Grace
The springs on Robyn’s office chair squeaked as she leaned back. With tufts of stuffing poking through the old leather upholstery it didn’t look like much, but she’d never been able to find anything as comfortable as her papa’s chair. Papers covered her desk: a stack of bills, statements to file, trash to recycle. She tallied her expenses on a legal pad and just for the sake of argument halved all of them to project what Grace would need to contribute if she moved in.
She had no mortgage to worry about, but she didn’t want to trust her coast guard pension to carry her through the end. Each month, she was able to put away much of what she collected in rent. Losing the renters wouldn’t hurt her monthly budget, but it would impact her savings, money she would need if Grace ever decided that she didn’t want to be with her for the long haul.
Not being legally married to Barb became a blessing when she left. To separate their finances, Robyn only had to open a new bank account, but her leaving had stripped Robyn of the financial security she had felt while they were together. She didn’t want to feel that vulnerable again.
Two sets of feet clomped down the stairs: Jen’s last pupil leaving with his mother. She could start charging Jen for the studio space, but she hated to bite into what Jen was making. She tipped forward and scrounged in her recycling for a piece of paper with a blank back. How hard would it be to add a separate entrance for the studio and eliminate the traffic through the house? Busy sketching the possibility, she didn’t hear Jen until she stood at the doorway.
“Bad time?” she asked.
“No. Great time. What do you think about a separate entrance for the studio? We could run a set of stairs up to the enclosed porch and put an external door to the studio.” She turned back to the drawing. “That could be your entry room. You could make a little sitting area there, so the kids coming in wouldn’t disturb your lesson. Put in a few chairs, and it would also give the parents a place to sit and wait.” She couldn’t read the expression on Jen’s face. “Bad idea?”
Jen leaned against the bookshelf. “Great idea. I just don’t know if you’ll want to go to the trouble.”
“I thought your lessons were going well. It seems like there’s a steady stream of little musicians coming through every day.”
“Yeah, the teaching is great,” Jen agreed. She wouldn’t meet Robyn’s eye.
“This is about Grace, isn’t it? About the fight we had. Please don’t worry about that.”
“You’re kidding, right? She’s totally pissed at me and rightfully so. I should never have gone into your bedroom. I don’t know what I was thinking, and I’m so sorry.”
“She’ll get over it, and if she doesn’t…” Robyn took a deep breath remembering the jolt she’d felt when she read the lettering of her lover’s name on the stone in her palm that morning. She honestly hoped that Grace would come around and accept Robyn’s apology. If she didn’t, Robyn had been telling herself that she would be relieved to know they were so incompatible without investing years of their lives into something that would be difficult to dissolve. The problem was that she wasn’t convinced. Just the thought of Grace leaving her pressed on her chest like being trapped under a wave—disoriented, desperate for air, without a clue as to whether the surf would let her emerge again.
“You don’t mean that,” Jen said. “You wouldn’t let her get away.”
“You’re my family. She has no right to ask you to leave.”
“So she does want us gone.” Jen didn’t look hurt.
“She hasn’t said that.” Robyn left out how they hadn’t spoken since.
“If you think about it, what part of this space is hers? I have my room, the studio as my own space. What does she have?”
“Me! My space is our space. I can make room for her, but she has to meet me halfway and see where she’s being unreasonable. It’s not like she’s moving in. That’s not what we’re talking about here.”
“Wouldn’t she, eventually? It’s not like you’d move, right? So she’s got to be wondering whether being with you means living with renters. It’s your choice, but if you ask me, if you choose to keep renters instead of her, you’re the one losing.”
Robyn crossed her arms over her chest, feeling like she was under attack. She had anticipated having Jen on her side, not receiving a lecture about how she was in the wrong.
“I didn’t mean to make you defensive. I really just came down to let you know that I’m moving out.”
“What!” Robyn’s chair snapped back to level position, her feet smacking the floor in front of her.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” Jen said. “We wouldn’t have moved in together so soon, but I told her about what happened. She’s the one who said that you clearly need your own space, and I agree with her.”
“That’s for me to decide. I have a room to rent. I’ll just put someone else in there. I need the income.”
Jen stared at her levelly. “Then I’ll keep the studio for my classes and pay you for that. Don’t rent out that room, Robyn. Grace is good for you. She came right out and told you what the issue is, and it’s an issue you happen to be able to fix. Easily. You’re crazy not to.” She pushed away from the bookshelf. “Anyway, I told Tara that I need a week to pack and clean up the room. I hope you’ll let me keep doing lessons.”
Robyn sat, stunned by Jen’s announcement. She thought about her prayer stones and what an answered prayer was: the granting of what one most needed. She reminded herself that she always accepted what she pulled from the bowl. Did that mean Grace was what she needed most?