My Saving Grace

I'll never be able to say it enough: thank you to all those who take the time to vote and share your comments on my stories (both the public comments and the private ones). As I've said before, you people are the inspiration for me to continue writing. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! - CM

*****

I smiled as I stood upright on both feet for the first time in about a week. Dr. Khan had, as of this morning, allowed me to walk without crutches, and damn it felt good! I still couldn't do anything more strenuous with my left leg than climbing the stairs (and he wasn't really thrilled about even that), but just being rid of the crutches was one hell of a birthday present.

Yes, today is my birthday; I'm 21 and legal, at last. Downstairs, Mom was putting the finishing touches on my birthday dinner while Grace and Dad got eveything else ready. One of the downsides to being a December baby – at least, I thought so when I was younger – was that my birthday was always overshadowed by the Christmas season. Mom and Dad always got me something for my birthday, and Mom always fixed something special for dinner that night. But, I rarely had blowouts like most of the other kids in our neighborhood did.

I found as I grew up, though, that I actually don't mind all that much. What I get from my family is far more precious than a bunch of cheap junk from a big box store could ever be. Mom, who had inherited the kitchen skills that had made my grandparents successful in the restaurant business, never failed to make me smile with her birthday dinners.

The gifts, while maybe not numerous, were always nice, and thoughtful. But what really made this day special was the company of my family, the ones most important to me in my life. Recent events had emphasized that point dramatically! I had a new resolve to cherish each moment of time with my family, because it will never come again, and one never knows how many moments might be left to cherish in the future.

I carefully made my way downstairs, where Mom, Dad, and Grace were waiting. Hugs were exchanged all around, except with Dad of course. He slapped my back and handed me a beer. "Enjoy it, Son. God knows you've earned it!"

I smiled and took a tentative sip. Like most people my age, I'd snuck tastes of alcoholic drinks on many occasions in years past. I'd discovered that while I didn't really like the taste of most beers, there were some I could tolerate. This stuff, though, was actually pretty good. I made note of the label so I could get more later.

My family sang the traditional "Happy Birthday" song, seemingly each in their own unique key. That was traditional too, all part of the fun. Mom and Grace could actually sing pretty well, and Dad and I weren't bad. Afterwards, we enjoyed Mom's homemade Chicken Alfredo along with a fresh basil salad (her own recipie). Then it was time for gifts!

Mom gave me a really neat multifunction Bluetooth earpiece to go along with the new phone they'd already given me. Dad gave me a ticket from Thor's Guns that would allow me – now that I was old enough – to take possession of a compact .45 caliber Kahr pistol along with 2 spare magazines.

"And as soon as you heal up some more, we'll get your CCW permit application started!"

"Thanks Mom and Dad!" I said. Wow! They'd more than outdone themselves this year!

Grace then stepped forward and handed me a large, bulky gift bag. Curious, I opened it quickly and pulled out a new, very warm-looking winter parka. It had a removable arctic fleece liner, a storm hood that zipped into the collar, and a multitude of pockets both inside and out. It was even my favorite Coyote Brown color.

"Oh WOW, Gracie! This is awesome! But, why did you get me a-"

"Because I'm keeping your old coat," she interrupted, her tone allowing no argument.

"Why?" I asked, confused.

Grace looked at me with eyes full of emotion.

"Because that coat is what you wrapped around me to keep me warm, while you were soaking wet and naked in the freezing cold. While I was unconcious and helpless, you kept me safe and warm while enduring hypothermia for yourself. That coat is more to me than just a garment. Much more! It represents to me the lengths to which you'll go to take care of me."

Grace leaned into me and hugged me tightly, laying her cheek against my chest for a moment. "It's a precious gift that I'm going to keep forever. Of course, that means that you need a new coat, so..." She gestured towards the new one she'd just given me. "I hope you like it!"

Mom and Dad smiled at us, Mom surreptitiously wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "Happy Birthday!" they said.

"Thank you all so much. I love you!"

###

As the days passed and Christmas approached, Mom and Dad made preparations for the holiday, and preperations to get back on the road. They planned to ring in the New Year in Nashville, which was one of their favorite places to visit.

My left leg was healing quickly. Gradually, as the skin and muscle healed and knitted, the dissolving sutures disappeared. Finally, Dr. Kahn released me to get the area wet. He also released me to normal activities. It was such a relief to able to walk around freely again (not to mention being able to attend my classes again, even if it was only in time to sit my semester finals), without having to "take it easy" on my leg.

Grace helped me with some gentle stretching exercises to get me back into my routine gradually. By the time the week of Christmas arrived, I was back on the stationary bike with her again (and still dropping out before she did, too, damn it!) Maybe when the spring rolled around and we could ride outside again, things would be different, but I doubted it.

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold, complete with a fairly impressive snowfall. I was pleased. We hadn't had many white Christmases in this part of Indiana in recent memory. The house was filled with the amazing smell of the spiced cider Mom made every Christmas.

We shared a glass of it together as a family, along with a very light breakfast, before getting down to the gifts! Gracie and I had gone in together and got our parents a beautiful Amish-made quilt with matching shams. Mom loved these beautiful, warm quilts and so did Dad.

Gracie gave me a nice tuckable concealment holster for the pistol I'd received for my birthday. It looked comfortable. I gave Gracie a pretty silk scarf. It was a pale pink with red trim, and featured the Korean Hangul characters for "strength," "love," and "forever." It also had a red pheonix emblazoned boldly across it, which in Korean spirituality signifies the south. Yes, I'm a font of knowledge that has questionable utility. No one will play Trivial Pursuit with me anymore.

As Gracie admired her gift, I leaned in close and whispered into her ear. "As soon as you're finished, meet me in my room." Grace nodded her understanding, and I left her to compare gifts with Mom.

Because they always try to invite the entire family (literally) for Christmas dinner, we always gathered at the steakhouse my Grandparents owned. It wasn't opened for business of course, it's simply the most convenient place we have that can accommodate our huge extended family. I guess the best way to put it is, it's a combination of a family reunion, Christmas party, and dinner all rolled into one occasion. In spite of what I said about our Thanksgiving gathering (which was a good deal smaller), I usually ended up enjoying myself immensely.

However, the restaurant was a two-hour drive from our house and we always helped with setting things up, so I knew we'd be leaving soon.

I hurried upstairs, set my gifts on the dresser, and took a quick shower. On my return to my room, Grace was there waiting. Her eyes wandered appreciately up and down my nude form as she licked her lips seductively.

"Oh, how I wish we could, baby, but there's no time," I said, wistfully. "However, I did have one more gift for you, and I didn't want to give it to you in front of anyone else."

And then, feeling a small amount of nervous tension, I showed her my gift. It was...well, it was kind of a risky thing to give her, especially considering the warning Grandma had given us. But I couldn't help myself.

I had discovered a nice – and unexpected – fringe benefit of college life: you meet all kinds of interesting talented people! Some time ago, I'd met a young woman in the Student Union. I won't bore you with all the details of our meeting, but suffice it to say, she's the only blind artisan I've ever known. You might think it's strange, how someone with that particular disability is able to create such breathtaking artistry in metal, but there's no denying her talent!

She was happy to do a specially commissioned piece for me, for next to nothing. All I had to do was supply her with the raw materials she needed for the job, and agree to repair the extremely complicated interface that allowed her to use a computer without the cumbersome voice interface (the thing she used was tempermental at best, and was notoriously unreliable, like most experimental gear is. But, electrical engineering is MY chosen profession, and I'm pretty good!)

Theresa, (that's her name) with minimal input from me, created a ring that was perfect for my beautiful Grace. The band, though golden in color, was not actual gold. Of course, one could be forgiven for not noticing that. The design, an intertwined pattern of tiny leaves and vines, was so intricate and artfully wrought, that I don't think anyone will ask what it's made out of! But the crowning feature of the ring is the smashed remains of the bullet I had fired into the floor, the first time I'd "saved" Grace.

When I'd given the bullet to Theresa and asked what could be done with it, she'd simply held it in her cupped palm and smiled. "What a beautiful flower," she'd said.

"Flower?" I'd asked, flabbergasted.

"Oh, yes, don't you see it?" she asked. "It's almost like a little rose!"

She ran her nimble, delicate fingers over the fragments of the bullet jacket, tracing their outline. To my utter amazement, with her hands, she was able to "show" me what she "saw:" a pretty, delicate flower made of jagged metal. The remains of the jacket material were the petals. The lump of the lead core was the center of the bloom. The base was the stem...and she envisioned what she would create right there before my astonished eyes.

Over the course of just a few days, Theresa deftly shaped it, trimming here and polishing there, creating a beautiful rose with which to crown her masterpiece. She even applied some sort of coating over the exposed lead core, to make it safe to touch. I was left literally speechless when she delivered the final product to me.

"My God, Theresa, this is incredible!" I remember saying, awestruck.

She'd smiled at me. "You never told me who you're giving this to, but whoever she is, Kevin, she's one lucky girl. I'm sure she'll say yes!" Theresa had then made her way back to her work bench, still grinning happily.

If only you knew the half of it, Theresa, I thought to myself as I left her workshop.

Grace stared at the ring laying there on the black velvet cushion, too stunned for words.

"Is...is that the bullet, Kevin?" she asked, awed.

"Yeah it is, honey," I replied.

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," Grace replied quietly. "May I?" she asked, indicating the ring. When I nodded affirmatively, she lifted it carefully from the ring cushion.

"Sometimes great beauty can come from ugliness," I said. I'd practiced this speech, but I was still nervous about getting it just right. "This bullet was once a jagged piece of lead and copper. Now it's a beautiful rose!"

I gazed intently into Gracie's eyes as she tore her face away from the ring.

"In that same vein, the ugliness of our breaking up with Kelly and Matt led to the beauty of what we're making together, Grace. That's what this ring means to me. It seals the convenant between us, my love! While I can't take you as my wife in any legal sense, with this ring, I intend to bind myself to you as your husband in every other way. If you accept it."

"Yes!" she exclaimed fiercely. "Oh God, Kevin, a million times YES!"

Gracie threw her arms around me and clung to me like a drowning woman might cling to a life vest. She pushed back slightly and pulled my face down for a scorchingly hot kiss. When she finally broke that kiss, she had happy tears in her eyes.

"I've already declared myself to you, Kevin. I'm yours, mind, body, and spirit. But this amazing ring is just...oh Kevin!"

Our lips met again. After we parted that second time, Gracie carefully slipped the ring onto her ring finger, admiring it. She grinned knowingly at me as she realized it was a perfect fit. Yes, of course I found out her ring size, c'mon!

I tenderly squeezed her hand. "You'll probably have to be a little careful about wearing it until we've decided to reveal our intentions-"

"I know, I know, honey," she said, pressing her finger over my lips. "But for just this moment, let me enjoy this, okay?"

I nodded my head, and wordlessly enjoyed the moment with her as she basked in the glow of our love. I love Gracie in all her moods, but this one will always be my favorite. I love the way her eyes dance when she's so happy. I love the way her body relaxes; her every movement portrays her feelings.

I knew I was in trouble when I got another look at her face. She had her wicked little grin, the one that told me she was plotting something.

"It occurs to me, all of a sudden, that I owe you another gift," she purred, stepping closer to me again. "Fortunately, I happen to have just the thing!"

She turned away again and quickly locked my bedroom door. "Grace," I said, softly, "Baby we don't have time-"

"Then we'll MAKE time," she said, hungrily. She pulled the damp towel away from my unresisting fingers and tossed it in my hamper, then gently pushed me down onto the chair by my bed. She quietly knelt between my spread legs, and without warning, practically inhaled my cock!

She locked eyes with me and held my gaze with hers, as her mouth slid slowly up and down my shaft. "Ohhh, Gracie," I whispered, as my fingers dug into the chairs upholstery.

She gently rubbed my balls while she pleasured me. I felt her tongue swirling around the head of my manhood as she sucked, and the sensation was driving me wild! Knowing that we had a very short time, she used her other hand to stroke my shaft, following her mouth up and down. I could feel my orgasm building rapidly.

"Baby...oh, Gracie, baby, you feel so good...oh, honey I'm gonna cum!" I gasped, urgently. Grace, still not looking away from my eyes, sped up her pace and added a little extra suction to every upstroke. I bit my lip to keep from crying out loud as I came, filling her loving mouth with my seed. She eagerly took all I had to give and swallowed eagerly. She'd told me several times since that first time how much she enjoyed pleasuring me this way. She didn't merely suck my cock, she made love to me with her mouth!

I pulled her up and into my arms for a deep, loving kiss (I'd gotten past all squeamishness about tasting my own stuff. Grace deserved a passionate kiss, and damn it she was going to get one!) As she carefully stood up, avoiding my mostly healed leg, she made sure to stay out of my grasp.

"Hey!" I said, playfully. "Don't I get a taste of you?"

"Not right now, sweetheart!" she said, smiling. "This was a gift just for you. I also wanted to take the edge off, in case the Christmas party runs later than expected. I also did it because I love you so much! Now, I have to clean up, and we both need to dress, so get yourself moving before Mom and Dad come to see what's taking so long!"

I rarely need to be told something like that twice; I got myself moving!

###

The Kindest Cut, our grandparent's steakhouse, was housed in a very old brick building. I have no idea what the building originally was; it had been the restaurant for as far back as I could remember (which is reasonable, considering it had been there longer than I have, myself!).

Grace and I were driving in my Subaru. Mom and Dad were driving the RV, towing Mom's Bug on the trailer. They planned to spend the night in the RV in the restaurant parking lot, and get right on the road the next morning.

As I pulled into the restaurant parking lot, we saw – not surprisingly – the only other vehicles there belonged to our grandparents, and Chet, who was one of our cousins. While Grandma and Grandpa still owned the restaurant, it was Chet and his wife Melissa that actually ran the day-to-day operations.

It looks like, surprise surprise, we will be the only ones helping set up for the dinner, I thought to myself. This had been the case most years, so most of my bitterness about it had worn off.

Grandma and Grandpa came to the door and let us in, with hugs and warm handshakes. Mom and Dad both gratefully accepted mugs of eggnog as we moved in to the dining area. I declined, as I was going to be driving. Grace took a Diet Pepsi. Within moments, our cousin Chet and Melissa emerged from the doors to the kitchen, bringing the mouthwatering scents of dinner with them. I noted that Melissa was pregnant! I'd missed seeing everyone on Thanksgiving of course, but you'd have thought someone would have told me.

I shook Chet's hand and congratulated him. He in turn complimented me on my quick thinking. "It's a good thing you and Gracie stick together, Kev," he said, eyes twinkling. "I don't want anything else to happen to my favorite cousin!"

I rolled my eyes, and laughed with him. Then I gave Melissa a hug and a peck on the cheek. I guess it's true what they say about pregnant women (well, pregnant women who are happy about it, anyway): Melissa was practically glowing.

"Are you having a boy or a girl?" Grace asked, as she hugged Melissa.

"A girl!" she responded, with a delighted squeak.

Melissa was tiny, even with her baby bump. She'd always been petite, barely taller than Grandma. If I hadn't just been told she was pregnant, I might have thought she'd stuffed a pillow under her shirt. She was cute as a button, with a bubbly personality, and rarely had a bad word to say about anyone. It was easy to see why Chet fell in love with her. I had no doubt she'd be a wonderful mother.

Chet was, well, big. He stood six-foot five-inches, easily. He was also chunky, without – quite – crossing the border into being fat. He was the kind of guy that was born for any profession that required dealing with people on a personal level. He could literally schmooze with just about anyone without sounding fake. His charm and business acumen combined with his wife's organizational talent and patience made them the obvious choice to manage the restaurant.

Dad and I started arranging the tables according to the seating chart Grandma had drawn up, while Mom and Grace helped Melissa in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Chet wrestled the heavy cart with the plates, flatware, and place settings out of the storage nook. It took a lot less time than I had been afraid it would. With everyone working, we made good time and actually had a moment to enjoy another drink before the first of our other family members arrived.

My Uncle Trent and his wife Lily arrived first. Trent was the closest in age to my Mother, being only 14 months older. They had four boys, and a girl. My cousins from that branch were a mixed bag; one was in Federal Prison (I honestly don't know what for), two were serving overseas in the Armed Forces (it figures, I had actually hoped to see them), one was a social worker (she was going to be here tonight), and the last one was a missionary in South America.

I liked Aunt Lily. She was really quiet, most of the time, but also unfailingly kind. My Uncle Trent was not one of my favorite relatives, though. He had a nasty streak that occasionally surfaced, even though he tried to keep it under control around my grandparents. He wasn't really cruel per se... but he openly reveled in other peoples' misfortunes. I've also heard he has wandering hands. I often wondered how someone like Lily could stand him.