Grace Grows by Sumners Shelle

Author:Sumners, Shelle [Sumners, Shelle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC000000, book
ISBN: 9781743433683
Published: 2013-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

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So I moved back into my former bedroom, the one I’d lived in right out of college when I was new to adulthood and autonomy and so certain about what I wanted to do with my life.

And when the call came to say that I got the job at SASS, it felt like I was being allowed all kinds of major do-over. Now if I could just manage not to mess it all up.

I was glad to vacate Peg’s room, after living there with her for a month. She was seeing a guy, Jim, this cute hippie dentist she met in the vitamin aisle at Whole Foods, and they’d had no privacy. Now they were on a romantic trip upstate for a week to celebrate the winter solstice. I was planning to spend Christmas on the couch in my underwear watching CNN, but Peg made me promise to leave the apartment. I went to my mom’s.

When giving Julia news, the timing is crucial. So, after she tossed back several eggnogs, and while we were watching the pope, I casually mentioned my impending job change. She had an anaphylactic reaction to the word nonprofit.

“I can’t believe you’re giving up your editing career!”

“I know.”

“You’ve worked so hard for it!”

“I know, but it’s over. I might do some writing for SASS.”

“I think you’re being naïve. Grace, I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

I got quiet. I was learning, you can’t always make people understand you. And that had to somehow be okay.

Christmas Day, her behavior was unusual. Several times she randomly patted my shoulder. She tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled at me. That evening, when she was driving me to the train station, the Julia Barnum Christmas Miracle fully incarnated.

“Grace, that thing I said about you being naïve. I’m sorry. I’m such a cynic, you know. I think the new job is great. I do want you to care about your work.” She reached over and squeezed my arm. “I’m going to give you some money. How much do you need?”

“I think I’m okay right now, Mom. Thank you.”

“All right. You’ll tell me if you need help, won’t you?”

“Of course. You’ll be the first.”

It was my last week at Spender-Davis and I didn’t have any work to do. I watched old Kids in the Hall on YouTube, cleaned out my files, and packed the little that I was taking with me in a box.

I emptied my desk drawers. Jeez, the crap that accumulates! Mangled paper clips. A United Way brass lapel pin, missing the back clasp. Open, leaking sugar packets. Red pencils with no remaining eraser. Sticky pennies. An earth-painted marble that was in the drawer when I moved in. I decided I might take it with me; it was kind of pretty. I tried to slip it in the pocket of my jeans but dropped it under the desk. I went after it.

Scuffed black boots darkened my doorway. I experienced instant, mindless recognition of a particular scratch across the

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