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But it was time to move on. I comforted myself knowing it had been my decision, not Rebecca’s. She just preferred to fire me instead of letting me quit.
I walked out to the backyard and found Grace sitting on the porch reading a book. She looked up at me and smiled. Her look was filled with such kindness and compassion, I could hardly stand it. She stood up, opening her arms for a hug. I happily accepted her embrace as she held me. A small sob wracked my body, and she lightly patted my back.
“I just came to drop off the keys,” I said, pulling away, wiping my tears, and jiggling the keys.
“Keep them. You’ll always be my family and you’re welcome here anytime. This is your home–and my great grandchild’s home.”
Her words made more tears well in my eyes. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I had done enough crying the past few days, and I was ready to be about done.
“That’s really sweet of you, Grace,” I said. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me. I’m always happy to help out.”
“In that case,” she said. “Sit with me awhile.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry,” I said eventually, sighing. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.”
“There is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m just glad that you’ve finally been freed from this. You’re young. You should be out there,” she said gesturing beyond the trees, “experiencing life. Not cooped up with a couple of old farts like us. You should be excited about this next chapter. I’m excited for you.” Grace clutched my hand, and I realized I was going to miss this. She always gave the best advice.
“Don’t worry about what’s going on,” she continued. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
We fell into silence again as I absorbed her words.
“So, what’s next?” she finally asked.
“I’m going to continue at the bakery,” I said confidently. “I’m even thinking about culinary school so I can perfect my skills to make the bakery more sophisticated. There is a program in New York that focuses on both culinary skills and business. I know it'll take a lot more than delicious cookies and cakes to take the bakery where I want it to go.”
Grace chuckled.
“You should do that,” she said. “But only if it brings you joy. Remember to focus on the joy in life. Enjoy your pregnancy as much as you can, and give yourself plenty of grace, because pregnancy is sometimes awful.”
My laugh was watery from the tears trying to escape.
“What about Tristan?” I asked her slowly. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?” She began rubbing my hand, and I melted into calm relaxation. But my mind refused to clear.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “My head is just so cloudy.”
"Your worst fears have happened, dear. No one's died. What's left? What more is there to be afraid of? What's stopping you from doing what you really want to in life? With who you want to do it with? Don't get to my age and wish you had done something differently."
The words were so big, I could hardly hold them in my head. I would have to let the words sink in.
“Well, in the meantime, you should do something that makes you happy. A little happiness helps clear the head,” she said, grasping my hand tightly. “William and I are going to pay for your culinary school.”
I started to protest, but she held my hand even tighter.
“We want to do this for you, Arya. We insist,” she said, looking me deep in my eyes. “You’ve put up with too much at the hands of this family. There’s so much inside of you and I know you’re going to do amazing things. Don't let some silly people in a silly small town dim your light. And don’t think, for a second, we can’t afford it. Tristan’s mother likes to conveniently forget where the seed money for the distillery came from. They aren’t the wealthiest Adlers in this town.” Grace gave me a mischievous wink. "I just let her pay for things since it makes her feel important."
I leaned over and hugged Grace, completely speechless.
“Thank you Grace. Not just for this, but for everything you've done for me. Ever. I’m going to miss being here.”
“I hope you won’t be a stranger,” she said. “How long will you be gone?”
“The first term is three months, then I’ll come back.”
The idea of leaving made me sad.
