Chapter Twenty-One - GRACIE

Gracie had done her best not to show Mark how nervous she was about him coming over to her house. She had been the one to invite him, of course, but she’d always had the mentality that it was better to just get it over with. If he was going to meet her parents eventually, might as well do it today. It wasn’t only her parents she was nervous about, though. It was all the little people who would probably attack Mark by jumping on him or want to wrestle.

Gracie had casually mentioned Mark’s visit at breakfast that morning, but there was nothing casual about her family’s response. Gracie’s little sisters had immediately run upstairs to grab their Barbie dolls, intent on making Mark be Ken when he played with them later. Her brothers had insisted he’d want to toss a football in the backyard, while Gracie’s thirteen-year-old sister didn’t seem to care either way. She had only asked if Mark was cute, and then went upstairs to do her nails.

Gracie had tried to explain to them that he wouldn’t be there to play, that he was actually coming over to see Gracie, but no one seemed to listen. Her parents had been the worst. Her mother had immediately started baking, and then insisting Mark stay for dinner. Her father hadn’t said anything at all, just seemed to size Gracie up, like he was wondering if the boy was good enough for his eldest daughter.

“Oh, he’s in trouble,” she murmured to herself as she dressed for church.

Gracie wasn’t completely sure what had been taught that day in their Sunday meetings. She was sure it had something to do with Jesus, but her mind had been elsewhere. After their meetings had finished, her parents stopped to talk for longer than usual, so by the time they got home, Gracie only had fifteen minutes before Mark was due to arrive. She used the time to clean up the house the best she could, but it was in a constant state of disarray, so her feeble attempts didn’t do much to make things more presentable.

At exactly one o’clock, the doorbell rang.

Gracie wouldn’t have expected anything less.

Her family rushed in, and Gracie had to force them all back. “You are to keep five feet between you and Mark at all times. Is that understood?” she said with her most commanding voice. Everyone grinned and refused to answer, so she glared at them until they all promised.

With a deep breath, she opened the door.

Mark stood there wearing a polo shirt that was so white it was hard to look at. Gracie was glad to see he hadn’t gone completely formal on her, as he wore it with blue jeans, and he had gone with a tousled hair look.

His eyes widened when he saw her. “You look beautiful,” he said.

Gracie had worn her hair down for church, so her curls fell over her shoulders. She had chosen a simple yellow dress, but the top portion was more fitted with three-quarter sleeves, and the bottom flared out at her knees. Considering Mark’s reaction, she was glad she hadn’t taken the time to change.

“Invite him in,” her dad called out.

Gracie’s cheeks heated. “Just five minutes, I promise,” she whispered, before leading Mark into her living room. Her family, thankfully, were true to their word, though it seemed her younger siblings were struggling with their promise. Her twin sisters kept bouncing on their toes, like they wanted to rush him.

“Everyone, this is…Markus,” she said. “Markus, this is everyone.” There. Quick and simple. Hopefully that satisfied everyone.

“You can call me Mark, though,” he added.

Gracie couldn’t stop a grin from spreading. She knew how hard this had to be for him, but he was handling it so smoothly. And he had suggested they call him by a nickname—which she knew had to be a first. He hadn’t even given her that luxury, she had just started calling him Mark, and he’d been kind enough to go along with it.

“This is a bit of a surprise for us, Mark,” Gracie’s dad said. Oh no. The whole family still stood in a semi-circle around them and Gracie hoped this didn’t turn into an interrogation.

“Trust me, it is just as much of a surprise for me, sir. I never expected your daughter to give me a second look, let alone give me a chance.”

Ooh. Good answer.

Gracie’s dad must have thought so too, because he smiled. “Well, she is something special.”

“And I promise to treat her as such.”

Apparently that sealed the deal, because her mom walked up and gave Mark a tight hug before welcoming him to the family.

“Mom,” Gracie muttered. “We just started dating. Give the guy a break.”

“Which makes him one of us now,” her mom insisted, loud enough for Mark to hear.

“And…we’re out of here,” Gracie said, grabbing Mark’s hand. She pulled him upstairs and ignored the protests of her siblings, who wanted him to play dolls and football with them.

When Mark and Gracie reached her room, she pulled him inside.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to play dolls with your sisters?” he asked, casting a wary look down the stairs. “If you want me to, I’ll do it.”

Gracie grinned. It was obvious that was the last thing Mark wanted to do, but the fact that he was willing to made her like him even more.

“I’d rather they not scare you off right away,” she said. “Besides, I have something else planned for today.”

Mark looked around, seeming to realize for the first time where they were. He wiped his hands on his pants and whispered, “Am I allowed to be in here?”

“Don’t think of it as my bedroom, think of it as my art studio,” she said. Walking over to the far wall, she held out her hands like she was an assistant on a game show. “Here is one I like to call Alley Cat.”

Mark walked over to the wall and stared. It was Gracie’s first attempt at graffiti art, and she hadn’t been able to decide if she liked it or not. She had sprayed a giant cat but used about ten different colors. Its eyes were wide and seemed to be asking, “Who you looking at?” If you weren’t looking closely, you’d miss the small smirk and the spray paint can the cat held behind its back.

“It’s brilliant,” Mark finally said, unable to tear his gaze away from the picture. “I mean it. It’s awesome.” He wandered over to her other walls, lingering at an ocean scene that featured teenage dolphins. One had braces, another had acne. He spun back toward Gracie. “I’m serious. You have a true talent for this kind of thing.”

“Thanks,” she said, heat traveling up her neck and into her cheeks. She didn’t generally show people her artwork. The only ones who had been up to her room were her three best friends.

“I believe in you,” Mark said, taking a step toward her. “If you want a career as an artist, I say go for it. This is something you love—that you’re passionate about.” He moved in close enough to wrap his arms around her waist. “And I am all about going after what you are passionate about.”

Gracie’s breath hitched, but then he waggled his eyebrows at her, leaving her laughing instead.

“I’ve actually decided to take a little bit of a different route.”

“Oh?”

She swallowed hard. This would be the first time she would declare out loud the decision she’d made on the trip. This would make it real. Gracie turned away from Mark, and his arms fell away. She eyed a blank canvas. “I’m going to give you a little demonstration.”

When she turned back to Mark, he seemed a bit nervous. “You aren’t going to paint me nude or something, are you?” he asked. “I’ve heard about you artists doing that type of thing.”

“Do you mean paint a portrait of you nude, or actually painting your nude body? Because artists do both,” Gracie said, trying to keep a straight face. “I once saw a video where a woman had an artist paint clothes on her, and she went out in public. People thought she was dressed. They had no idea she was naked. Isn’t that insane?”

“Uh-huh.” Mark started to inch his way back toward the door, but Gracie grabbed his hand and pulled him back toward her.

“I’m teasing,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. “There will be no nudity.”

Mark eyed her warily, like he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. “O-kay.”

Gracie led him to a stool in front of an easel that held a blank canvas. “Actually, you are going to be the one doing the painting today.” She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed he was paler now than he had been when he’d thought he was going to have to go nude.

“You saw my stick-figure drawing—I don’t do art,” he said, moving to stand back up.

“I’m not asking you to be Van Gogh,” Gracie said. “I want to try an experiment. Please.”

Mark didn’t seem thrilled by the idea, but he eventually relented and stayed seated.

Gracie pulled up a stool of her own and sat down, facing him. “How have things gone with your dad since we got back?” she asked.

“That’s…a bit off topic,” Mark said slowly.

“Not as much as you’d think. Have you told him your decision about school?”

He shook his head and his gaze dropped. “No. I pretended to sleep in this morning so I wouldn’t have to see him, and then left to come here when he was in the shower.”

Aw, man. He looked miserable. Gracie hoped she hadn’t made a mistake. She placed a paintbrush in his hand and said, “It’s going to be tough to keep that up.”

Mark shrugged.

“Paint how that feels.”

Mark’s gaze met hers, his eyes wide with questions, but he didn’t say anything. Just stared.

“Please, trust me. Paint.”

He gave a small nod, then dipped the brush into the blue paint. He hesitated, the brush hovering just above the canvas. Finally, he allowed himself to stroke it across. He used a little more blue, but then switched to green. A little yellow crept in there, as well as a dash of pink. Mark paused and a deep frown settled over his features as he stared at the canvas. After a moment, he rinsed his brush, but he didn’t set it down as Gracie had expected. Instead, he dipped it in red, and then aggressively slashed over everything he’d done up to that point. It looked like something had clawed its way out of the canvas.

Gracie didn’t say anything or try to stop him. She waited until he was done, and when he held the paintbrush out to her, his hand shaking, she took it from him. She set it aside, then wrapped him in her arms.

Mark eventually stopped shaking. “I blame him,” he whispered. “I blame him for everything. He’s the reason my mom left and why I’m so screwed up. If I had a mom, I wouldn’t have been forced to do homework all day and night. I’d be allowed to date.” He paused. “I’d have friends.” He sucked in a deep breath. When he released it, he surprised Gracie by smiling. “Holy cow, I haven’t felt this good in ages. What kind of voodoo magic was that?”

Gracie returned his smile. “It’s a little something called art therapy. To be honest, I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to be done, but painting always helps me find clarity. And it seemed to help a little Amish girl. So I’m going to go for it. I’m going to use something I’m passionate about to help other people.”

“Thank you,” he said. Gracie noticed he had paint on his white polo shirt. When she pointed it out, he shrugged. “This will become my painting shirt.”

A fountain of excitement and longing and attraction bubbled up from her gut, and she pulled Mark in for a kiss. But then, as his kisses trailed across her lips and over to her ear, something pulled her out of her reverie.

“Hold on,” she said, placing a finger to his lips. “Did you say you aren’t allowed to date?”