A/N: So no amount of excuses can possible explain why I haven't posted in...several months. Honestly, for about three months I didn't write any fanfic at all, only original stuff. Now I think I'm going to finish this story (and, obviously, the trilogy it completes) and probably retire from ff, sadly. I'm immersed in several original stories.
In ANY case, I will not be abandoning TB, so I can promise that before I go to college in August this will be completed. This chapter was originally going to cover much more time-going all the way to Christmas-but as you'll soon see, the first day got a little out of control and took on a mind of its own...
I love you all! Happy reading and thanks for sticking with me!!!
Chapter Three:
Blast from the Past
I'm tuggin' at my hair I'm pullin' at my clothes I'm tryin' to keep my cool I know it shows I'm starin' at my feet My cheeks are turnin' red I'm searchin' the words inside my head I'm feelin' nervous Tryin' to be so perfect 'Cause I know you're worth it
Avril Lavigne's "Things I'll Never Say"
After a few moments Nate managed to pull himself together and repress his jealousy. He should have expected this, after all. Charlie existed, therefore he must have a father. His steps leading him down the hall toward the kitchen where the happy family was conversing were slow and steady. He wasn't halfway down the hall when Charlie appeared from around the corner, running past Nate and into his bedroom. Nate couldn't repress a half smile-he'd never seen the boy so excited.
He could see into the kitchen as he entered the living room, he could see the refrigerator and the counter top through the doorway. He knew Grace and that Tom Flint character were seated at the dinner table just around the corner. He couldn't see them and they couldn't see him-but he could hear them just fine.
Eavesdropping was rude, but useful at times. Nate had never intended to eavesdrop, but when he heard his name he couldn't help sneaking forward and listening intently. It was Grace speaking, and it appeared she was answering a question.
"His name is Nate, and he's a good kid, Tom. He works with me at the diner Charlie told you about and he's really patient with Charlie...Lord knows that's not easy."
"No," Tom chuckles, "But seriously, Grace. He's LIVING with you? Are you sure that's entirely safe?"
"He's completely innocent. He doesn't know anything about my history," she replied, rather defensively.
"Well, that's not necessarily a good thing," Tom replied.
"Why not? If he knows nothing, how can he be a danger?"
"I'm not implying that he's dangerous," he replied calmly, "Grace, do you really think its fair to him? I mean, you're living together and..." his voice trailed off.
"Are you implying that we have a...a...romantic relationship of some kind?" Grace sounded scandalized. "Tom! He's just a kid!"
"So are you," he reminded her. "You're only twenty-four, Grace. He can't be any more than two years younger. You're beautiful, you're fun, you're generous...and you're sleeping a few feet away. He's bound to react eventually."
"I'm also secretive, sarcastic, and cautious, besides being a mother," Grace snapped. "Nate isn't stupid enough to 'react' at all. I don't intend on being involved in any relationship with anyone ever."
"I don't see why," Tom replied. "Is this about James?"
"James?!" Grace echoed incredulously. "Merlin, Tom, that was a childhood crush. I haven't seen him in...in...almost a decade. What in the blazes makes you think this has anything to do with James Potter? I just don't...don't...don't love. I can't love, I don't know how. Nate deserves better in any case."
"I don't understand you sometimes," Tom replied, sighing deeply, "You say he's a good kid, he treats Charlie well, you obviously respect him if you're letting him sleep here..."
"Just stop, Tom, it's really none of your damn business," she snapped.
"I'm sorry," he replied, "I just wanted--"
"Don't apologize," she snapped. There was a moment of tense silence in which Nate realized that their relationship, whatever it was, was more strained than he had thought.
"I just want you to be happy, and the best for Charlie," Tom finally said quietly.
"I know," she replied.
"But I do think you should tell him...at least some part of your past, Grace," he continued firmly. Nate heartily agreed; he was thoroughly curious by then.
"I will...eventually," she replied.
"Interesting conversation, isn't it?" a small voice whispered from somewhere around Nate's waist. He jumped and looked down to see Charlie, who was eavesdropping just as shamelessly.
"Yes," Nate replied, for lack of something better.
"Hello Mother, hello Sensei," Charlie said in a clear voice, walking calmly into the kitchen as if he hadn't been listening. Nate couldn't help but be grateful, because following Charlie made him look less suspicious. He wondered why in the world Charlie called his father "sensei". Was it a British thing? He had always known Grace grew up in Britain, but they talked about it so little and Charlie had always seemed so American that it had never occurred to Nate that his father must be British as well.
"Hey chap, ready to go?" Tom asked his son. Nate couldn't help it-he loved hearing a real, honest-to-God Brit say the word "chap". It was just so very...British.
"Yes," Charlie replied, nodding. He turned solemnly to Grace, "I hope you have a fun time today, Mother. You aren't disappointed that I'm leaving, are you?"
"Well, a little," Grace replied with the smile she reserved only for her son, "But I'm glad you're going with your father. Just be home on time!"
"No worries, Gracie," Tom replied. She winced at the sound of the nickname. Nate felt an unholy surge of triumph. "We'll be back by ten. See you then."
"Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Nate," Charlie said with a grin as he followed Tom out of the apartment. The boy looked more his age than Nate had ever seen him. He heard Grace sigh deeply. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"I didn't realize..." Nate began, not really knowing how he intended to finish the sentence.
"I should have told you about Tom," she said quietly, not looking over at him. Nate bit his lip, but continued doggedly on.
"Is there anything else you should have told me about?" he asked gently. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up, but somehow he didn't think she was really smiling.
"Exactly how much of our conversation did you overhear?" she asked. Nate felt his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.
"Grace, I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear-"
"You're a horrible liar," Grace interrupted flatly, "But I don't blame you. I'd be damned curious too, in your position. Sit down and I'll tell you a bit about myself."
"Alright," he agreed meekly. He didn't like this businesslike tone at all. She stalled for a few moments, busying herself with something at the counter. When she sat down, she handed him a teacup and placed her own in front of her. And surprisingly, the cups actually contained tea. Real tea...Nate had only had hot tea a few times in his life. It was amazing, how British she suddenly became.
"I was born twenty-four years ago in England. My parents were wealthy; they worked in the government. I was their only child. However, I had several cousins and my godparents' children to play with all my life, so I never really felt lonely. When I was eleven I was sent to a boarding school in Scotland with my two best friends-my cousin Angel and my godfather's son James."
"Uh-huh," Nate replied, more to show he was listening than anything else. He didn't understand what boarding school had to do with anything.
"There were a lot of intra-school rivalries, between old families and whatnot...it's rather complicated," Grace continued, choosing her words carefully. "Anyway, there was one boy a year older than us. We hated him and he hated us for a long time. His name was Tom Flint."
"Tom as in Charlie's father?" Nate asked dubiously.
"Right," she replied, looking rather uncomfortable. "Now, in Scotland...well actually, throughout Britain there is...there is a particular gang...a lot of hoodlums, you understand, kids who are out of control. Well, Tom was in that gang. It was the gang my parents kept trying to stomp out at work.
"I don't know how it got started really. I guess it was because it was all so very illegal and exciting and I had been a law enforcer's daughter all my life. It was stupid, really, but I was sixteen and invincible and I wanted a change of pace. So I started talking to kids in the gang, started not hanging around my old friends..."
"And that's when you got involved with Tom?" Nate supplied helpfully.
Grace hesitated for a moment. That would be such an easy explanation, so simple, she could just say she and Tom had a fling and that was that. The thought made her sick. She'd have to invent a less convincing but nearer-to-the-truth lie.
"Actually, no. Tom was carrying on a relationship with my cousin, Angel," she explained. That was the solid truth, at any rate. "He was still in touch with the gang, but not a major player any more. Of course, we all went out and partied and drank. One night he came back to school more drunk than I had ever seen anyone. I look almost exactly like my cousin and he...well..."
"Oh," Nate replied as flushed cheeks and averted eyes, not words, conveyed her meaning, "Did you...er...want him to...er...?"
"No," she whispered.
"Oh,"
There was a long silence. Grace's eyelids were moving rapidly. Nate hadn't been so confused or angry since his parents died.
"He felt horrible afterward," she continued in a whisper. "He's not a bad person, Nate, really. We both just put it behind us and I was trying to get out of the gang but by that time I was too far in...Tom kept me out of serious trouble after that. But then, two months later, I took the test and realized I was pregnant."
"That must have been...a terrible experience," Nate said softly, gently, trying to understand.
"I've never been so scared," she continued, almost as if she hadn't been interrupted. "My parents would have flipped..."
"What do you mean, would have?" Nate interrupted suddenly, "Didn't you have to tell them eventually?"
His response was the last thing he had been expecting. She laughed. It was not her usual laugh. It was cold, even for Grace.
"No," she replied bitterly. "I didn't tell anyone. It didn't matter, because only a few weeks later my other best friend, James, found out I was in the gang and promptly turned me into our parents. My dad flipped. I ran...fled the country. Charlie was actually born in France. We probably both would have died in the slums of Paris if Tom hadn't tracked us down. He had graduated-he was a year ahead, you remember-and he was independently wealthy. He sent us here, to America, and we've kind of drifted around the country. Without him I'd certainly be either in a charity shelter in Paris or a homeless shelter in New York. He adores Charlie."
"I...I had no idea," Nate stammered.
"I didn't expect you to," she replied. "He's married to my cousin Angel now. They're completely happy. My whole family thinks I'm dead. He's asked me a couple of times to go back, present Charlie-they don't know he exists, you know-and make amends. I won't though. I prefer life here."
"In practical poverty?" Nate asked gently. She shrugged.
"It's my life now," she explained.
"I'm sorry," he said, placing his hand over her limp, pale hand lying lifeless on the table. "I didn't know I was stirring such painful memories."
"It's alright," she replied, seeming to brighten suddenly. But Nate knew her better than that. She was putting all those dark thoughts away, locking them in the back of her mind. It was an exceedingly dangerous thing to do, to bottle one's emotions like that, but who was Nate to tell Grace how to run her own mind? "So, with Charlie gone, what shall we do with the rest of our day?"
"Oh yeah, we don't have to work!" Nate declared. It was one of the very, very few days both were given free. They were planning to take Charlie around and...well, make it up as they went along. However, apparently Charlie was now out of the agenda. The idea was strange to Nate.
"My, aren't we the bright bulb today?" Grace remarked sarcastically. She stood and took his cup. It was empty. He couldn't remember drinking the tea.
"I'm always like this," he pointed out.
"Well, what do you want to do?" she asked, torn between exasperation and amusement.
"I don't know, what do you want to do?" he asked childishly in return.
"You've been living here longer than I have," Grace pointed out. "What is there to do in Philadelphia?"
"I've only been here a few months longer," Nate replied reasonably, "I mean, there's all the history of us Americans beating you redcoats a few years back," Grace rolled her eyes. He grinned and continued, "Okay, no then. Well there are a few museums and a zoo and-"
"You know," she said vaguely, "I've never been to a zoo."
"Are you serious?!" Nate exclaimed.
"Sadly yes," she replied in exaggerated lament.
"Well, that settles that," Nate said, jumping to his feet, "To the zoo it is!"
Grace didn't have any time to argue even if she had wanted to. He pulled her to her feet and half-dragged her out the door. She barely had time to grab her purse. The spontaneous nature of it all felt fantastic. Grace hadn't done anything spontaneous for fun in ages.
The bus stop wasn't far from the apartment. Although Grace had traveled by bus many times in America (mostly on the run from Damien and his cronies) every time she saw one she was still sharply reminded of the Knight Bus. If she hesitated even for a moment before boarding the bus, Nate didn't notice. As they found the only empty seat and made themselves comfortable Grace made a firm vow to live for the moment if only for that day. Charlie was perfectly safe with Tom (or at least as close to being perfectly safe as was possible with Charlie) and she didn't have to work and...and...
She could spend the whole day totally alone with Nate McCoy.
She didn't realize how happy she was about that particular detail until that moment on the crowded bus. She glanced over at Nate, who grinned back at her in return. Her spirits lifted. For just this day, she vowed again, I'm going to live like every other young, carefree Muggle woman in Philadelphia.
As they climbed out of the bus and started walking toward the entrance of the zoo Grace reached into her purse and started rummaging for her wallet. She stopped when she felt a calloused hand on her arm.
"What?" she asked, looking up. Had his hands always been that strong?
"I'm paying," he replied simply. She stared at him.
"What?" she said again, confused, "Nate, there's no need to-"
"No, Grace, I insist," he said, smiling, "It's your day to relax."
She opened her mouth to argue, and then remember her vow. (Had he been reading her mind?) What young, carefree Muggle woman in her right mind could refuse?
Grace never vowed to be in her right mind, but she decided not to refuse anyway.
"Alright then," she said, smiling, "If you're sure."
"Certainly I'm sure," he replied. Grace nearly lost her resolve when they actually reached the ticket counter and she read the exorbitant fees for entrance to the zoo, but Nate had paid and lead her through the turnstile before she had time to politely phrase an objection. He handed her a colorful brochure that appeared to be a guide to the zoo.
"They have a white tiger this month!" Nate exclaimed, scanning the guide. "That's incredible!"
"I've never seen a regular tiger," Grace confessed, biting back a grin at Nate's boyish delight.
"Well then, we'll start over here and work our way toward the tiger house," he explained, gesturing to the map as he planned their course.
"And afterward we can eat something in the Tiger Café," Grace said, leaning to look at Nate's map instead of opening her own. Her head came to rest on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before he folded the brochure and slipped it into his pocket.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Time was rollicking faster than Grace could ever remember. The morning was spent lazily touring the park, and then they spent most of the afternoon in the Tiger House after a brief lunch. Nate seemed to be going out of his way to make her laugh whenever he could. Grace's cheeks hurt from smiling. She never smiled this much.
They left the zoo at sunset. After debating good-naturedly for a few minutes they walked to a restaurant four blocks away. The sky was ablaze with violent reds, oranges, and pinks. Somehow Nate's arm slipped around Grace's waist. She didn't mind.
It was more upscale than Melinda's, a completely feasible accomplishment, so Grace insisted that they split the bill. She had chicken cordon bleu and he had shrimp. They split a mountain of ice cream, brownie, and hot fudge for dessert. It was the best meal Grace had had in years. It was the first time she had eaten out in ages, the second time she had had dinner without Charlie. For some reason she wasn't thinking about any of these things.
By the time dinner was finished the sun had set completely. The sky was littered with stars so bright they were visible even through the glaring city lights. Grace and Nate walked slowly to the bus station. The bus pulled up to the corner just as they reached it. With a start, Grace realized she had spent a whole day not worrying. It was a strange thought.
The bus was empty enough that they didn't have to sit in the same seat. They did anyway. Grace's head fell on Nate's shoulder and she nearly fell asleep. She felt warm and oddly safe...a blissful feeling.
She groaned when the bus stopped and Nate stood, forcing her to do the same. She had been so very comfortable. Nate seemed to find this very amusing, teasing her about her now quite messy hair. She didn't mind.
The apartment was completely empty when they entered it. Apparently Tom hadn't yet returned with Charlie. It was strange, really, to walk in that dark, deserted room with Nate and know Charlie wasn't cooking in the kitchen or reading in his room. She shivered.
"You cold?" Nate asked quietly as he flipped the light switch. "We have some instant hot chocolate in the kitchen. I can make some."
"I don't doubt it," Grace replied, smiling, "Even you can't burn hot chocolate."
"Ha ha," he replied sarcastically, "You underestimate my crazy burning skills," he continued, leading the way into the kitchen. Grace fell into one of the three wooden chairs as Nate rifled through the cupboards until he found the hot chocolate. In moments there were two mugs in the microwave.
"I had fun today," Grace commented softly. Nate turned and leaned against the counter, watching her with a half-smile.
"Good," he replied seriously, "You don't have enough fun, Grace."
"What makes you say that?" she asked curiously. He shrugged.
"You're a young, single mother and you take that job very seriously. Of course, Charlie's a pretty serious kid. Look, that's not a bad thing, but sometimes I worry that you never let yourself loosen up," he said.
"Am I that uptight?" she demanded, only half joking.
"Well...yeah," Nate looked a bit uncomfortable, but he refused to back down. "Fun is good, Grace. I mean, I know now that you've had a hell of a past, you and Charlie both, but I think that maybe...maybe it's time to let go of all that. I mean; what's the point of turning back now?"
"Yeah..." Grace muttered, almost to herself. "Yeah, you're right. How do you understand me, Nate?"
Nate was saved from answering the abrupt question by the loud, obnoxious beeping from the microwave. Grace stood as Nate opened the plastic door to retrieve the mugs. Apparently their conversation had affected him more than she realized. He was too rough with the mug and burning hot chocolate splashed onto his hand. He swore and quickly but carefully put the mug on the table.
"Are you alright?" Grace demanded.
"Yeah," he replied, scowling mildly at his hand. "I can't believe I just did that."
"Let me see," she said, taking his hand and studying it intently. It was red, but nothing worse. What did she expect? It was only hot chocolate after all.
"Well doc, will you need to amputate?" Nate asked quietly, the laughter back in his voice. She looked up, realizing how very close they were.
"I don't think so," she whispered. Her stomach was fluttering and her hands were clammy. She felt her breathing quicken as his arms encircled her waist. Her mind went completely blank as his lips met hers.
His kiss was understandably hesitant. Grace's first instinct was to shove him away, but for reasons even she did not comprehend she returned the kiss, wrapping her small arms around his shoulders and closing her eyes. Beneath her eyelids was a world of vibrant color. Nate's burned hand and his hot chocolate were forgotten.
She didn't think of Tom. She didn't think of James. She didn't think of Charlie. She didn't think of anything. She just kissed Nathaniel McCoy as if there were no tomorrow, as if nothing or no one in the world mattered outside of that moment. Those few precious minutes changed Grace's life forever...she had never felt such unreserved affection from anyone. She knew that he was different from the romances she'd imagined as a child-she could feel it in his crushing embrace and the pressure of his kiss.
To her own surprise Grace was disappointed when Nate finally pulled away. He took a long shuddering breath. "Grace," he said, his voice deeper than usual.
"Nate," she whispered in return, her voice, by contrast, almost an octave higher than her normal pitch. He reached for her again.
The door opened. Surprised, Grace and Nate leapt apart like guilty teenagers. Their eyes didn't meet as Charlie's voice floated into the kitchen from the living room. "Mother? Nate? Are you home?"
"Yes, Charlie," Grace replied, chancing a heartbeat's glance at Nate before hurrying to greet her son. Nate followed more slowly. Grace was chattering light-heartedly with Charlie about his day. Tom was lingering awkwardly in the doorway, watching the scene with a distant smile that, for some reason, put him just one notch higher in Nate's estimation.
"Central Park, Mother! It was beautiful! I don't see why we never went there when we lived in New Jersey, it wasn't far away."
"You went all the way to New York to see a park?" Grace demanded teasingly. "There are plenty in Philadelphia."
"It's not the same," Charlie replied seriously, "I know the park is dangerous at night, but in the daylight it is quite aesthetically pleasing. You would have enjoyed it."
"I had best return to England before Ginny realizes I've been gone longer than I should be," Charlie's father interrupted hesitantly.
"Your mother-in-law for your boss, what a burden you bear," Grace remarked sardonically. Nate's eyebrows rose at this comment. Tom caught the other man's look and shrugged sheepishly.
"It isn't easy," he admitted with only a hint of sarcastic martyrdom. "Which is why I must take my leave. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. McCoy. Good evening Grace. Good-bye, Charlie. I hope you had fun."
"I assure you the outing was most satisfactory," Charlie replied, "Until Christmas then, Sensei."
Without further conversation Tom turned suddenly, shutting the door gently behind him. Charlie yawned.
"Pardon my rudeness," he said, "But I am quite exhausted. I hope you both enjoyed your day. Goodnight Mother, goodnight Nate."
"Goodnight," the adults chorused together as Charlie walked briskly to his room and shut the door with a decisive snap. Grace's eyes shifted to meet Nate's.
"Perhaps I should go to bed too," she said softly. Nate nodded, moving to make the hallway accessible.
"Sweet dreams, Grace," he said uncertainly.
"Goodnight," she murmured, slipping past him and into her bedroom. Nate looked after her for a moment, before turning and preparing for another night on the sofa.
The next few days were unusually tense. Every word was carefully planned, every movement fraught with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Charlie pretended to continue with his everyday affairs as if unaffected by the atmosphere. Neither adult was foolish enough for fall for his guise. This only contributed to the anxiety plaguing them both.
"A grilled cheese sandwich and a strawberry milkshake, please," Crazy Christa said pleasantly, slipping into her usual place at 8:59 as Nate turned the cardboard sign on the door from open to close. Grace smiled, nodded, and returned to the kitchen to whip up some hot chocolate. The grilled cheese was waiting. Honestly, that woman is just too strange, Grace thought tolerantly as she carried the familiar meal to her waiting customer.
Christa looked up at Grace and winked as the meal was presented with an exaggerated flourish. "Thank ye, lassie," she said in a sudden Scottish accent. Grace repressed a shudder. The accent was unnervingly accurate.
"She's a weirdo," Nate commented quietly through a crooked smile as he and Grace began cleaning the counters and tables. Jim grunted in their direction before limping through the doorway. Grace sighed and wondered if the old cook had been so grumpy before he lost his ability to talk.
"There are stranger people in the world," Grace replied, her eyes still following Jim. Nate followed her glance and chuckled. Crazy Christa finished her sandwich and left the precise price plus a dollar tip on the table without waiting for a bill. She hobbled out as Nate collected her dishes. They were the last to be washed.
"Everyone's a bit strange in their own way, I guess," Nate said lightly, continuing the conversation. Grace shrugged.
"Are we done?" she asked, shivering slightly, "It's not that long of a walk, but it's dark and cold. I want to get moving."
"It's always dark and cold," Nate reminded her with pardonable sarcasm. "If you're so anxious, go on home. I can finish up here."
"But-" Grace began to protest before she had a reason to disagree. Nate and Grace always walked home side-by-side, even if they had been snipping at each other at work and they walked in silence, they walked together.
"But what?" Nate demanded, throwing his rag on the counter and turning to Grace.
"I want to walk with you," she said softly, realizing how very silly she sounded. He sighed.
"I can't do this forever, Grace," he said solemnly, his normally soft face practically chiseled in stone. "I heard what you told Tom about me not being stupid enough to react. So call me stupid, but this is ridiculous. We can't go on pretending nothing ever happened."
"I know," Grace's head drooped. She felt very young. "I'm just not...quite...ready, I suppose."
"Ready for what?" Nate asked.
"I don't know!" she snapped, anger replacing her guilt. "Stop asking me all these questions!"
"Stop avoiding the answers!" he commanded with equal fire. They stood glaring at each other in silence for a few moments.
Nate's eyes dropped first, his cheeks flushed with bright color. When he spoke his voice was strangled, as if he were forcing every syllable. "I'm sorry, Grace. But I have to know what it is you want. I need to know if...if there's even a chance that some day..." His eyes slowly traveled back to find her face. To his surprise, she had turned. He studied her hunched shoulders, her bowed head and the fiery hair that tumbled from it.
His few steps to reach her were agonizingly slowly. His gentle, calloused hands fell softly on her shoulders. She took a shuddering breath before turning to face him. Two individual shining streaks marred her normally closed countenance. Her eyes glittered brilliantly with unshed tears.
"Grace," Nate murmured, his guilty eyes searching her face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
"It's not your fault," Grace whispered, her voice surprisingly steady.
"But it is, I had to open my big mouth-"
"Stop it, Nate, just stop it," she interrupted fiercely. "Stop blaming yourself for everything. I have faults, plenty of them, and you've just pointed out the worst. I have no idea what it is I want. Safety for Charlie, surely, but I don't want anything for myself. You're a great guy Nate, really you are, and..."
"And what?" Nate asked. He was trying very had not to pry.
"And...and maybe if...I mean..." she was more flustered than he had every seen her. It was more than a bit disconcerting. Her eyes sought his. The golden irises were fairly glowing. "Oh hell," she finally muttered. Without warning she threw her arms around his neck and brought her lips crashing into his.
Crazy Christa was sitting across the street, veiled in the darkness. She had to wait longer than usual, but eventually both young people left the diner, locking it behind them. As they turned and walked home, she noticed his hand enclosed hers. She smiled. Nothing like a pair of young lovers to make things more exiting...
She turned into an alley and disappeared. A report to the boss was in order.
"Happy birthday dear Charlie, happy birthday to you!" Nate and Grace crooned. Charlie laughed. Neither was blessed in the musical field, or, for that matter, in the culinary field. The cake appeared edible, but the frosting was decidedly lopsided. Eight candles shone brightly. Pastel wax slowly melted onto the cake.
"Make a wish," Nate instructed. It was a decidedly naïve command, which Charlie duly ignored. Wishes were for children. However, he did blow out every candle in one breath.
"What did you wish, Charlie?" his mother asked, winking. She knew very well that he would never degrade himself in such a fashion.
"He can't tell, Grace!" Nate cried in mock alarm. "If he says it out loud it won't come true."
"Better keep it a secret then," Grace winked at her son. Charlie grinned. He hadn't had such fun in ages.
"Of course," he said, reaching for the large piece of marble cake Grace had cut for him. The cake was too large for only the three of them, meaning cake for a week. This was not a problem for anyone; sweets were a rare treat in Grace's apartment.
"Eight years old!" Nate cried jubilantly after taking an insanely huge bite of cake. "How does it feel to be so ancient?"
"I'm the ancient one," Grace argued, smiling. "Goodness, I'll be needing a wheel chair soon." Charlie couldn't help but smile at the look on his mother's face. She was so happy with Nate...it was etched in every detail of her face.
"Don't be silly, Mother, you're still quite young and pretty," Charlie commented seriously.
"I believe the boy has a point!" Nate cried with exaggerated enthusiasm. Grace rolled her eyes.
"You boys are too much for an old woman like me," she teased.
"If you don't stop I'll find an old hag mask and make you wear it for Halloween," Nate threatened rudely. Grace laughed.
"I have a perfectly fine witch's costume, thank you," she informed him, "Charlie and I never fail the trick-or-treaters."
"What are you going as for trick-or-treat?" Nate asked Charlie.
"I don't go trick-or-treating," Charlie said haughtily. "I remain at home and distribute candy with Mother.
"No trick-or-treating?" Nate cried, as if this were a catastrophe of the worst kind. "Grace, what have you done to this poor kid? Hasn't he ever gone?"
"No," Charlie informed him with a certain degree of wounded vanity.
"That ends this year," Nate declared, waving his plastic fork for emphasis. Grace couldn't help it, she giggled. "Do you think this is funny?" he demanded, continuing with his mock outrage.
"Of course," she replied. The pathetic attempt at a scowl prevented her from teasing him any worse. "If you really feel that strongly about it, you and Charlie can go trick-or-treating for a little while," she said lightly.
"What about you?" Charlie asked, slightly dreading the answer.
"Someone has to hand out the treats," she reminded him. "You two will be perfectly fine."
"What do you say, Charlie?" Nate asked. The newly eight-year-old boy could clearly see the anxiety in his eyes. "It will be lots of fun."
"I suppose," Charlie relented. He was in a wonder that his mother's trust of Nate extended this far. "I do love candy," he commented, almost to himself. Nate grinned.
"Then Halloween is just the night for you," he said reassuringly
"You really love Halloween, don't you?" Charlie asked.
"It was my favorite night of the year when I was your age...well, Christmas first, and then my birthday, but THEN Halloween."
"You know who else loves Halloween..." Charlie murmured, almost to himself. His eyes locked with his mothers. Grace felt her heart skip a beat.
"Angel," she replied quietly.
"Happy Halloween!" Angel cried, wrapping her arms around James.
"Same to you Ang," James said breathlessly. "Ang...ANG! I can't breathe!"
"Give him some oxygen," Tom said, coming to James's rescue. "Nice costume, James," he commented, his eyes glittering with laughter.
"It's downright satirical," Angel contradicted, trying to sound stern and not betray her amusement. "Did you dye your hair black?"
"Of course!" James grinned, "It's part of the ensemble. It's you two who are satirical. Whose idea was this?"
Angel and Tom exchanged grins. Angel's dress was a gorgeous concoction of pure white silk and lace. Wings made of real white feathers emerged from her dainty shoulders, and a golden halo encircled her bright red hair. Tom played her counterpart, complete with long blood-red robes, horns, and a pitchfork. The reflection of their past and the personalities was, to a friend as close as James, hilarious.
"It was quite brilliant, if I do say so myself," Angel said, glowing with pride. She had undoubtedly made both costumes herself.
"This isn't any more ironic than your costume," Tom pointed out.
"You can't tell me I'm the only one who showed up here as Harry Potter," he said reasonably. Angel laughed.
"No, but you are the most believable. Your mother is going to have a fit of hysteria when she sees you dressed up as your father."
"I'm more curious about what Dad will say," James admitted sheepishly.
The conversation ended as more guests arrived. James wandered into the ballroom where the other guests were convening in small gossiping groups. Angel and Tom threw the largest Halloween party in England, inviting most of wizarding society. It was a privilege they inherited from Ginny and Draco. Ginny had been only too glad to let her daughter handle the enormous stress of the party. Draco seemed a bit nostalgic, but a few glasses of champagne always cured that malady.
James was fashionably late. The party was already in full swing. His costume provoked amused comments, particularly from his colleagues. They immediately caught the sarcasm he meant to portray. James grinned at them. This was actually rather cleansing...it allowed him to let go of the brewing resentment of being his father's son.
"James!" Hermione's voice pierced through the crowd. James turned to meet his mother, who was approaching him with the speed of an Auror's spell. She was unmistakably portraying Rowena Ravenclaw. "What in Merlin's name...is this your costume?"
"Quite accurate, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. Hermione's initial reaction of shock mingled with unreasonable insult melted under her son's smile.
"You've always looked just like your father," she said softly, pushing his now jet-black hair from his bangs.
"Speak of the devil," James said as his dad approached. Harry did a double take.
"And what's your costume?" Harry asked pleasantly, "A mirror?"
"Do I look like Dumbledore to you?" James asked, grinning at his father's choice of costume.
"Well, either you're using Polijuice or you're my son," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Polijuice," James replied seriously. Harry laughed.
"It's an ingenious idea, my boy," he said through his chuckles. "You make a better-looking me than I did at your age, if that makes any sense."
"It doesn't," Hermione informed him, rolling her eyes. James and Harry exchanged meaningful looks.
"Hermione!" a familiar voice interrupted them. Turning, James recognized Rayven Weasley despite her white Marie Antoinette wig. Ron, who wasn't the biggest fan of costume parties, had opted for the eternally simple Muggle evening dress. He had, however, added a monocle. The result was quite amusing.
They were soon joined with Ginny and Draco, attending as the czar and czarina of Russia. Ginny and Draco always had the most elaborate costumes. Before James knew what was happening he was lost in the inevitable fray of his family. Angel's brother Phil, an ancient Egyptian, made an appearance with his latest interest, a matching belly dancer. Hermione's look clearly stated her opinion of that costume. Then James's three siblings found their way to the family gathering. Liz was dressed as the queen of England whose name she shared. Luke had gone completely wild, dressing as one of the ancient Celtic gods. Anna, still in her last year at Hogwarts, had gotten special permission to attend the festivities and was dressed in her best dress robes and a tiara.
Tom and Angel joined them as soon as the last of the guests had arrived. Angel was dragging a photographer. "Family portrait!" she cried happily. James sighed. Getting the extended family to stand in a certain order for any period of time was always an adventure.
Eventually, however, they managed it. Angel and Tom stood at the center, clutching their children. Angel was fairly glowing. James smiled distantly. Let them have their moment, he thought tolerantly. He wasn't sure why he felt so out of place with the people he had grown up with. No, that was a lie. He knew perfectly well.
The photographer tried to make a complaint, but Angel cut him off, her smile strained for only an instant. The moment rippled through the family. There was an empty space in front of Rayven and Ron, in the middle of the line of James's generation. The photographer muttered something rude under his breath before snapping the picture, complete with the gap. Family tradition was not something to tamper with.
They always left one place open for Grace.
"Trick or treat!" a vampire, a zombie, and Barbie cried, holding jack-o-lantern bags bulging with goodies. Grace smiled.
"Pick two," she instructed, holding out a bowl of candy. The kids peered greedily inside. Small fingers fought to claim the most popular prizes. Grace had never believed in forcing a certain flavor of candy on the trick-or-treaters. It was their night, let them pick for crying out loud!
They were among the last of the candy-seeking kids. The official trick-or-treat time had ended ten minutes ago. Grace cast a worried glance at the clock. Charlie and Nate still hadn't returned.
Annoyed, she ripped open a miniature Three Musketeers. Chewing thoughtfully, she imagined how much fun she would have handing out magical candy. Muggle sweets were all right, but they had no comparison to sugar quills and Honeydukes fudge. She sighed wistfully. Ah the pleasures of European magical chocolate...
"Mother!" Charlie cried, practically flying through the door. Grace jumped. She had been totally immersed in thoughts of ice mice.
"Hello, Charlie. I take it you had a good time?" she remarked, noticing his flushed face and bright brown eyes.
"I've never seen so much chocolate," her son replied, trying to sound dignified. His secret glee crept into his voice. A pillowcase had served as his bag, and judging by the bulk Grace's neighbors were generous.
"Chocolate is one thing," Nate said in a teasing voice, "When we ran into those two princess you got really excited." Grace's eyebrows rose.
"I don't know what you're implying," Charlie replied indignantly, rising on his tiptoes as he turned to face Nate. "They were silly little girls."
"I don't know, they were pretty flirty..." Nate said, putting his hands in his pockets. Charlie flushed.
"Mother," he whined. Charlie never whined. The change was actually rather welcome.
"Nate, stop teasing him," Grace remonstrated gently. "Charlie, you ought to take your candy into your room."
"I wanted to give you a few, Mother," the boy explained.
"I'll be right back, if you'll excuse me," Nate said as Charlie dug through the pillowcase. He turned and slipped down the hall and into the bathroom.
"Aren't you going to give any to Nate?" Grace asked gently, sitting on the floor next to her son.
"I already did," Charlie replied, somewhat insulted. "We had a fine time, Mother."
"Good," she replied, taking the proffered Twix. Her brow furrowed as her son glanced over his shoulder to make sure Nate was still in the restroom. "What is it?" she asked.
"I just wanted to tell you about a vision I had while we were out," Charlie said. "Angel and Tom's Halloween party is going over well. James isn't enjoying it too much though. They took a family portrait."
"That's...nice, I guess," Grace replied uncomfortably. Charlie's eyes studied his mother intently.
"They left a space for you," he informed her.
"Did they?" she replied. Her surprise was genuine.
"They always do, Mother. Always," Charlie said softly. Grace looked down at her son curiously.
"Charlie, do you want me to return to Britain?" she asked.
"I?" Charlie's eyes opened very wide. "I want you to be happy, Mother. Britain never made you as happy as you are now."
The truth of this simple statement struck Grace like a blow to the stomach. Before she could reply Nate reentered the living room. "You two behaving yourselves?" he asked, his blue eyes glittering with laughter.
"Of course," Charlie replied, "I think I'll take my candy to my room now. Thank you, Nate, for taking me trick-or-treating. It was much more enjoyable than I had been lead to expect."
"Er...you're welcome," Nate replied. Charlie's speech patterns still had a disconcerting effect on Nate. He let out a sigh of relief as Charlie's door was shut with a gentle snap.
"Your son is quite an amazing individual," Nate commented, his arm encircling Grace's waist.
"Yes, he is," she replied. She laid her head on his shoulder. Warm contentment filled her.
Charlie had been unnervingly accurate. Britain did not offer the happiness she found with Nathaniel McCoy.
In ANY case, I will not be abandoning TB, so I can promise that before I go to college in August this will be completed. This chapter was originally going to cover much more time-going all the way to Christmas-but as you'll soon see, the first day got a little out of control and took on a mind of its own...
I love you all! Happy reading and thanks for sticking with me!!!
Chapter Three:
Blast from the Past
I'm tuggin' at my hair I'm pullin' at my clothes I'm tryin' to keep my cool I know it shows I'm starin' at my feet My cheeks are turnin' red I'm searchin' the words inside my head I'm feelin' nervous Tryin' to be so perfect 'Cause I know you're worth it
Avril Lavigne's "Things I'll Never Say"
After a few moments Nate managed to pull himself together and repress his jealousy. He should have expected this, after all. Charlie existed, therefore he must have a father. His steps leading him down the hall toward the kitchen where the happy family was conversing were slow and steady. He wasn't halfway down the hall when Charlie appeared from around the corner, running past Nate and into his bedroom. Nate couldn't repress a half smile-he'd never seen the boy so excited.
He could see into the kitchen as he entered the living room, he could see the refrigerator and the counter top through the doorway. He knew Grace and that Tom Flint character were seated at the dinner table just around the corner. He couldn't see them and they couldn't see him-but he could hear them just fine.
Eavesdropping was rude, but useful at times. Nate had never intended to eavesdrop, but when he heard his name he couldn't help sneaking forward and listening intently. It was Grace speaking, and it appeared she was answering a question.
"His name is Nate, and he's a good kid, Tom. He works with me at the diner Charlie told you about and he's really patient with Charlie...Lord knows that's not easy."
"No," Tom chuckles, "But seriously, Grace. He's LIVING with you? Are you sure that's entirely safe?"
"He's completely innocent. He doesn't know anything about my history," she replied, rather defensively.
"Well, that's not necessarily a good thing," Tom replied.
"Why not? If he knows nothing, how can he be a danger?"
"I'm not implying that he's dangerous," he replied calmly, "Grace, do you really think its fair to him? I mean, you're living together and..." his voice trailed off.
"Are you implying that we have a...a...romantic relationship of some kind?" Grace sounded scandalized. "Tom! He's just a kid!"
"So are you," he reminded her. "You're only twenty-four, Grace. He can't be any more than two years younger. You're beautiful, you're fun, you're generous...and you're sleeping a few feet away. He's bound to react eventually."
"I'm also secretive, sarcastic, and cautious, besides being a mother," Grace snapped. "Nate isn't stupid enough to 'react' at all. I don't intend on being involved in any relationship with anyone ever."
"I don't see why," Tom replied. "Is this about James?"
"James?!" Grace echoed incredulously. "Merlin, Tom, that was a childhood crush. I haven't seen him in...in...almost a decade. What in the blazes makes you think this has anything to do with James Potter? I just don't...don't...don't love. I can't love, I don't know how. Nate deserves better in any case."
"I don't understand you sometimes," Tom replied, sighing deeply, "You say he's a good kid, he treats Charlie well, you obviously respect him if you're letting him sleep here..."
"Just stop, Tom, it's really none of your damn business," she snapped.
"I'm sorry," he replied, "I just wanted--"
"Don't apologize," she snapped. There was a moment of tense silence in which Nate realized that their relationship, whatever it was, was more strained than he had thought.
"I just want you to be happy, and the best for Charlie," Tom finally said quietly.
"I know," she replied.
"But I do think you should tell him...at least some part of your past, Grace," he continued firmly. Nate heartily agreed; he was thoroughly curious by then.
"I will...eventually," she replied.
"Interesting conversation, isn't it?" a small voice whispered from somewhere around Nate's waist. He jumped and looked down to see Charlie, who was eavesdropping just as shamelessly.
"Yes," Nate replied, for lack of something better.
"Hello Mother, hello Sensei," Charlie said in a clear voice, walking calmly into the kitchen as if he hadn't been listening. Nate couldn't help but be grateful, because following Charlie made him look less suspicious. He wondered why in the world Charlie called his father "sensei". Was it a British thing? He had always known Grace grew up in Britain, but they talked about it so little and Charlie had always seemed so American that it had never occurred to Nate that his father must be British as well.
"Hey chap, ready to go?" Tom asked his son. Nate couldn't help it-he loved hearing a real, honest-to-God Brit say the word "chap". It was just so very...British.
"Yes," Charlie replied, nodding. He turned solemnly to Grace, "I hope you have a fun time today, Mother. You aren't disappointed that I'm leaving, are you?"
"Well, a little," Grace replied with the smile she reserved only for her son, "But I'm glad you're going with your father. Just be home on time!"
"No worries, Gracie," Tom replied. She winced at the sound of the nickname. Nate felt an unholy surge of triumph. "We'll be back by ten. See you then."
"Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Nate," Charlie said with a grin as he followed Tom out of the apartment. The boy looked more his age than Nate had ever seen him. He heard Grace sigh deeply. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"I didn't realize..." Nate began, not really knowing how he intended to finish the sentence.
"I should have told you about Tom," she said quietly, not looking over at him. Nate bit his lip, but continued doggedly on.
"Is there anything else you should have told me about?" he asked gently. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up, but somehow he didn't think she was really smiling.
"Exactly how much of our conversation did you overhear?" she asked. Nate felt his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.
"Grace, I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear-"
"You're a horrible liar," Grace interrupted flatly, "But I don't blame you. I'd be damned curious too, in your position. Sit down and I'll tell you a bit about myself."
"Alright," he agreed meekly. He didn't like this businesslike tone at all. She stalled for a few moments, busying herself with something at the counter. When she sat down, she handed him a teacup and placed her own in front of her. And surprisingly, the cups actually contained tea. Real tea...Nate had only had hot tea a few times in his life. It was amazing, how British she suddenly became.
"I was born twenty-four years ago in England. My parents were wealthy; they worked in the government. I was their only child. However, I had several cousins and my godparents' children to play with all my life, so I never really felt lonely. When I was eleven I was sent to a boarding school in Scotland with my two best friends-my cousin Angel and my godfather's son James."
"Uh-huh," Nate replied, more to show he was listening than anything else. He didn't understand what boarding school had to do with anything.
"There were a lot of intra-school rivalries, between old families and whatnot...it's rather complicated," Grace continued, choosing her words carefully. "Anyway, there was one boy a year older than us. We hated him and he hated us for a long time. His name was Tom Flint."
"Tom as in Charlie's father?" Nate asked dubiously.
"Right," she replied, looking rather uncomfortable. "Now, in Scotland...well actually, throughout Britain there is...there is a particular gang...a lot of hoodlums, you understand, kids who are out of control. Well, Tom was in that gang. It was the gang my parents kept trying to stomp out at work.
"I don't know how it got started really. I guess it was because it was all so very illegal and exciting and I had been a law enforcer's daughter all my life. It was stupid, really, but I was sixteen and invincible and I wanted a change of pace. So I started talking to kids in the gang, started not hanging around my old friends..."
"And that's when you got involved with Tom?" Nate supplied helpfully.
Grace hesitated for a moment. That would be such an easy explanation, so simple, she could just say she and Tom had a fling and that was that. The thought made her sick. She'd have to invent a less convincing but nearer-to-the-truth lie.
"Actually, no. Tom was carrying on a relationship with my cousin, Angel," she explained. That was the solid truth, at any rate. "He was still in touch with the gang, but not a major player any more. Of course, we all went out and partied and drank. One night he came back to school more drunk than I had ever seen anyone. I look almost exactly like my cousin and he...well..."
"Oh," Nate replied as flushed cheeks and averted eyes, not words, conveyed her meaning, "Did you...er...want him to...er...?"
"No," she whispered.
"Oh,"
There was a long silence. Grace's eyelids were moving rapidly. Nate hadn't been so confused or angry since his parents died.
"He felt horrible afterward," she continued in a whisper. "He's not a bad person, Nate, really. We both just put it behind us and I was trying to get out of the gang but by that time I was too far in...Tom kept me out of serious trouble after that. But then, two months later, I took the test and realized I was pregnant."
"That must have been...a terrible experience," Nate said softly, gently, trying to understand.
"I've never been so scared," she continued, almost as if she hadn't been interrupted. "My parents would have flipped..."
"What do you mean, would have?" Nate interrupted suddenly, "Didn't you have to tell them eventually?"
His response was the last thing he had been expecting. She laughed. It was not her usual laugh. It was cold, even for Grace.
"No," she replied bitterly. "I didn't tell anyone. It didn't matter, because only a few weeks later my other best friend, James, found out I was in the gang and promptly turned me into our parents. My dad flipped. I ran...fled the country. Charlie was actually born in France. We probably both would have died in the slums of Paris if Tom hadn't tracked us down. He had graduated-he was a year ahead, you remember-and he was independently wealthy. He sent us here, to America, and we've kind of drifted around the country. Without him I'd certainly be either in a charity shelter in Paris or a homeless shelter in New York. He adores Charlie."
"I...I had no idea," Nate stammered.
"I didn't expect you to," she replied. "He's married to my cousin Angel now. They're completely happy. My whole family thinks I'm dead. He's asked me a couple of times to go back, present Charlie-they don't know he exists, you know-and make amends. I won't though. I prefer life here."
"In practical poverty?" Nate asked gently. She shrugged.
"It's my life now," she explained.
"I'm sorry," he said, placing his hand over her limp, pale hand lying lifeless on the table. "I didn't know I was stirring such painful memories."
"It's alright," she replied, seeming to brighten suddenly. But Nate knew her better than that. She was putting all those dark thoughts away, locking them in the back of her mind. It was an exceedingly dangerous thing to do, to bottle one's emotions like that, but who was Nate to tell Grace how to run her own mind? "So, with Charlie gone, what shall we do with the rest of our day?"
"Oh yeah, we don't have to work!" Nate declared. It was one of the very, very few days both were given free. They were planning to take Charlie around and...well, make it up as they went along. However, apparently Charlie was now out of the agenda. The idea was strange to Nate.
"My, aren't we the bright bulb today?" Grace remarked sarcastically. She stood and took his cup. It was empty. He couldn't remember drinking the tea.
"I'm always like this," he pointed out.
"Well, what do you want to do?" she asked, torn between exasperation and amusement.
"I don't know, what do you want to do?" he asked childishly in return.
"You've been living here longer than I have," Grace pointed out. "What is there to do in Philadelphia?"
"I've only been here a few months longer," Nate replied reasonably, "I mean, there's all the history of us Americans beating you redcoats a few years back," Grace rolled her eyes. He grinned and continued, "Okay, no then. Well there are a few museums and a zoo and-"
"You know," she said vaguely, "I've never been to a zoo."
"Are you serious?!" Nate exclaimed.
"Sadly yes," she replied in exaggerated lament.
"Well, that settles that," Nate said, jumping to his feet, "To the zoo it is!"
Grace didn't have any time to argue even if she had wanted to. He pulled her to her feet and half-dragged her out the door. She barely had time to grab her purse. The spontaneous nature of it all felt fantastic. Grace hadn't done anything spontaneous for fun in ages.
The bus stop wasn't far from the apartment. Although Grace had traveled by bus many times in America (mostly on the run from Damien and his cronies) every time she saw one she was still sharply reminded of the Knight Bus. If she hesitated even for a moment before boarding the bus, Nate didn't notice. As they found the only empty seat and made themselves comfortable Grace made a firm vow to live for the moment if only for that day. Charlie was perfectly safe with Tom (or at least as close to being perfectly safe as was possible with Charlie) and she didn't have to work and...and...
She could spend the whole day totally alone with Nate McCoy.
She didn't realize how happy she was about that particular detail until that moment on the crowded bus. She glanced over at Nate, who grinned back at her in return. Her spirits lifted. For just this day, she vowed again, I'm going to live like every other young, carefree Muggle woman in Philadelphia.
As they climbed out of the bus and started walking toward the entrance of the zoo Grace reached into her purse and started rummaging for her wallet. She stopped when she felt a calloused hand on her arm.
"What?" she asked, looking up. Had his hands always been that strong?
"I'm paying," he replied simply. She stared at him.
"What?" she said again, confused, "Nate, there's no need to-"
"No, Grace, I insist," he said, smiling, "It's your day to relax."
She opened her mouth to argue, and then remember her vow. (Had he been reading her mind?) What young, carefree Muggle woman in her right mind could refuse?
Grace never vowed to be in her right mind, but she decided not to refuse anyway.
"Alright then," she said, smiling, "If you're sure."
"Certainly I'm sure," he replied. Grace nearly lost her resolve when they actually reached the ticket counter and she read the exorbitant fees for entrance to the zoo, but Nate had paid and lead her through the turnstile before she had time to politely phrase an objection. He handed her a colorful brochure that appeared to be a guide to the zoo.
"They have a white tiger this month!" Nate exclaimed, scanning the guide. "That's incredible!"
"I've never seen a regular tiger," Grace confessed, biting back a grin at Nate's boyish delight.
"Well then, we'll start over here and work our way toward the tiger house," he explained, gesturing to the map as he planned their course.
"And afterward we can eat something in the Tiger Café," Grace said, leaning to look at Nate's map instead of opening her own. Her head came to rest on his shoulder for a fraction of a second before he folded the brochure and slipped it into his pocket.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Time was rollicking faster than Grace could ever remember. The morning was spent lazily touring the park, and then they spent most of the afternoon in the Tiger House after a brief lunch. Nate seemed to be going out of his way to make her laugh whenever he could. Grace's cheeks hurt from smiling. She never smiled this much.
They left the zoo at sunset. After debating good-naturedly for a few minutes they walked to a restaurant four blocks away. The sky was ablaze with violent reds, oranges, and pinks. Somehow Nate's arm slipped around Grace's waist. She didn't mind.
It was more upscale than Melinda's, a completely feasible accomplishment, so Grace insisted that they split the bill. She had chicken cordon bleu and he had shrimp. They split a mountain of ice cream, brownie, and hot fudge for dessert. It was the best meal Grace had had in years. It was the first time she had eaten out in ages, the second time she had had dinner without Charlie. For some reason she wasn't thinking about any of these things.
By the time dinner was finished the sun had set completely. The sky was littered with stars so bright they were visible even through the glaring city lights. Grace and Nate walked slowly to the bus station. The bus pulled up to the corner just as they reached it. With a start, Grace realized she had spent a whole day not worrying. It was a strange thought.
The bus was empty enough that they didn't have to sit in the same seat. They did anyway. Grace's head fell on Nate's shoulder and she nearly fell asleep. She felt warm and oddly safe...a blissful feeling.
She groaned when the bus stopped and Nate stood, forcing her to do the same. She had been so very comfortable. Nate seemed to find this very amusing, teasing her about her now quite messy hair. She didn't mind.
The apartment was completely empty when they entered it. Apparently Tom hadn't yet returned with Charlie. It was strange, really, to walk in that dark, deserted room with Nate and know Charlie wasn't cooking in the kitchen or reading in his room. She shivered.
"You cold?" Nate asked quietly as he flipped the light switch. "We have some instant hot chocolate in the kitchen. I can make some."
"I don't doubt it," Grace replied, smiling, "Even you can't burn hot chocolate."
"Ha ha," he replied sarcastically, "You underestimate my crazy burning skills," he continued, leading the way into the kitchen. Grace fell into one of the three wooden chairs as Nate rifled through the cupboards until he found the hot chocolate. In moments there were two mugs in the microwave.
"I had fun today," Grace commented softly. Nate turned and leaned against the counter, watching her with a half-smile.
"Good," he replied seriously, "You don't have enough fun, Grace."
"What makes you say that?" she asked curiously. He shrugged.
"You're a young, single mother and you take that job very seriously. Of course, Charlie's a pretty serious kid. Look, that's not a bad thing, but sometimes I worry that you never let yourself loosen up," he said.
"Am I that uptight?" she demanded, only half joking.
"Well...yeah," Nate looked a bit uncomfortable, but he refused to back down. "Fun is good, Grace. I mean, I know now that you've had a hell of a past, you and Charlie both, but I think that maybe...maybe it's time to let go of all that. I mean; what's the point of turning back now?"
"Yeah..." Grace muttered, almost to herself. "Yeah, you're right. How do you understand me, Nate?"
Nate was saved from answering the abrupt question by the loud, obnoxious beeping from the microwave. Grace stood as Nate opened the plastic door to retrieve the mugs. Apparently their conversation had affected him more than she realized. He was too rough with the mug and burning hot chocolate splashed onto his hand. He swore and quickly but carefully put the mug on the table.
"Are you alright?" Grace demanded.
"Yeah," he replied, scowling mildly at his hand. "I can't believe I just did that."
"Let me see," she said, taking his hand and studying it intently. It was red, but nothing worse. What did she expect? It was only hot chocolate after all.
"Well doc, will you need to amputate?" Nate asked quietly, the laughter back in his voice. She looked up, realizing how very close they were.
"I don't think so," she whispered. Her stomach was fluttering and her hands were clammy. She felt her breathing quicken as his arms encircled her waist. Her mind went completely blank as his lips met hers.
His kiss was understandably hesitant. Grace's first instinct was to shove him away, but for reasons even she did not comprehend she returned the kiss, wrapping her small arms around his shoulders and closing her eyes. Beneath her eyelids was a world of vibrant color. Nate's burned hand and his hot chocolate were forgotten.
She didn't think of Tom. She didn't think of James. She didn't think of Charlie. She didn't think of anything. She just kissed Nathaniel McCoy as if there were no tomorrow, as if nothing or no one in the world mattered outside of that moment. Those few precious minutes changed Grace's life forever...she had never felt such unreserved affection from anyone. She knew that he was different from the romances she'd imagined as a child-she could feel it in his crushing embrace and the pressure of his kiss.
To her own surprise Grace was disappointed when Nate finally pulled away. He took a long shuddering breath. "Grace," he said, his voice deeper than usual.
"Nate," she whispered in return, her voice, by contrast, almost an octave higher than her normal pitch. He reached for her again.
The door opened. Surprised, Grace and Nate leapt apart like guilty teenagers. Their eyes didn't meet as Charlie's voice floated into the kitchen from the living room. "Mother? Nate? Are you home?"
"Yes, Charlie," Grace replied, chancing a heartbeat's glance at Nate before hurrying to greet her son. Nate followed more slowly. Grace was chattering light-heartedly with Charlie about his day. Tom was lingering awkwardly in the doorway, watching the scene with a distant smile that, for some reason, put him just one notch higher in Nate's estimation.
"Central Park, Mother! It was beautiful! I don't see why we never went there when we lived in New Jersey, it wasn't far away."
"You went all the way to New York to see a park?" Grace demanded teasingly. "There are plenty in Philadelphia."
"It's not the same," Charlie replied seriously, "I know the park is dangerous at night, but in the daylight it is quite aesthetically pleasing. You would have enjoyed it."
"I had best return to England before Ginny realizes I've been gone longer than I should be," Charlie's father interrupted hesitantly.
"Your mother-in-law for your boss, what a burden you bear," Grace remarked sardonically. Nate's eyebrows rose at this comment. Tom caught the other man's look and shrugged sheepishly.
"It isn't easy," he admitted with only a hint of sarcastic martyrdom. "Which is why I must take my leave. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. McCoy. Good evening Grace. Good-bye, Charlie. I hope you had fun."
"I assure you the outing was most satisfactory," Charlie replied, "Until Christmas then, Sensei."
Without further conversation Tom turned suddenly, shutting the door gently behind him. Charlie yawned.
"Pardon my rudeness," he said, "But I am quite exhausted. I hope you both enjoyed your day. Goodnight Mother, goodnight Nate."
"Goodnight," the adults chorused together as Charlie walked briskly to his room and shut the door with a decisive snap. Grace's eyes shifted to meet Nate's.
"Perhaps I should go to bed too," she said softly. Nate nodded, moving to make the hallway accessible.
"Sweet dreams, Grace," he said uncertainly.
"Goodnight," she murmured, slipping past him and into her bedroom. Nate looked after her for a moment, before turning and preparing for another night on the sofa.
The next few days were unusually tense. Every word was carefully planned, every movement fraught with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Charlie pretended to continue with his everyday affairs as if unaffected by the atmosphere. Neither adult was foolish enough for fall for his guise. This only contributed to the anxiety plaguing them both.
"A grilled cheese sandwich and a strawberry milkshake, please," Crazy Christa said pleasantly, slipping into her usual place at 8:59 as Nate turned the cardboard sign on the door from open to close. Grace smiled, nodded, and returned to the kitchen to whip up some hot chocolate. The grilled cheese was waiting. Honestly, that woman is just too strange, Grace thought tolerantly as she carried the familiar meal to her waiting customer.
Christa looked up at Grace and winked as the meal was presented with an exaggerated flourish. "Thank ye, lassie," she said in a sudden Scottish accent. Grace repressed a shudder. The accent was unnervingly accurate.
"She's a weirdo," Nate commented quietly through a crooked smile as he and Grace began cleaning the counters and tables. Jim grunted in their direction before limping through the doorway. Grace sighed and wondered if the old cook had been so grumpy before he lost his ability to talk.
"There are stranger people in the world," Grace replied, her eyes still following Jim. Nate followed her glance and chuckled. Crazy Christa finished her sandwich and left the precise price plus a dollar tip on the table without waiting for a bill. She hobbled out as Nate collected her dishes. They were the last to be washed.
"Everyone's a bit strange in their own way, I guess," Nate said lightly, continuing the conversation. Grace shrugged.
"Are we done?" she asked, shivering slightly, "It's not that long of a walk, but it's dark and cold. I want to get moving."
"It's always dark and cold," Nate reminded her with pardonable sarcasm. "If you're so anxious, go on home. I can finish up here."
"But-" Grace began to protest before she had a reason to disagree. Nate and Grace always walked home side-by-side, even if they had been snipping at each other at work and they walked in silence, they walked together.
"But what?" Nate demanded, throwing his rag on the counter and turning to Grace.
"I want to walk with you," she said softly, realizing how very silly she sounded. He sighed.
"I can't do this forever, Grace," he said solemnly, his normally soft face practically chiseled in stone. "I heard what you told Tom about me not being stupid enough to react. So call me stupid, but this is ridiculous. We can't go on pretending nothing ever happened."
"I know," Grace's head drooped. She felt very young. "I'm just not...quite...ready, I suppose."
"Ready for what?" Nate asked.
"I don't know!" she snapped, anger replacing her guilt. "Stop asking me all these questions!"
"Stop avoiding the answers!" he commanded with equal fire. They stood glaring at each other in silence for a few moments.
Nate's eyes dropped first, his cheeks flushed with bright color. When he spoke his voice was strangled, as if he were forcing every syllable. "I'm sorry, Grace. But I have to know what it is you want. I need to know if...if there's even a chance that some day..." His eyes slowly traveled back to find her face. To his surprise, she had turned. He studied her hunched shoulders, her bowed head and the fiery hair that tumbled from it.
His few steps to reach her were agonizingly slowly. His gentle, calloused hands fell softly on her shoulders. She took a shuddering breath before turning to face him. Two individual shining streaks marred her normally closed countenance. Her eyes glittered brilliantly with unshed tears.
"Grace," Nate murmured, his guilty eyes searching her face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
"It's not your fault," Grace whispered, her voice surprisingly steady.
"But it is, I had to open my big mouth-"
"Stop it, Nate, just stop it," she interrupted fiercely. "Stop blaming yourself for everything. I have faults, plenty of them, and you've just pointed out the worst. I have no idea what it is I want. Safety for Charlie, surely, but I don't want anything for myself. You're a great guy Nate, really you are, and..."
"And what?" Nate asked. He was trying very had not to pry.
"And...and maybe if...I mean..." she was more flustered than he had every seen her. It was more than a bit disconcerting. Her eyes sought his. The golden irises were fairly glowing. "Oh hell," she finally muttered. Without warning she threw her arms around his neck and brought her lips crashing into his.
Crazy Christa was sitting across the street, veiled in the darkness. She had to wait longer than usual, but eventually both young people left the diner, locking it behind them. As they turned and walked home, she noticed his hand enclosed hers. She smiled. Nothing like a pair of young lovers to make things more exiting...
She turned into an alley and disappeared. A report to the boss was in order.
"Happy birthday dear Charlie, happy birthday to you!" Nate and Grace crooned. Charlie laughed. Neither was blessed in the musical field, or, for that matter, in the culinary field. The cake appeared edible, but the frosting was decidedly lopsided. Eight candles shone brightly. Pastel wax slowly melted onto the cake.
"Make a wish," Nate instructed. It was a decidedly naïve command, which Charlie duly ignored. Wishes were for children. However, he did blow out every candle in one breath.
"What did you wish, Charlie?" his mother asked, winking. She knew very well that he would never degrade himself in such a fashion.
"He can't tell, Grace!" Nate cried in mock alarm. "If he says it out loud it won't come true."
"Better keep it a secret then," Grace winked at her son. Charlie grinned. He hadn't had such fun in ages.
"Of course," he said, reaching for the large piece of marble cake Grace had cut for him. The cake was too large for only the three of them, meaning cake for a week. This was not a problem for anyone; sweets were a rare treat in Grace's apartment.
"Eight years old!" Nate cried jubilantly after taking an insanely huge bite of cake. "How does it feel to be so ancient?"
"I'm the ancient one," Grace argued, smiling. "Goodness, I'll be needing a wheel chair soon." Charlie couldn't help but smile at the look on his mother's face. She was so happy with Nate...it was etched in every detail of her face.
"Don't be silly, Mother, you're still quite young and pretty," Charlie commented seriously.
"I believe the boy has a point!" Nate cried with exaggerated enthusiasm. Grace rolled her eyes.
"You boys are too much for an old woman like me," she teased.
"If you don't stop I'll find an old hag mask and make you wear it for Halloween," Nate threatened rudely. Grace laughed.
"I have a perfectly fine witch's costume, thank you," she informed him, "Charlie and I never fail the trick-or-treaters."
"What are you going as for trick-or-treat?" Nate asked Charlie.
"I don't go trick-or-treating," Charlie said haughtily. "I remain at home and distribute candy with Mother.
"No trick-or-treating?" Nate cried, as if this were a catastrophe of the worst kind. "Grace, what have you done to this poor kid? Hasn't he ever gone?"
"No," Charlie informed him with a certain degree of wounded vanity.
"That ends this year," Nate declared, waving his plastic fork for emphasis. Grace couldn't help it, she giggled. "Do you think this is funny?" he demanded, continuing with his mock outrage.
"Of course," she replied. The pathetic attempt at a scowl prevented her from teasing him any worse. "If you really feel that strongly about it, you and Charlie can go trick-or-treating for a little while," she said lightly.
"What about you?" Charlie asked, slightly dreading the answer.
"Someone has to hand out the treats," she reminded him. "You two will be perfectly fine."
"What do you say, Charlie?" Nate asked. The newly eight-year-old boy could clearly see the anxiety in his eyes. "It will be lots of fun."
"I suppose," Charlie relented. He was in a wonder that his mother's trust of Nate extended this far. "I do love candy," he commented, almost to himself. Nate grinned.
"Then Halloween is just the night for you," he said reassuringly
"You really love Halloween, don't you?" Charlie asked.
"It was my favorite night of the year when I was your age...well, Christmas first, and then my birthday, but THEN Halloween."
"You know who else loves Halloween..." Charlie murmured, almost to himself. His eyes locked with his mothers. Grace felt her heart skip a beat.
"Angel," she replied quietly.
"Happy Halloween!" Angel cried, wrapping her arms around James.
"Same to you Ang," James said breathlessly. "Ang...ANG! I can't breathe!"
"Give him some oxygen," Tom said, coming to James's rescue. "Nice costume, James," he commented, his eyes glittering with laughter.
"It's downright satirical," Angel contradicted, trying to sound stern and not betray her amusement. "Did you dye your hair black?"
"Of course!" James grinned, "It's part of the ensemble. It's you two who are satirical. Whose idea was this?"
Angel and Tom exchanged grins. Angel's dress was a gorgeous concoction of pure white silk and lace. Wings made of real white feathers emerged from her dainty shoulders, and a golden halo encircled her bright red hair. Tom played her counterpart, complete with long blood-red robes, horns, and a pitchfork. The reflection of their past and the personalities was, to a friend as close as James, hilarious.
"It was quite brilliant, if I do say so myself," Angel said, glowing with pride. She had undoubtedly made both costumes herself.
"This isn't any more ironic than your costume," Tom pointed out.
"You can't tell me I'm the only one who showed up here as Harry Potter," he said reasonably. Angel laughed.
"No, but you are the most believable. Your mother is going to have a fit of hysteria when she sees you dressed up as your father."
"I'm more curious about what Dad will say," James admitted sheepishly.
The conversation ended as more guests arrived. James wandered into the ballroom where the other guests were convening in small gossiping groups. Angel and Tom threw the largest Halloween party in England, inviting most of wizarding society. It was a privilege they inherited from Ginny and Draco. Ginny had been only too glad to let her daughter handle the enormous stress of the party. Draco seemed a bit nostalgic, but a few glasses of champagne always cured that malady.
James was fashionably late. The party was already in full swing. His costume provoked amused comments, particularly from his colleagues. They immediately caught the sarcasm he meant to portray. James grinned at them. This was actually rather cleansing...it allowed him to let go of the brewing resentment of being his father's son.
"James!" Hermione's voice pierced through the crowd. James turned to meet his mother, who was approaching him with the speed of an Auror's spell. She was unmistakably portraying Rowena Ravenclaw. "What in Merlin's name...is this your costume?"
"Quite accurate, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. Hermione's initial reaction of shock mingled with unreasonable insult melted under her son's smile.
"You've always looked just like your father," she said softly, pushing his now jet-black hair from his bangs.
"Speak of the devil," James said as his dad approached. Harry did a double take.
"And what's your costume?" Harry asked pleasantly, "A mirror?"
"Do I look like Dumbledore to you?" James asked, grinning at his father's choice of costume.
"Well, either you're using Polijuice or you're my son," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Polijuice," James replied seriously. Harry laughed.
"It's an ingenious idea, my boy," he said through his chuckles. "You make a better-looking me than I did at your age, if that makes any sense."
"It doesn't," Hermione informed him, rolling her eyes. James and Harry exchanged meaningful looks.
"Hermione!" a familiar voice interrupted them. Turning, James recognized Rayven Weasley despite her white Marie Antoinette wig. Ron, who wasn't the biggest fan of costume parties, had opted for the eternally simple Muggle evening dress. He had, however, added a monocle. The result was quite amusing.
They were soon joined with Ginny and Draco, attending as the czar and czarina of Russia. Ginny and Draco always had the most elaborate costumes. Before James knew what was happening he was lost in the inevitable fray of his family. Angel's brother Phil, an ancient Egyptian, made an appearance with his latest interest, a matching belly dancer. Hermione's look clearly stated her opinion of that costume. Then James's three siblings found their way to the family gathering. Liz was dressed as the queen of England whose name she shared. Luke had gone completely wild, dressing as one of the ancient Celtic gods. Anna, still in her last year at Hogwarts, had gotten special permission to attend the festivities and was dressed in her best dress robes and a tiara.
Tom and Angel joined them as soon as the last of the guests had arrived. Angel was dragging a photographer. "Family portrait!" she cried happily. James sighed. Getting the extended family to stand in a certain order for any period of time was always an adventure.
Eventually, however, they managed it. Angel and Tom stood at the center, clutching their children. Angel was fairly glowing. James smiled distantly. Let them have their moment, he thought tolerantly. He wasn't sure why he felt so out of place with the people he had grown up with. No, that was a lie. He knew perfectly well.
The photographer tried to make a complaint, but Angel cut him off, her smile strained for only an instant. The moment rippled through the family. There was an empty space in front of Rayven and Ron, in the middle of the line of James's generation. The photographer muttered something rude under his breath before snapping the picture, complete with the gap. Family tradition was not something to tamper with.
They always left one place open for Grace.
"Trick or treat!" a vampire, a zombie, and Barbie cried, holding jack-o-lantern bags bulging with goodies. Grace smiled.
"Pick two," she instructed, holding out a bowl of candy. The kids peered greedily inside. Small fingers fought to claim the most popular prizes. Grace had never believed in forcing a certain flavor of candy on the trick-or-treaters. It was their night, let them pick for crying out loud!
They were among the last of the candy-seeking kids. The official trick-or-treat time had ended ten minutes ago. Grace cast a worried glance at the clock. Charlie and Nate still hadn't returned.
Annoyed, she ripped open a miniature Three Musketeers. Chewing thoughtfully, she imagined how much fun she would have handing out magical candy. Muggle sweets were all right, but they had no comparison to sugar quills and Honeydukes fudge. She sighed wistfully. Ah the pleasures of European magical chocolate...
"Mother!" Charlie cried, practically flying through the door. Grace jumped. She had been totally immersed in thoughts of ice mice.
"Hello, Charlie. I take it you had a good time?" she remarked, noticing his flushed face and bright brown eyes.
"I've never seen so much chocolate," her son replied, trying to sound dignified. His secret glee crept into his voice. A pillowcase had served as his bag, and judging by the bulk Grace's neighbors were generous.
"Chocolate is one thing," Nate said in a teasing voice, "When we ran into those two princess you got really excited." Grace's eyebrows rose.
"I don't know what you're implying," Charlie replied indignantly, rising on his tiptoes as he turned to face Nate. "They were silly little girls."
"I don't know, they were pretty flirty..." Nate said, putting his hands in his pockets. Charlie flushed.
"Mother," he whined. Charlie never whined. The change was actually rather welcome.
"Nate, stop teasing him," Grace remonstrated gently. "Charlie, you ought to take your candy into your room."
"I wanted to give you a few, Mother," the boy explained.
"I'll be right back, if you'll excuse me," Nate said as Charlie dug through the pillowcase. He turned and slipped down the hall and into the bathroom.
"Aren't you going to give any to Nate?" Grace asked gently, sitting on the floor next to her son.
"I already did," Charlie replied, somewhat insulted. "We had a fine time, Mother."
"Good," she replied, taking the proffered Twix. Her brow furrowed as her son glanced over his shoulder to make sure Nate was still in the restroom. "What is it?" she asked.
"I just wanted to tell you about a vision I had while we were out," Charlie said. "Angel and Tom's Halloween party is going over well. James isn't enjoying it too much though. They took a family portrait."
"That's...nice, I guess," Grace replied uncomfortably. Charlie's eyes studied his mother intently.
"They left a space for you," he informed her.
"Did they?" she replied. Her surprise was genuine.
"They always do, Mother. Always," Charlie said softly. Grace looked down at her son curiously.
"Charlie, do you want me to return to Britain?" she asked.
"I?" Charlie's eyes opened very wide. "I want you to be happy, Mother. Britain never made you as happy as you are now."
The truth of this simple statement struck Grace like a blow to the stomach. Before she could reply Nate reentered the living room. "You two behaving yourselves?" he asked, his blue eyes glittering with laughter.
"Of course," Charlie replied, "I think I'll take my candy to my room now. Thank you, Nate, for taking me trick-or-treating. It was much more enjoyable than I had been lead to expect."
"Er...you're welcome," Nate replied. Charlie's speech patterns still had a disconcerting effect on Nate. He let out a sigh of relief as Charlie's door was shut with a gentle snap.
"Your son is quite an amazing individual," Nate commented, his arm encircling Grace's waist.
"Yes, he is," she replied. She laid her head on his shoulder. Warm contentment filled her.
Charlie had been unnervingly accurate. Britain did not offer the happiness she found with Nathaniel McCoy.