"She's gonna grill me worse than the cops do when they got a murder suspect," Grace said, dropping her fork on her tray. "I'm going to be doing pushups until my arms break." Grace looked down quickly when brown eyes turned in her direction. "What are they doing?" she whispered.
"Coming this way," Jan said. "You're bacon, my friend."
"Thanks," Grace sighed, readying herself for an earful of angry instructor.
"Waters, pick up your tray and come with me," Carey said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good luck," Jan said.
Grace followed Carey to the trash bin where she dumped the rest of her dinner, then set the tray on top with the others. "You can start talking at any time," Carey said, opening one of the double doors.
The sooner I talk, the sooner you'll drop me for ten or twenty.
"We have three hours until lights out," Carey said.
"I don't have anything to say, ma'am."
"Really? Hmm, sounded like you had a great deal to say in AM today."
I knew Gage would tell her. "Not that much, ma'am."
"What did he lie about?"
"I don't want to talk about it, ma'am."
“You're only making it harder on yourself, Grace. We want to help you but we can't if we don't know what's going on."
"He hit me, ma'am."
"How?"
Grace shrugged. "With his hand if he could reach me. Throwing something if he couldn't." That's it. Stay focused on that. She doesn't have to know about anything else.
"And your mother didn't believe you? She had to have seen the marks."
"Oh, she believed he hit me," Grace said. "She also believed his reasons why I deserved it, ma'am."
"Why didn't you say this in AM?"
Because all I could think about was him standing there saying he didn't touch me. Hitting me didn't seem that important. "I...I guess I was too angry to talk about it, ma'am." Looking up, she realized they were at the cabin.
"Have a seat," Carey said, gesturing at the steps. "Since you're calmer now, start talking."
Grace sat down and stared at the path. "He's a bum. Sits around saying he's disabled and collecting checks when he really is just a jerk who smokes his weed and watches TV." She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Carey. "Oh yeah, he sits right there in the living room with his pot and his pipe."
"So your mother knew about it?"
"She knew," Grace said. "My mother deals with things by ignoring them and hoping they'll go away."
"Did he ever offer any to you?"
"First time I got high was with him," Grace said.
"Is he where you got the marijuana you were caught with?"
Grace nodded. "But I could have gotten it anywhere, you know. It's not like it's hard to find."
"Do you smoke a lot of it?"
"Well, not lately," she said, gesturing around her. "I know what you mean. When he first moved in he let me smoke with him every day after school before Mom got home from work. I stopped smoking with him after a while but he left baggies in my room so I still had some. But after he left, I only smoked it if someone gave it to me."
“You're smart enough to know that numbing your feelings doesn't make them go away," Carey said. "You're also smart enough to know how easily drugs can mess up your life or even take it away altogether if they're abused."
"I know," Grace said. But it was the only way to deal with him.
"There are other ways to numb yourself," Carey said. "Hiding behind your anger and pushing people away are two that you excel at. Someone touches a sensitive subject with you and you resort to anger or violence to get the subject changed. Sound familiar, Miss I Like Throwing Chairs at Teachers?"
Grace looked down. "Yes, ma'am."
Carey smiled. "Oh, you do remember the word, don't you?" Grace went to move but stopped when she saw her mentor's upraised hand. "Sit. Obviously you think the rules for the steps are the same as inside the cabin and I'm not in the mood to watch you do pushups." She rested her wrists on her knees. "I'm more interested in what's going on in that head of yours."
"Nothing, ma'am," Grace said, deciding it was better not to push her liberty.
"I can see the gears turning from here," Carey said. "I get the feeling you're being selective about what you're telling me. Grace, did anything else happen when you were alone with him?"
"No, ma'am," she said, her gaze focused on a stone near the bottom step. Oh, please change the subject.
"Did he ever touch you sexually?"
"No, ma'am." Don't look at her.
"You know it's safe to tell me if he did."
"Yes, ma'am."
There was an agonizing silence as Grace waited for the instructor to speak. "All right, enough of this," Carey said as she stood up. "I'm hungry and you have homework to do. You can apologize to Instructor Gage tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am." Grace waited a second, then followed her into the cabin. She went straight to her class books and started her homework in the hopes the conversation would not be continued.
"You threw out half of your dinner," Carey said from the kitchen. "Did you have enough to eat?"
Grace shrugged. "I don't care for macaroni and cheese."
"I didn't ask that."
Oh, she's offering. Grace smiled and went to the kitchen. "Do I have to answer before I find out what it is?"
Carey smiled and opened the refrigerator. "I'm not making anything fancy tonight. There's sandwich meat or help yourself to hot dogs." She pulled out a plate of leftovers and put it in the microwave. "Don't even think about touching the cheesecake if you want to keep your fingers intact."
"I won't, I promise."
"One can of soda," Carey said, programming the microwave and pressing the start button. "I know how many are in there."
Grace went to the refrigerator and looked at the offerings. "How about grape?"
"How many do I have?"
Yeah, you know how many are in here, Grace thought, her smile hidden from the older woman by the refrigerator door. "Three."
"Fine," Carey said.
"Can I have some potato salad?"
"Go ahead. Did you have any fruit today?"
"Orange juice with breakfast," Grace said.
"There's some grapes in the crisper," Carey said.
Grace selected the items she wanted and set them on the counter.
"That smells good," she said, referring to the aroma wafting from the microwave.
"And surprisingly it's also nutritionally balanced," Carey said. "Speaking of which, why didn't you eat your spinach yesterday?"
"It was mush," Grace said. "Pasty green mush."
"The joys of mass food production," Carey said. "I suffered through it in the Coast Guard." The microwave dinged. "Something else you have to look forward to when you turn your life around. No more food from vats."
"Amen," Grace said. "I should put that on my goals list for Personal Finance."
"Either add lettuce and tomato to that sandwich or finish up the broccoli in the little container on the second shelf," Carey said as she carefully removed the hot plate from the microwave. "And remember, you don't want the others to think you're getting any special privileges."
"Food? What food?" Grace said, adding lettuce and tomato to her sandwich. The last thing she planned to do was tell anyone she was getting extra treats, snacks, and drinks when everyone else was suffering with food from the mess hall.
"That's what I thought you'd say." With the plate now cooled, Carey picked it up and leaned against the counter to eat. "So have you thought any more about college?"
"I haven't even finished high school yet," Grace said, mimicking her mentor's actions and leaning against the sink as she ate her sandwich.
"You will. It's one of your goals." Carey took a sip of her soda, then sat the can down on the counter. "Answer my question."