'll go get them and then come back to help you start packing."

"Thanks, Pastor. I appreciate your stopping by." They both rose and walked back to the door.

He opened the door and left Gracie standing in the front hallway, alone again with her thoughts.

Suddenly, Gracie felt very small. She'd been raised to have faith. But in the toughest afternoon of her life, she'd forgotten all about it. How could she rebuild on a foundation that proved to be so easily shaken?

Maybe some hot tea and quiet time with her Bible would do the trick. She began to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. An insistent knock on the door stopped her in her tracks.

"Gracie, please open the door. Your car is parked out front. I know you're here."

Every fiber of her body wanted to stay put. But Gracie knew she couldn't hide. Not from Jake or from whatever lay ahead in her now-uncertain path. She retraced her steps back to the door, then slowly turned the doorknob.

He looked as disheveled as he had at the hospital. His shirttail wasn't tucked in and his khaki shorts—the same ones he'd worn Saturday on the boat—were wrinkled almost beyond recognition. A dark stain marred the hemline on the right leg. She clearly wasn't the only one who had been dealt a one-two punch recently.

"Gracie. I have something for you." He stood on the porch, not pushing to come inside.

"I think you've given me enough, Jake." She didn't mean to be harsh. The words just came out of her mouth before she could think them through.

He held up a goldenrod-colored envelope, the size of a sheet of paper. "Take this. It's yours."

"But I didn't leave anything behind on Saturday." She took the envelope and held it gingerly, as though it would scorch what little she had left to her name.

"It's not from Saturday." His green eyes focused on her with the intensity of a bear trap. "Please open it."

A slight tremble ruffled her fingers as she tore the flap of the envelope. Inside rested two pieces of paper. One, a sheet from a yellow legal pad, the other a blue rectangle. Gracie pulled out the yellow page first.

A short paragraph was shakily handwritten in black ink. Gracie's voice faltered as she read aloud.

Dear Ms. Garcia, It gives me great pleasure to award you a grant from the Peoples Family Foundation in the amount of $25,000. It is the foundation's hope that you will be able to continue your work educating the citizens of Port Provident in a new location and to begin your GED program. The foundation's new director, Jake Peoples, will be able to assist you should you have any further needs beyond this initial grant.

Sincerely yours,

Diana Powell Peoples.

Digging back in the envelope, Gracie found the blue rectangle. As the letter said, it was a check written in the sum of $25,000—$10,000 more than the grant she'd hoped to receive but hadn't.

Gracie tried to get a tight grip on her feelings, even as they began to take flight. She felt as if she was grasping at dangling strings from balloons rising on the breeze.

"I had a heart-to-heart with Nana about what's happened the last few days—if you'll pardon the pun, considering why Nana's been in the hospital. The subject of you and me and El Centro came up. She reminded me that she and Jenna happen to be in charge of a foundation that makes charitable grants to worthy causes in the Port Provident community. But with Jenna about to start a family and Nana recovering from her heart attack, there's a position open at the Peoples Family Foundation—and there's no board of directors and DNA isn't a job requirement." Jake cracked a smile. "She also asked that I apologize for the informal letter, but the nurses wouldn't let me bring her laptop into the ICU."

She scanned the letter again, still unable to believe she held a grant check in her hands. "So... you have a new job here in Port Provident after all?"

"One where I can work with people and help them achieve their dreams—just as you and I talked about on the boat. Just as my great-grandfather did after the hurricane."

Gracie leaned against the doorframe for support, overwhelmed. "Pastor Ruiz was right. God does have a plan, even when we can't see it. I don't know how to thank you—or Him."

"I have that praise and worship CD you accidentally left in my truck Wednesday night after church. He might like it if we drove down to the beach and sang along. We both have things to show our thanks for."

Gracie liked the sound of Jake's plan. Gratitude continued to wash over her with the repetitive force of one cresting wave after another.

"As for me," Jake said, taking one measured step in Gracie's direction, "I'd settle for a kiss. I want to know everything's okay between the two of us. We had a misunderstanding the last few days, but I had to tell you...I love you. I'm not some shallow, narrow-minded guy from your past. I want to be with you. Forever. Please don't ever question that."

Acting on pure emotion, Gracie leapt forward and threw her arms around Jake's neck. Together, she knew they could weather any storm life threw in their direction.

"Te amo, Graciela Garcia de Piedra. Remember that, maestra. There'll be a quiz later.”