Free Grace by Richard Paul Evans Page B

come.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œShe said so.”
    â€œI’ll think about it.” Neither of us spoke for a minute, then Joel asked, “Do you want me to come?”
    â€œYeah. Sure.”
    â€œI’ll think about it.”
    â€œI’m buying a chocolate cake from Heller’s.”
    â€œOkay. I’ll think about it.”

CHAPTER Twelve
    I don’t know why we’re
celebrating my birthday.
It would have been
better that I’d never been born.
    GRACE’S DIARY
    WEDNESDAY, OCT. 17
    In spite of my fears, no one arrested me at school the next day. In fact, it appeared that no one even missed me. Only my English teacher, Mrs. Johnson, asked where I was. I said I was sick, which wasn’t a complete lie since I had had a stomachache after lunch. (Though probably just worry-induced indigestion.) Mrs. Johnson made a sharp check in her roll book as I took my seat and didn’t even ask for a note from home. I guess I just looked so squeaky-clean that no one thought I was capable of breaking rules.
    My mom went to the bank on her lunch hour and left the money from my paycheck on my bed, just beating the snowstorm that completely whited out the city for about an hour. It had slowed to a gentle fall by the time I got home from school.
    I got the rest of my money from the jar under my bed, then rode my bike about a mile and a half to the nearest hardware store to get Grace’s present.
    I had decided several days earlier what to get Grace for her birthday. It was the most expensive thing that I had ever bought. I hadn’t considered how I would get it home on my bike. The box it came in was way too big to fit in my schoolbag and too bulky to hold under my arm. I had to balance it between my handlebars and straddle it with my legs. It was a miracle I made it home alive.
    When I got home I stowed the box in the garage. Then I walked to Heller’s, a small bakery just three blocks from our home where I bought a small round chocolate layer cake. It was covered with dark fudge frosting and the woman from the bakery wrote Happy Birthday on it in red icing. She asked if I wanted to put a name on it but I said no.
    I brought it home and put the cake in a travel case in the garage, then I went inside to get Joel. Not only had he decided to attend the party but he had drawn Grace a birthday card and put one of his favorite baseball cards inside. I almost said something about girls not liking baseball cards but for once I did the right thing and just kept my mouth shut. We were about to go out to the clubhouse when my mother stopped me.
    â€œEric, we’re about ready to eat. Would you please set the table?”
    â€œSure. Just give me a minute.”
    â€œNo, right now.”
    I turned to Joel and whispered, “Go tell Grace we have to eat first.”
    â€œOkay.” He ran off.
    I got the dishes and was setting them around the table when my mother said, “So Mr. Berg asked me if you have a girlfriend.” Mr. Berg was an assistant manager at Warshaw’s and the last person on the planet I would expect to show an interest in my love life.
    â€œWhy did he ask that?”
    â€œHe said he saw you outside the store with a young woman.”
    My heart froze. I began laying down the silverware. “Must have been someone who looked like me,” I said.
    â€œHe said she was pretty.”
    â€œThen it definitely wasn’t me.”
    My mother said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a handsome young man, just like your dad. Trust me, someday you’ll have to beat the girls off.”
    I just wanted this conversation to be over. “Sure, Mom. So, what’s for dinner?”
    She smiled at my obvious deflection. “Meatloaf.”
    Joel walked back in the back door.
    â€œDon’t track any snow in,” my mother said.
    â€œSorry.”
    I looked over at him and he winked, which I knew meant “mission accomplished”