Gracie's Game: Sudden Anger, Accidentally on Purpose Read online

  "You mean 'expensive'," she said, intending it to sound blunt.

  "So what's wrong with that?" he asked. "I want my Princess to have the best."

  "I happen to think the Prius is nice, and it costs about the same as the Mustang." Gracie was feeling frustrated. Dad always thought money and status were the only important issues. It hurt that he couldn't understand there might be more important things to her. She knew she should be thrilled at the prospect of the Mustang, but she felt like he wasn't listening to her. He didn't take her seriously!

  Somewhat petulantly she said, "So why not buy me something really expensive, maybe a Lexus. Then everybody could see how good you are to me!" The minute the words left her mouth she felt bad about saying them, and didn't for a second think he'd go for it.

  "Hmmm. You know, I just might do that," he said thoughtfully. "I've already told Justin I decided not to buy him another car after he wrecked the first one, and I've still got the money set aside so that wouldn't be a problem. Just might teach him a lesson, too, to see you tool around in a fancy car while he's afoot." Charles' face brightened a little, he'd made a decision. "You pick one out Baby, and we'll talk."

  Gracie was stunned. "Oh wow, Dad! Thanks! You don't really have to do that, but I really appreciate it. I'll start looking, and let you know." As the idea started to sink in she began to think it might not be such a bad thing. Dad would never know if she continued to ride her bike, and Mom could drive the Lexus instead of the Escalade. Justin would be pissed, but that was nothing new.

  She came out of her reverie to realize her oldest brother was standing beside her chair. Clarke Greene at twenty-one was a younger carbon-copy of their father, tall and rather thickly-built, though his hair was a little lighter shade of blond.

  "Hey, Sis!" he said. "You're looking good, all that bike-riding agrees with you."

  Gracie jumped up to hug Clarke. "Good to see you! You're looking good yourself. How's school? Whatcha been up to? Who's your girlfriend this week?"

  "Whoa, slow down kiddo! We've got all afternoon to talk. I saw Dad drag you over here when you first came in, thought I'd bring you something to drink." Clarke handed her a glass of ice-water. "Got it out of the tap, no plastic bottles were harmed."

  Gracie sat down and took a drink, all this car-talk had made her a little dry. "Thanks Clarke. And thanks for thinking about the plastic." She cut her eyes quickly towards their father, and Clarke grinned. He knew Dad never paid any attention to anyone else's feelings, he was used to it.

  "Did I hear Dad say he was getting you a car?" Clarke asked. "That's great. My kid sister's growing up. I mean it Gracie, you're turning into the pretty girl I always knew you would. Do I need to beat some guys off with a stick?"

  Gracie blushed a little and mumbled something about not dating very much. It occurred to her that it was typical of Dad to offer her the car at what was supposed to be Clarke's party. She knew Clarke wouldn't mind, he'd only be happy for her. Clarke hated the way his father treated others and because of it had become a very considerate young man.

  Clarissa walked up and put her arm around her son's waist. "Charles, Clarke tells me that he's making straight-A's again this semester," she said proudly. "Isn't that wonderful?"

  Charles looked up at her and said, "Well, he did it before, no reason he can't do it again."

  Clarissa's smile became a little more strained. "The class project he's leading has been entered in a state-wide competition. His professor says it's a brilliant idea, and they've got a good chance of winning."

  "I would expect no less," Charles said. He took a long pull at his drink.

  "Well, I'm proud of him, and I would think you would be too," Clarissa said a little tightly.

  Charles drained the last of the Scotch and stood up. "Empty," he said. "Gotta go fill 'er up again." He walked off towards the tiki-bar without another word.

  Clarissa sat down and Clarke pulled over another chair and sat with them. "He's proud of you too, son," Clarissa said. "He just doesn't know how to say it."

  "I'm proud of you too, Clarke," Gracie said. "You've always made better grades than I do."

  Clarke sighed and said, "I know he is. I know it intellectually, but I don't ever feel it in my heart. I don't mind so much for myself, I'm a guy, I'm supposed to suck it up. I just wish he treated you two better."

  "I mean, look at the way he laughs at you Gracie, makes fun of you for wanting to make a difference in the environment," he continued. "And the way he treated you Mom. A different mistress every other month, and all of them cheap floozies. He didn't even have the decency to try to hide them, we all knew about his affairs. What a bastard!"

  "Why do you think I left him?" his mother asked. "I couldn't take the lying and cheating anymore. And the drinking didn't help."

  "Why did you wait so long?" Gracie asked. She knew the basics, but had never before had the guts to ask about the details.

  "Because he may have been a bastard, but he wasn't a cheap bastard!" her mother replied. "I knew about the other women, but he always encouraged me to buy whatever I wanted. We had the house, fancy cars, the latest electronic toys. I had you three…" Clarissa smiled fondly. "I could afford to look good and do what I liked. But it got worse and I, uh, became more aware of the affairs. I didn't want you guys exposed to that - and I didn't realize you knew so much! Anyway, I finally realized the money didn't make up for it." Clarissa's eyes seemed to focus inwardly for a moment. "I'm not sure I can ever trust a man again."

  She sat up straighter and put a smile on her face. "But hey, that's ancient history! These last two years have been great. I have plenty of friends and lots of things to keep me busy. Clay treats me like a queen. I respect myself, and I've learned that money doesn't make you happy."

  Clarke reached over and squeezed his mother's hand. "I love you, Mom," he said. "I'm glad you're happy."

  Gracie said, "Me too, Mom. Oh, goody!" This last in a heavily ironic tone. "Aunt Jeanine's here."

  Jeanine Thomas hitched her bulk slowly across the patio towards the group. She was Charles' younger sister, and like him had inherited the stout Greene body. But where he had padded his belly in recent years Jeanine had packed on the pounds long ago. Oddly, she'd never learned to move the extra weight gracefully. She was looking at her niece and nephew instead of the uneven flagstones, so she didn't notice she'd veered a bit from the path until she stepped halfway onto the grass and nearly fell.

  Susan Holloway, who lived across the street from Charles, ran up to Jeanine and grabbed her arm. "Are you OK?" she asked.

  "Jesus H. Christ on a crutch, I thought I was gonna fall on my ass!" Jeanine said loudly. "Those goddamn rocks are dangerous, someone could get hurt." She put her hand to her chest in a melodramatic pose and panted noisily a few times for effect. "Whew! And I haven't even had a drink yet. Maybe that's what I need. I'm gonna go sit down and catch my breath for a minute. I'll catch up to you later Susan."

  Susan just said, "Sure, you do that." She patted Jeanine's flabby arm and went back to her seat. She'd known Jeanine long enough not to expect a 'thank you' from her. She enjoyed Charles' parties, he didn't stint on the drinks and knew some interesting people - but she spent as little time talking to Jeanine as possible. She'd just happened to be nearby when Jeanine had tripped, and couldn't let her fall.

  Jeanine made her way to the patio without further mishap. "Hi Gracie, hi Clarke," she said. She didn't speak to Clarissa.

  In unison Clarke and Gracie said, "Hello Aunt Jeanine." There was a definite formulaic tone to their voices as if this were just an automatic response instead of a warm welcome.

  Gracie noticed that her aunt was wearing her usual "dressy" outfit. A pair of Capri's and gaudy matching top that would've looked cheap when new, and was now stretched, frayed, and faintly stained.

  "Get up boy, and lemme sit down," Jeanine said. "My back's acting up again, hurts like a son of a bitch, I need to sit a spell."

  Clarke dutifully stood up and he
lped his aunt sit down. She dropped heavily into the chair like the proverbial ton of bricks. "I think I'll go for a quick swim," he said. "Zoo Time has left the pool, and we'll be eating soon." Clarke walked away, headed for the changing room behind their small conversation area.

  "Zoo Time?" Jeanine asked. "What the hell is he talking about now?"

  Gracie laughed merrily. "It's Justin and his friend Zack, Aunt Jeanine," she said. Justin's buddies call him 'Time', as in 'just in time.' Zack's last name is Owens, which makes his initials 'Z.O.', so they call him 'Zoo'. It's appropriate, don't you think? I mean, they act like animals."

  "They act like little asses, if you ask me," Jeanine replied. "Don't just sit there, girl," she said to Gracie. "Go get me a drink - and make it a double!"

  Clarissa quickly said, "I'll get it." As she got up she saw Gracie stick her tongue out at her. "Sorry kiddo," she thought. "I'm not about to sit here and listen to her whine."

  Gracie was stuck for quite awhile, listening to a catalogue of ailments, cases of bad luck, and a detailed list of people who'd deliberately done her aunt wrong.

  CHAPTER 3

  After delivering Jeanine's drink Clarissa decided to pay her respects to the hostess. She didn't like Jennifer, but she saw no reason not to be polite. She supposed she ought to resent the fact that Jennifer was now Queen of the Castle in the house she'd formerly lived in, but Jennifer could have it as far as she was concerned. She was far happier without the big house.

  Jennifer was at the big table, looking for something low-cal to snack on. She was a twenty-six year old bottled blonde, obsessively vain about her appearance. She had a good figure and dressed to accentuate it, though she somehow managed to make even expensive clothes look tawdry. Gracie had been right not to accept the bet about the low-cut blouse.

  Jennifer's good friend Cindy Stone was with her; she was stuffing down some cookies. Cindy was twenty-two, maybe. She was the complete opposite of Jennifer; a quiet, slightly chubby, plain girl who seemed to have no self-esteem but who had a natural and honest quality about her. Not for the first time Clarissa wondered how that friendship worked. What did they talk about together?

  "Hello, Jennifer," she said. "And Cindy, good to see you both. It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

  Cindy brightened at being noticed. "Hi, Clarissa! How are you? That's a really pretty blouse you're wearing."

  Jennifer deliberately chose a piece of stuffed celery and took a bite before answering. "Hello," she said as she crunched noisily. "It's so hot out here, I don't know why we couldn't, like, have the party inside. I'm getting all sweaty, yuck."

  "Thanks, Cindy," Clarissa responded. Then to Jennifer, "You know Charles likes his outdoor parties. He thinks he's the Grill King. You've both done a very nice job, the food looks delicious." Clarissa selected a canapé, something indefinable on a cracker, and nibbled it delicately.

  "Well, I guess I could always go swimming to cool off," Jennifer said. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

  Privately Clarissa thought she'd prefer that Jennifer should suddenly develop a headache and go inside to lie down than to show off by the pool. But she simply said, "Sure."

  Jennifer moved a little closer as if to say 'this is just between us girls.' "Do you always have to bring your boyfriend when you come here? I mean, it upsets Charles. You know, to see you with him. And, I mean, it's not like you two are married or anything."

  Clarissa was a little surprised at this. "Well, um," she stammered. "Yes, I do have to bring Clay with me! Just because we haven't chosen to marry doesn't mean he's not a part of my family. We're a committed couple; he likes spending time with my children, and I'm getting to know his daughter Candy."

  "But do you have to, like, flaunt him in front of Charles?" Jennifer asked petulantly.

  Clarissa looked around to spot Clay deep in conversation with Jim Holloway. Probably talking Golf. Charles was on the other side of the lawn, talking to his friend Bill. "He doesn't look upset to me," she remarked.

  "Well, but, I mean, he doesn't like it," Jennifer replied. "And I want him to be happy, you know."

  Clarissa considered that Jennifer doubtless did want Charles to be happy. A happy husband was less likely to notice how shallow she was or how much she complained. The poor kid was going to have trouble keeping Charles happy, but that was her problem.

  "Well since we're no longer married, I guess he's just going to have to deal with it," Clarissa said. She grabbed another canapé and said, "Think I'll go see what the boys are talking about. Susan told me Jim's made another hole-in-one, bet he's bragging about it." She left the table and wandered over to join in Clay and Jim's conversation.

  * * * *

  Gracie was getting really tired of talking with her aunt. Perhaps 'talking' wasn't the right word; you never actually talked with Jeanine, you mostly listened. Jeanine had wound down her current tale of woe, the point of which Gracie had never quite determined. It had something to do with money - or the lack thereof, Aunt Jeanine was always broke.

  "I'm starving," she announced into the momentary quiet. "I'm gonna go get something to eat. You want me to bring you something?"

  Jeanine looked a little confused at the sudden change of topic. She'd suddenly remembered another grievance she wanted to air and it took a moment for her brain to change gears. "Um, yeah, some of that green Jell-O stuff on the corner there," she answered. "Ooh, and a piece of that chocolate cake, too."

  Gracie said, "OK," and walked away quickly. Under her breath she muttered, "Lime Jell-O and chocolate cake? Yuck!" There was a stack of paper plates on the table and she picked up two. "Paper plates, Dad?" She spoke quietly, not really meaning anyone else to hear, just wanting to air her disgust. "You had this shindig catered, you couldn't have asked for real plates? The caterers would've washed them."

  She scooped some of the Jell-O salad onto a plate and added the cake, then set it down while she contemplated her own choices. She walked slowly around the table, taking a little of this and a few of that and checking everything out. She got to the other end and started around to the back side just in case there was something yummy she'd overlooked.

  Jennifer and Cindy were standing there close together talking, their hands clasped between them. Jennifer suddenly skipped forward and grabbed something off the table and popped it into her mouth. "Oh, hi guys," Gracie said. "Didn't mean to startle you. Ooh, those meatballs look good - are they?"

  Jennifer swallowed with some effort and made a disgusted face. "Actually they're pretty greasy." She turned to Cindy and said, "Those cracker-things are almost gone, let's go see if there's, like, more in the kitchen." Jennifer opened the patio door and Cindy followed her inside, sliding the door shut behind her.

  Gracie speared several of the meatballs on a long toothpick and added it to her plate. "Fine," she said to the blank door. "Don't talk to me."

  "Got enough on that plate to last until the steaks are done?"

  Gracie looked up to see Bill Conover's smiling face. Bill was her dad's best friend, they'd been roomies in college. He was a short man with average looks and short black hair. Though he was a chemistry professor at the local JC he was the one who'd gotten her interested in the environment, and they'd become pals because of their shared interest. He was convinced there were useful eco-friendly compounds to be discovered, and had some kind of hush-hush government grant to work on them.

  "Hey, Bill!" she said. She thrust her plate in his direction with both hands. "Hold this for a sec, would ya?" Bill slid his hand under the over-full plate before it had a chance to fall apart, and lost the meatballs anyway. Gracie picked up the other plate and told him, "Lemme just go give this to my aunt and I'll be right back."

  Jeanine had buttonholed Jim Holloway and was droning on to him about some misfortune. Gracie dropped the plate on her lap with a quick "Here," and turned around to make good her escape. As she left she could hear Jim saying, "I'll leave you to eat your cake in peace." Poor Aunt Jeanine, she never Got It that she bored peo
ple. No wonder her husband had left her after only six months. The wonder was that he'd stayed that long!

  Bill was sitting at one of the tables set up on the lawn. Gracie sat down and attacked the food. "Don't they feed you at home?" Bill asked with a big grin.

  "'M'ungry," Gracie said. She continued to shovel food into her mouth for a few minutes while Bill watched, shaking his head at the voracity of teens. The bottomless pit temporarily satisfied, she sat back and sighed contentedly.

  "You left a couple of sausages," Bill pointed out.

  "They're too spicy," she replied. "So, how've you been? How's the research going?"

  "Well, I didn't happen to make any breakthroughs after you left Tuesday afternoon. I feel like I'm close, but can't quite seem to get there. Wish I could spend more time in the lab, but the grant doesn't pay the bills so I have to teach."

  "You must be doing a little better," she said. "You're wearing new clothes."

  "How can you tell?" Bill was a little nonplussed.

  Gracie laughed good-naturedly. "You're such a guy. They're not all soft and faded, they haven't been through the wash a zillion times." She cocked her head to one side as she regarded his attire critically. The shirt was a big plaid in black-and-gray on a white background and looked good with black Dockers. "You look nice. It's good to see you spiffed up a little."

  "Thanks," he replied. "It's not that I have any extra money, I never seem to. I just decided I needed a little something for myself, don't want to look like a total slob up there in front of the kids. Though God knows none of them dress to impress!" Bill sighed resignedly. "I'll have to brown-bag it for a couple weeks to stay within my budget, and probably ride my bike to work, too."

  "I know teaching doesn't pay real well," Gracie said. "But Bill, you're such a good teacher, you could get a job at a bigger school. Make more money."

  "It wouldn't matter, Gracie," he said. "My child support is based on my income and it would go up too. And I like the college, and I'd have to move somewhere else to get a better-paying job. Not that I regret taking care of the kids. I wasn't able to give them much when they were young, at least there's more money for them now. I do wish I could see them more often." His voice sounded regretful.