Grace

11

The two sat at the table, eating in an uncomfortable silence. Desman was still embarrassed that he had invaded her privacy, and Grace just didn't know what to feel. She wanted to be upset but she couldn't blame him, plus she just was scared to mention it again. She didn't want them to forever be uncomfortable with one another. This would soon be her permanent home.

"I'm off today, and it's looking a little better outside. Do you want to hit the park?" Desman shuffled through envelopes.

"Yeah, I saw the little pool down there. Can we go to that, too?"

Desman nodded. "I mean, we could or you could just enjoy the one out back. Theirs close earlier than mines." he admitted, smiling.

Grace removed herself from her seat. She looked through the curtains, hanging by the window. The window gave her a full view of the in ground pool, accompanied by nice chairs. It was gorgeous. The water was clear blue, sparkling underneath the sun. She smiled, eager to jump inside and have fun. It had been a mintue since she was able to just enjoy herself.

"I have to come over more often. This house is so big," she complimented.

Desman smiled. "You're welcome anytime. You're family."

She smiled back at him. "And I like being apart of the family."

Grace laid out on the chair, drying before heading back in. The sun hovered over her, hiding behind the clouds. The heat was taking its time drying her up. She didn't want to go get a towel. Grace turned on her stomach, sighing in content. That Sunday had to be the best yet.

"You have three cars?" Grace inquired, as they sat in the garage. Desman was tinkering with the remotes to his garage doors. Grace was only watching him, wrapped up in her beach towel.

He nodded. "One belonged to my ex-wife. It was in my name so she had to leave it. I just decided to keep up the payments."

"Are you like rich?"

"Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants," Desman continued, "That is from a Greek stoic philosopher by the name of Epictetus. Do you know who I am talking about?"

Grace furrowed her eyebrows. "Nope."

"Of course not. I bet you know a Shakespeare or a Tupac Shakur?" Desman laughed lightly, continuing to tinker.

Grace did indeed know each of them. She couldn't say she was into any of their art, but she could tell you pieces from them. She replied, "Well. Are you rich or no?"

"Yes. My mind, body, and soul is rich. I hear that question everyday, and I answer it the same each time. We're all different. I may have more than you but only because I'm a hard worker. Can you say the same for yourself?"

Grace grinned, boasting, "Yes, my teachers tell me I am everyday. I have an A in each class."

He replied, "Nice. Strive to be better than your best, sweetheart. It'll pay off more than any amount of money ever could."

Grace smiled. He looked up at her then said, "You know, you're very beautiful. You look like someone I used to know. You have the same smile, eyes, laugh..."

She looked at him before clearing her throat, then going back inside of the house. If the bedroom incident didn't  make it more awkward, then that did.

The next day at school, she told Michigan all about her experience. Michigan was listening intently. The story was boring but she still decided to listen. It made Grace happy so she was being a good friend, although she was upset she wasn't invited. The last thing she wanted to hear about was Grace's great weekend.