"I know."
Grace brightened up. "But that's in the past. I try not to dwell on it anymore. Life's too short to dwell on things I can't change. My life is good now."
Carey smiled. "I'm glad."
"So what are you doing now?" Carey asked, sitting down next to her. "I was just going to get some more programming done," Grace said.
"See? I've got the flow chart done but it's a chore putting the code together."
"I hate to tell you but this makes no sense to me."
Grace smiled and turned on the laptop. "The hardest part is not figuring out how to do something, but how to make the subroutines work without causing endless loops."
"And in English that means'?"
Taking a chance, Grace gently bumped the older woman with her shoulder. "It means I'm a computer geek and I love knowing something you don't." The startup screen changed to her desktop, causing her to blush and immediately close the laptop. "Um, let me change something here."
"Let me see," Carey said, lifting the screen. She smiled. "How did you do that?"
"Um..." Grace tapped the touch pad, bringing up a menu. "Tom has a scanner."
"Please tell me I'm not all over the Internet," Carey said, recognizing the picture as being taken on Grace's last day at Sapling Hill.
"No," Grace said. "I only have access at school and we just scanned the picture and put it on disk so I could transfer it to my laptop." She tapped the pad a few more times and the background changed from a picture of Carey to a bluish green color. "Do you want me to delete it?"
Carey patted her shoulder. "You can keep it," she said, thinking of the picture she had on her desk. "Besides, how would I know if you didn't?"
"Because if you told me to delete it, I would," Grace said.
"Sheets in the closet?"
Carey smiled. "Yes. You can change in the bathroom."
Grace gave her a devilish grin. "Or I could change out here."
"Behave," Carey said. "Or I'll make you sleep in the truck."
"I'll behave," Grace said. "Do I at least get a hug good night?"
Carey hesitated. "I'm not sure I should," she said, dropping the pillow on the couch. "Grace, I don't want to lead you on."
"I know," the teen said, stepping into Carey's personal space. "You're not."
Carey put her arms around Grace and pulled her close, very much aware of the sigh that escaped the young woman's lips. "I care about you," she whispered into golden blonde hair. "I don't want to see you hurt, especially because of me."
"I can't help how I feel," Grace said, giving a squeeze before she stepped back. "Any more than you can, I guess." She reached for her suitcase. "I'll be back in a minute."
"I hope you have homework to do," Carey said as she carried the box of file folders in. "It's going to take me hours to do this."
"What is it?" Grace asked, moving her books to make room on the coffee table for the box.
"The spring/summer session," Carey said. "Two weeks before the girls arrive, we get the files from the courts. I have to review them and prepare care sheets."
"So you knew about me before I arrived?"
Carey nodded. "Only the base facts from the court reports and from Crestwood." She set the box down and gave the teen a smile. "I knew you'd be a hard nut for me to crack."
"But you did eventually," Grace said.
Carey shook her head. "Not me. I could have used a sledgehammer and I wouldn't have gotten through. It was you pecking away from the inside that broke the shell."
"I still think it was you," Grace said, pressing her finger to Carey's lips to stop her from disagreeing. "And you'll never convince me otherwise." She pulled her hand back. "Now, are you going to sit out here or use the desk?"
Carey looked at the recliner. "I can do it out here," she said.
"I'm not tuning you out but I’m going to put a CD on, okay?" Grace asked. "I’ll use my headset."
"Fine with me," Carey said. "Don't turn it up so loud it hurts your ears."
"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, smiling and shaking her head. "You can't drop me for ten anymore, you know."
Carey looked at her and slowly gave her a wicked smile. "Don't tempt me."
"I'll keep it to a reasonable level," Grace said, reaching for her soft-sided suitcase.
"What kind of music do you listen to?" Carey asked, watching the teen unzip a CD organizer and flip through the discs.
"Mostly lesbian singers," Grace said, pulling a CD from its sleeve. "I have some older stuff like Bread, Journey, Hall and Oates, that kind of stuff." She touched a button on the front of the laptop, causing the CD tray to zip open. "I have speakers built in if you want to listen to something. I have some of Cris Williamson's vintage CDs."
"Whoever that is," Carey said.
"The goddess of lesbian music, that's who," Grace said, shaking her head. "I'll use the earphones."
Carey chuckled and opened the first folder. The goddess of lesbian music. I'm not even going to ask how she managed to find music like that. There's not exactly a lesbian section in the record store that I've ever seen. Reaching for her coffee, she took advantage of Grace's preoccupation with whatever was on the computer screen to observe her. The blonde hair was longer but there were other changes as well. Six months had made quite a difference in Grace's face. Cheeks once rounded by a hint of baby fat were more angular, accented by the subtlest amount of blush. No wonder the girls are chasing you, she thought, peeking over the rim of the mug. Several moments passed before Carey realized she was staring and turned her attention to the paperwork in front of her. Grace started humming to the music, tapping her fingers against the sides of the laptop. "Grace."
"Oh, sorry," she said, stilling her fingers. Seconds later the humming started again. "So dream on, little teen queen. Angels on horseback will carry your dream..."
"Grace," Carey said again. "Try playing one that doesn't move you to song."
"Sorry," Grace said, pulling the headphones down. "I'll find another one." She flipped through the plastic sleeves, then put a different CD into the tray. "I guess I'm used to being alone in my room."
"At least you can carry a tune," Carey said.
"You can't sing?" Grace asked, her eyes widening.
Carey chuckled. "I can see that pedestal you have me on dropping a few inches," she said. "Hate to disappoint you but singing is not something I do. Yelling I'm good at." She smiled broadly. "Want to hear me yell?"
Grace smiled. "I'm quite familiar with your yell, thank you," she said.
"I still can't hear out of my right ear." She wiggled her ear for emphasis, a light blue stud in the center of the lobe.
"If you had listened in the first place, I wouldn't have had to yell," Carey said. "Get back to your homework."
"You're the one that interrupted me," Grace pointed out.
"You were singing."
"But I sing good."
"Sing well," Carey corrected. "And yes you do, but I can't concentrate on this…" She tapped the folder. "When you're singing."
"I'll be quiet," Grace said, smiling as she pushed the CD tray in. "Sorry you get distracted by me."
"It's all right," Carey said, looking down at the paperwork in front of her, then realizing what the young woman said. I'm not distracted by you, she thought to herself, her eyes flicking to see Grace still smiling as she typed. I have got to watch what I say around you. Reluctantly, she turned her attention back to the work in her lap. Within minutes Grace was humming again. I knew you couldn't last.
"I know the angel, I feel heaven in your wings. You are an an-gel, I can surely hear you sing. Because you ta-ake me so-o light-ly, I know…I know that I can fly..." Grace resumed her humming, apparently oblivious to having burst out in song. Carey shook her head and gave up, accepting the occasional breaks in concentration without comment.