Free An Unexpected Grace by Kristin von Kreisler

make her life the way she wanted it, Lila went to Cristina and Greg’s bedroom, where she would be sleeping. She took Greg’s navy terrycloth robe from the chrome hook behind the closet door and put it in his dresser drawer—one less reminder that she had no husband. She went into Rosie’s bedroom and glanced one last time at the stained-glass turtle nightlight on her dresser, and she closed the door. Now Lila wouldn’t pass by and see the turtle, or Rosie’s angel collection, or the moon and stars Cristina had painted on the ceiling above Rosie’s bed—and risk a wilting spirit because she had no child of her own.
    To dispose of other signs that she missed having a family, Lila went downstairs to the mudroom and took Rosie’s, Greg’s, and Cristina’s coats from the antique brass doorknobs attached to the wall for hooks. Lila folded the jackets and parkas and set them in a cabinet above the washing machine. She put the boots and gardening shoes lined up against the wall into the water-heater closet.
    While downstairs, Lila checked that the door to the backyard was bolted and all windows that murderers could reach were locked. She reassured herself that the bolt and locks were sturdy and she had no reason to be afraid. When Grace shuffled to her water bowl upstairs in the kitchen, though, apprehension about the dog—and men with guns—rippled through Lila. To be sure of her safety, she checked the door and windows again.
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    Grace was lying by the front door in a dismal heap, like a large yam. She pressed her nose against a sidelight and bristled her eyebrows, looking puzzled, perhaps about why Lila was there after everyone else had gone. As Grace stared through the glass, her body tensed; she could have been waiting for a T-bone steak to fall to her paws like Rosie’s Cheerios. Surely Grace was hoping Rosie, Adam, or Cristina would appear on the porch. The dog was waiting for someone she was attached to, to come home.
    Grace’s apprehension was sad to see, but for now she’d have to tough it out with her people gone, as Lila was doing. The dog was not the only one in the house who felt alone.
    Wanting to stay as far from her as possible, Lila headed toward the kitchen. As she passed Grace, she closed her sad brown eyes and cut off Lila, who got the point: Since she’d been ignoring Grace, the dog was going to ignore her. Their playing field would be even, and the match would be Invisible Dog vs. Invisible Human.
    Lila stopped at the kitchen door and looked back to check that Grace hadn’t changed her mind and decided to sneak up behind her, brandishing her fangs. Grace was staring out the window and seemed miles away. She looked innocent huddled at the door, but the little-lamb act might be a ploy, and at any time Grace could turn savage. Her gimp leg was no guarantee she wouldn’t charge.
    Grace turned her head and glanced at Lila. The fur along Grace’s spine was rumpled like spikes along a stegosaurus’s back, and the usual wary glint was in her eyes. Lila was sure they said, as clear as a bugle blast, I’m not the only potential savage in this house. You could turn vicious. I’m keeping tabs on you, you rampant rat fink.
    Lila poured granola and milk into a china bowl and set it on the kitchen table. As she eased into a chair, her foot hit something round and squishy—Grace’s tennis ball.
    Lila got up and grabbed five paper towels off the roll hanging below the kitchen cabinet, the better to protect her hand. With the towels, she picked up the ball like it harbored typhoid. “Let’s get one thing clear, Grace. No ghastly ball allowed in this house.”
    Grace closed her eyes as if Lila did not exist.
    With care, she threw the ball off the back porch into the ferns, where she hoped Grace would never find it. Back in the kitchen, as Lila crunched her granola, she had the feeling the dog was watching her, and she