Amazing Grace (to be edited)

Chapter 6

Alright, here is ANOTHER LONG AWAITED CONTINUATION. I'm really not good at this stuff. But as I said, I came through, and I hope you enjoy it. Please tell me what you think.

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This morning was a pretty good one in my book. Well, given the standard of the last half a month it was good. I had woken up in my own bed, in my own house, had a restful night's sleep, was cooking pancakes, and was going to eat them at my own dining table, and they wouldn't taste like vomit. The only thing that put a damper on my day, and a very large damper at that, was Grace's condition. I knew what I had done yesterday was not a very smart move, but man, the look in those eyes. You can't refuse 'em. I flipped the pancakes, which I had become an expert at in my years of motherhood, since it entailed making a lot of blueberry pancakes. I let them cook for a little while longer, then set the lot I had made out on two plates an ran up the stairs to fetch Grace.

She was sleeping peacefully, and though I felt bad about waking her, I wanted to see the look on her face when she got excited, this morning about blueberry pancakes, which I hadn't seen in over a month.

"Grace..." I whispered into the small girl's ear as I shook her shoulder lightly, "Grace.... wake up, sweets..."

She stretched and let out a yawn, and then opened her bright green eyes and stared at me. She blinked a couple times, and then spoke.

"Mommy, are there pancakes?"

I chuckled at her predictability.

“Of course there are. C’mon, hun.” I said, and at that she sat up, stretched again, then stood, and we began walking down the stairs. Grace grabbed my hand at the first step. I squeezed back, smiling. She was excited to see everything set up when we got downstairs when she sat down, and then we started to eat, both of us quite ravenously. Being deprived of real food for about a month can do that to you.

"Momma, these are the best pancakes I've ever had."

I smiled at her from across the table, "Yeah, I know you like 'em, sweetheart."

"No, these are the best pancakes I've ever had EVER!" she replied, mouth full so I had to take a second to decode what she said. Along with her full mouth, there was syrup all over her face. I shook my head and quickly took a napkin, licked it, and then dabbed it on her face. She pushed me away, yelling at me.

"Stop! I am a big girl! I am 6 years old! Cassidy's mom never does that, not even once when I was over at her house!"

I chuckled at her proclamation, that I shouldn't wipe her face off like that, simply relishing in her childish claim to maturity. I nodded at her, signaling that I wouldn't do it again, cross my heart, and picked up both our plates and gave them a quick rinse before throwing them in the dishwasher. I'd start it that night, when the dishes piled up a bit more.

However, then I heard Grace gasp, and whipped around instantly, scared for her health. I saw her sitting at the table, crying. I ran over to her and heard her moan, "Cassidy," quietly as I hugged her close. I rocked her back and forth, whispering, "It's ok, baby, it's ok, I'm here."

I sat with her until her tears stopped and she finally quieted down; I tried not to think about my poor baby crying in my arms to keep my own eyes dry. This whole situation was a nightmare.

"Grace, honey," I said softly to her, pushing a bit of the soaked hair out of her face, "Would you like Cassidy to come over sometime? I'm sure if I talked to her mom, she could."

At this Grace immediately brightened up and chirped an enthusiastic, "Yeah!" and then wiped her nose. I smiled at her and ushered her off my lap, telling her I needed to call Cassidy's mom, and did just that, standing up and pulling out my cell phone.

I dialed the number and the ringing was cut off on the first cycle; I didn't have to wait at all.

"Oh, Emily!" Cassidy's mother spewed emphatically, "Are you alright? Is Grace alright? Is everything ok?"

"Yes, Matilda, everything's fine." I swear I could hear a dramatic, relieved sigh on the other end of the line. Matilda was an older woman; Cassidy was her youngest child. She had a couple other children, all of whom were nearly through the education system. I think there was a considerable gap between Cassidy and her other children because she'd gotten remarried or something; I wasn't quite sure, unfortunately. I would've talked more with her if I didn't constantly have somewhere to be.

"Grace is fine," I said, "She'd just really like to see Cassidy soon, is that possible?"

"Oh, of course it is, sugar! In fact, Cassidy has been asking me day in and day out, 'have you heard from DGrace?' and I was starting to get so worried! I could definetely set something up tomorrow afternoon, say, one to three? That's after Jim's basketball game."

"Yes, that sounds fine. Perfect, actually. Thanks, Matilda."

"Oh, anything for you dear! Now, I've got a bit of cleaning to do, so I'll let you go!"

I heard the line cut off and shook my head.

That woman...

Discarding the thought, and the negativity towards her, I turned to Grace, telling her that, yes, she would see Cassidy tomorrow.

And the look in her eyes was priceless.