Graceful Waters

THREE MONTHS

“All right, settle down," Carey said as the girls entered the classroom. "Open your books, get those pens out and plug your brains in." Sitting on her desk, she waited for silence. "I've decided to make life easy on you." She noted the smiles on her charges, then continued. "You're still having your test next class, but I've made half of the answers multiple choice." Twenty teen faces drooped. "Now that I've made your day, let's talk about chapter twelve. What's the point of case history number six, the college student and the party?" She looked around, deciding who would be her first victim. "Bowen?"

"She took a chance and lost, ma'am."

"Well, that's one way to put it," Carey said. "Waters."

"She had unprotected sex just once, ma'am."

"Just once and she contracted HIV," Carey said. "What was her reasoning behind having sex without a condom, let's see...Jones."

"He said he didn't have.one, ma'am."

"Think that's a good enough reason?"

"No, ma'am," several girls answered.

"Why not? Campbell."

"She could have carried some with her if she was planning on getting laid, ma'am."

"She could," Carey agreed. "What was her other reason? Rosetti."

"He didn't look like someone who would have any diseases, ma'am."

"That's right, if someone is carrying HIV, it's obvious, right?"

"No, ma'am."

"So because she was horny and he looked good, she played Russian Roulette with her life and lost," Carey said. "All for the cost of a condom. At least then she would have had a fighting chance. Campbell, since you think it's all right to have sex with strangers as long as you carry condoms, would using a condom have made her completely safe?"

"Mostly, ma'am."

"Believing that a condom will protect you is like believing that an umbrella is going to protect you from the rain," Carey said. "It tears, it rolls off, certain lubricants can weaken or even dissolve the latex, and of course the best is Prince Charming takes it off before entry because he doesn't like the way it feels. So what's the answer?" She looked around, noticing every girl found great interest in the floor or wall with the hopes that she would not call upon them. "Bowen, why don't you enliven us with one of your witty answers?"

"Stock up on batteries, ma'am?"

Carey waited for the giggling to die down. "That's actually one of your better answers," she said. "Certainly in hindsight Jane would have chosen masturbation over anonymous sex."

"Kinda hard with thirty-three other people in the room," Rosetti said.

"Not that it stops you," Jan said.

"Eew," Latisha said. "That's disgusting."

"All right," Carey said. "Cut the cross talk. Jones, it's perfectly natural to masturbate, though there are appropriate times and places."

Grace looked down at her textbook, knowing that was one of the benefits of not living in the barracks. She was lucky the couch did not have metal springs that could squeak and give her away on the rare occasions when the need had arisen. It certainly made things easier for her despite the fear of being discovered.

"And as far as Bowen's answer is concerned," Carey continued. "Remember that rechargeable batteries or plug-in models are better for the environment." Several girls giggled and a few made buzzing sounds until she held her hands up for them to settle down. "It's safer than exposing yourself to someone else's sex life."

When the question formed in her mind as it so naturally would, Grace found she could not look at Carey's face, embarrassed to even think of it. She doesn't. She can't. She goes right to sleep, every night. Could she? With me in the next room? No way.

"Waters."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, looking at the instructor's hair and not her face for fear she would blush and give her thoughts away.

"Back to the original question, if condoms alone cannot protect you from a sexually transmitted disease, what can you do to protect yourself?"

"Know your partner's sexual history, ma'am?"

"You need more than that," Carey said. "You'd need to know the history of everyone your partner has had sex with and who they've had sex with and on and on. Try again."

"Um…I can't think of anything except being with a virgin, ma'am," Grace said.

"Like you'll find a guy who is," Rosetti said.

"And even if you did, who'd want him?" Campbell added. "He wouldn't know what to do."

"They don't know what to do no matter how much experience they have," Jan said.

"Before this gets out of hand," Carey said. 'The only way to truly protect yourself is to have both of you take a physical as well as blood tests to check for HIV or other diseases, then stay abstinent during the required period thereafter to take a second test."

"Like any guy is going to wait," Mo said.

"It's your choice to take chances with your life," Carey said. "If you're planning on spending a life with him, a few weeks shouldn't make a difference and if he respects you, he'll wait." She shrugged. "If he doesn't...well, what does that say about him?"

"What?"

"I didn't say anything," Grace said, making sure she looked down at the book in her lap.

"Grace, you've been looking over here at me every ten seconds for the last five minutes," Carey said, closing her book and removing her reading glasses. "Now either you want to talk to me about something or I've grown horns out of the top of my head. Which is it?"

Caught, Grace tried to think of a tactful way to ask her question. "I was just thinking about something you said in class today," she said. "It's not important."

"If it wasn't important, you wouldn't be fidgeting like you have ants in your pants," Carey said.

"I don't know how to say it," Grace admitted, feeling the blush creeping up her neck. "It's...embarrassing."

"Ah, I take it your question has something to do with Sexual Responsibility and not Self-Defense." Carey leaned forward in her seat. "What's your question, Grace?"

"Well..." Just say it. "You were talking about-about masturbation," she said, blushing hotly. "And well…I was wondering..." Grace found she could not look the instructor in the eyes and focused her gaze on the coffee table. "You said it was natural and there's nothing wrong with it."

"I'm glad you were paying attention," Carey said. "It's perfectly normal to masturbate. My grandmother used to say, now mind you she was a product of the thirties and forties, but she used to say better to get a little sauce on the hand than a bun in the oven."

"You mean pregnant," Grace said, receiving a clarifying nod. "So everyone does it?"

Carey shrugged. "I don't know about everyone, but I bet most people do from time to time."

"Do you?" It was the question that insisted on coming out and once it did, Grace would have given anything to take it back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask that."

Carey put her hands on the armrests and pushed back, forcing the foot of the recliner to rise. "I think that's rather personal, don't you?"

Grace shook her head. "Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."

"Grace, look at me." Carey's face was understanding and kind with no trace of censure. "I don't want you to be embarrassed about sex, but your question did catch me off guard. I don't think anyone has ever asked me that before. But for your information only, and I don't want to hear about it in the teenage grapevine, yes." Grace remained silent, prompting Carey to ask, "Was that all you wanted to know?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

Grace adjusted the pressure and temperature, then stepped into the shower stall. The water pressure in Carey's cabin was higher than in the barracks, a fact that Grace was sure only she could appreciate. Of course, she could only appreciate it when Carey had evening duty, lest the instructor question why she was spending so long in the shower. Leaning against the wall, she set her left foot on the corner seat, exposing herself to the pulsing water. Oh Carey, you should try this, she thought, adjusting herself to get just the right angle for the pulsing bursts of water. Then again, maybe you already do. Closing her eyes, Grace conjured up her faceless woman, always ready and willing to do her bidding. The sensation was different from her fingers, making it easy for her to imagine her faceless lover kneeling between her legs and pleasuring her. That's it, lick it, she silently bade her fantasy woman. Oh, this feels so good. A low groan escaped her throat as she held herself open to the pulsing water. Eyes shut tight, she envisioned a dark head just beyond her fingers, her pleasure giver suddenly becoming less of a blur. Flashes of Carey playing around with her in the lake, holding her on the rappelling wall, on top of her in Self-Defense, and just hanging around in the cabin all flashed through her mind as the sensation became too intense and she tumbled over the edge. "Oh God," she gasped, sliding down along the shower wall until she was sitting. Water pelted her face and hair while she gave herself time to recover. Carey? The woman that loves to drop me for ten every chance she can get? Grace shook her head. Oh no. I cannot think of her like that. I have to live with her. I can't be thinking about what she looks like naked. She thought back to the day at the lake. I bet she's got nice ones, nice and big and suckable. No no no, absolutely not. Still she could not deny the erotic thrill that shot through her veins at the thought of Carey kneeling between her legs.

"Name please?" Instructor Donaldson asked, pen and clipboard ready.

"Richard Waters," the large burly man said, looking up from his compact rental car. "I understand my daughter Graceful is here."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're not on the approved list," she said. "You're her father?"

"Yes. I'm allowed visitation. I have a copy of the custody order." He held out a paper, worn along the folds. The blonde woman took the paper, looking it over before handing it back.

"Please wait here," she said, waving at the dark-haired woman to come over. He rubbed his short beard while the two women talked. The blonde woman returned. "Pull over to that building. Instructor Carey will meet you there."

"Thank you," he said, putting the car in gear. He pulled into the lot and parked his car, getting out when the dark haired woman approached. "Hello, I'm Richard Waters," he said, holding out his hand.

"Instructor Joanna Carey," she said. "Come inside please." She opened the door but he refused to move.

"Ladies first," he said. Carey gave a slight nod, then led him to her office.

"Please have a seat," she said, setting her hat on the hook and running her fingers through her short black hair. "I'm afraid we had no notice of your arrival," she said. "Usually all visitations are pre-approved."

"I wasn't sure I'd make it and no one told me about having to get permission first," he said. "Can you at least tell me if she's all right?"

"She's fine," Carey said. "I'm Grace's mentor as well as head instructor here. I understand you haven't seen her in many years."

He looked down. "That's true," he admitted, scratching the short blond beard. "It's been just about ten years now." He looked up. "But that's still a valid visitation order."

"I'm going to check on that," Carey said, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out Grace's folder. "Do you have identification, by the way?"

"Oh sure," he said, pulling a thick wallet from his back pocket. "Do you want my phone number there, too?"

"I think that would be a good idea," she said, pushing a piece of paper and pen across the desk.

"Here's my driver's license," he said, holding the fat wallet open.

Carey glanced at the identification but what caught her attention was the thick fanfold strip of photos.

"Are these all Grace?" she asked, the top picture showing a young girl sitting on the steps, her blonde hair shining in the sun.

"That's her," he said, taking the wallet back. "And this one..." He tapped the next photo. "She always looked so pretty in that dress."

"She looks about six or seven," Carey said.

"Ayup," he said. "She would have been six and a half when I took that picture." He scratched his beard and closed his wallet. "The last time I saw her she had pigtails and scabbed knees."

"That was a long time ago," she said, closing the folder.

"I know," he said. "Listen, here's my calling card number too, in case she needs to call me for anything." He wrote a long series of numbers on the paper.

"If I can ask, why now?"

"I didn't know where she was before this," he said. "I received a notice from the court that my support payments were being diverted to the state and so I called to find out why. They just told me she was here and that the third Sunday of the month was the only time for visits so I hopped on the first plane I could find and headed out."

"How could you not know?"

"I have a vindictive ex-wife," he said, leaning back in his seat, his bulky frame filling the whole seat. "She kept moving and not letting me know, and when I complained she went back to court and made up lies to get a restraining order. That allowed her to get her address sealed from me. It didn't help that I lived on the other side of the country."

Carey looked over the court document, verifying the visitation order had not been superseded by the state's custody order. "You're right," she said. "Living so far away probably didn't help. Everything is in order here. I'll take you to one of the rooms and have Grace brought to you."

"Miss Carey? Can you tell me something about her?" He looked away. "I mean, is this place going to help her?"

Carey stood up, causing him to rise as well. "Mr. Waters, Grace is an intelligent young woman who needs discipline, guidance, and a great deal of love and support. Everything else I think you can ask her about."

He rubbed his hands together. "What if she doesn't want to see me?"

Carey walked to the door. "Unfortunately, that's a chance you're just going to have to take. As I said, she needs a great deal of love. I don't think she'll turn away an opportunity to get that love."

Grace entered the rec room, spotting Jan sitting near the window.

"Bowen, you up for ping pong?"

"Sure," Jan said, rising from the chair and joining her at the table.

"No visitors either, huh?"

Grace shook her head. "No. I didn't figure she'd come back after last time." She handed the other teen a paddle. "You serve."

"My dad's given up on me, I think," Jan said as she took her side. "Zero serving zero."

Grace snorted, then returned the serve. "Mine gave up a long time ago," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was...damn." Picking the ball up off the floor, she tossed it over the small net. "Lucky shot."

"Luck nothing, Waters. One serving zero."

"Anyway, I haven't seen him since I was a kid. Aha!"

"Now that was luck," Jan said, tossing the ball to her. "I wish I hadn't seen mine since I was a kid. He's a real prick. Thinks I'm going to have an eight o'clock curfew. I'm seventeen, for Christ's sake."

"One serving one. The problem is they can't remember what it was like when they were our age." They volleyed several times before Grace failed to make the cross shot. "Shit. That's the problem, you know. They forget what it's like."

There was a knock on the wall. "Waters." Instructor Donaldson stood in the doorway. "You have a visitor."

"I don't want to see her, ma'am," Grace said, motioning for Jan to throw her the ping pong ball.

"Funny, I don't remember asking," the tall blonde said. "Move it, Waters."

Grace set the paddle and ball on the table. "Yes, ma'am. See you later, Jan."

"Good luck," Jan replied.

Grace expected to see her mother waiting for her when she entered the room. "Excuse me, I must have the wrong room," she said when she saw the man sitting at the instructor's desk.

"Graceful?" He had aged, his hair no longer the thick blonde that she remembered but now thin and receding. Still, there was no mistaking the blue eyes looking back at her so much like her own.

"Daddy? H-how?" Shocked, she allowed herself to be engulfed in his lumberjack arms. The short beard that tickled her cheek and the smell of his cologne resurrected memories long ago forgotten.

"My little pumpkin," he said, his deep baritone voice still the same as she remembered. "Let me take a look at you." He held her at arm's length, his smile as wide as it could be. "Look how pretty you've become."

"How did you know where I was?" she asked, thinking he used to seem so much taller than he did now. Of course, she was much shorter then. "Did you talk to Ma?”

"No," he said. "I got a notice from the state saying they were taking your child support so I called to find out why. I have to tell you I damn near fell out of my chair when I found out." He squeezed her shoulders. "Are you doing okay here?"

"I'm surviving," Grace said, backing away from him and sliding into the nearest desk chair. "Ma told me she had no idea where to look for you except that she thought you might have been in Alaska."

"She knew where your grandparents lived," he said. "They knew where I was. The courts knew where I was because they sure enough took child support from me." He shook his head. "That's neither here nor there now."

Now that the shock was wearing off, question after question formed in her mind. "Why didn't you ever come see me?"

He pulled the teacher's chair out from behind the desk and sat down next to her. "I don't have a good answer for that, pumpkin. Your mother and me were fighting so hard and every time I came to see you we'd get into a fight and after a while it was just easier to stay away. Then I got the job in Anchorage and even though it was far away, the higher pay was enough for me to live on and still pay my child support." He took his hand in hers, his callused fingers rubbing over her knuckles. "I thought I'd do it for just a few years and save up enough money to afford to come back but-I'm sorry, Grace. I love you very much and I never meant to hurt you."

"You didn't try hard enough," Grace said, the little girl's pain flaring inside. "All I know is one day you were gone and you never came back. You didn't come back for my birthday, you didn't come back for Christmas, you just disappeared and forgot all about me."

"I never forgot about you," he said. "You know what?" He reached back and pulled out a thick leather wallet from his rear pocket. "Look." Opening it up, he showed her the photo section filled with various pictures of her as a, little girl. "I carried these with me because they were all I had of you."

"Why didn't you take me with you?"

"It wasn't for lack of trying," he said. "I went to court against your mother half a dozen times and she kept coming up with lies to keep me from getting anything more than minimal visitation."

Grace stared at their intertwined hands, remembering the poison her mother used to spew about her father when they were going through their divorce. "I wish you had won," she said sadly. "Ma got involved with a lot of assholes after you left."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin," he said. "I know I should have been there." He looked around the room. "Maybe then you wouldn't be here."

Grace pulled her hand back. "Did they tell you what happened?"

"I came home from logging and found the letter from the state. It just told me about the support." He took her hand again. "All I could think of was something terrible had happened to you. I called and they told me you were here."

"Did they say why?" she asked. Her father shook his head. "I threw a chair at a teacher," she said, wondering what his reaction would be. So much for being his perfect little daughter, she thought to herself. Bet you wished you stayed in Alaska.

"Well…” He gave a quick squeeze. "Sounds like you inherited the Waters temper."

"Big disappointment, huh?"

"I'm not happy to hear that you did something like that but you're not a disappointment to me, Graceful. It happened, it's in the past, you move on and do better the next time."

"People call me Grace," she said.

"Grace, hmm?" Letting go of her hand, he reached out and cupped her cheek. "You'll always be my Graceful little girl."

"Whose idea was that anyway?" she asked. "Do you have any idea what it's like going through life with a name like Graceful Lake Waters?"

He chuckled and sat back. "It was both," he said. "Your maternal grandmother's maiden name was Lake and I came up with Graceful."

"The last two years have been anything but graceful," she said. "Obviously, I'm here."

"But it's in the past and tomorrow's another day," he said. "You move on from here." Leaning his elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together. "Graceful, you can be anything you want to be if you try hard enough. I know I haven't been there the last ten years but I can still remember the little girl who wanted to ride a bike without training wheels more than anything. It didn't matter how many times you fell, you just kept getting back up and had me give you another push."

"And I used to cry-because you made me stop when it got dark out," she said, sharing the memory. "I remember when you came home with that bicycle."

"I have a picture of you on that bike," he said, gesturing at the wallet.

"I had it blown up and it sits on the mantel in my house."

"I still can't believe you're here," she said. "I can't believe you still came to see me after finding out where I was."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Once I knew how to find you, nothing else mattered. You're my daughter. If you came and told me you wanted to tattoo your entire body and marry a rock star, I'd ask you if you've seen a psychiatrist and then I would ask if you were happy. If you were, I'd give you my blessing."

"What if I wanted to be the rock star?"

"As long as you didn't inherit the Waters tin ear, if it made you happy and you could earn a living at it, why not?" He took her hand again. "I don't want you becoming a drug dealer or a porn star or anything like that," he said. "But who am I to deny you something that makes you

happy?"

"I'm an adult now," she said. "I can do what I want."

"For the most part," he said. "But you'll always be my little girl and I'm always going to want what's best for you."

"Why Alaska? That's so far away."

"That's where the money was, pumpkin. I earned almost twice as much as I was making here. There aren't that many trees left in this state. In my line of work, Alaska was the only place where I could make a decent living." He let go of her hand and stood up. "I'm sorry, Graceful. In hindsight I should never have gone." Turning his back to her, he leaned forward and put his meaty hands on the desk. "I suppose in a way this is my fault too for not being there for you."

Silence reigned as Grace worked through her feelings. First there was the seven-year-old who cried for her father night after night until it was clear he never would return. There was the thirteen-year-old who cursed him for leaving her, for not acknowledging birthdays and special events. Finally there was the seventeen-year-old, struggling to reconcile the past with the gentle man before her, admitting his mistakes and wanting to do better. The decision was hers, keep the hurt and push him away or forgive him and try to repair the frayed bond between them. "But…it's in the past now, right?"

The blond man nodded and turned to face her. "Tomorrow is another day," he said.

"Is this a one-time thing or will I see you again?"

"I gave my phone number and address to one of the ladies in charge here," he said. "I spend a lot of time up at the logging camps but I'm usually home once or twice a month. Cell phones and pagers don't work too well up there. Towers can't get the feed into those remote areas. If you want to see me, just send word and I'll make sure either you can get to me or I will get to you. You're a senior this year, right?"

"I was," she said. "I'll be taking my GED test soon."

"Are you going to college?"

"I can't afford college even if one would let me in with my grades," she said.

"I suppose you know your old man never made it out of eleventh grade," he said. "Always thought my girl would go to college."

"So you want me to go college?"

"It's what you want that's important," he said. "What is it you want?"

"I don't know," she said. "Part of me wants to because I want to get a degree and make good money but another part doesn't want to spend four more years in school even if I could afford it."

"So if there was a way you could afford to go, would you?"

"Maybe. What do you want?" she asked.

"I want my daughter to be happy," he said. "If you want to go to college, we'll figure out a way to make it happen. I'll love you no matter what."

Carey found Grace sitting at the kitchen table, her notebook open.

"How did your visit go?"

"Hi." The teen looked up, smiling. "It was great," she said. "He stayed until visitation was over."

"I know. I saw you walk him to his car."

"He said he'd come back next month," Grace said.

"That's good," Carey said. "I'm glad you had a nice visit."

"I did. I was surprised to see him but he's great. He looks older but he's still Dad. I told him what I did to end up here and he was really understanding about it."

"And you're all right with seeing him again after all these years?" Carey asked. "You're not angry with him?"

Grace shrugged. "A little. I told him so but like he said, we can't change the past."

"This from a girl who threw a chair at a teacher because he told her she wasn't living up to her potential," Carey said, ruffling the short blonde hair as she passed. "I'm really glad you had a nice visit with your father."

"He said he's coming back next month."

"I know, you told me already." Carey smiled and opened the refrigerator. "It only takes a little effort on each side to repair that bond you two once had."

"He doesn't seem as tall as he did then."

"That's because you've grown since you saw him and he hasn't," Carey said, taking a can of soda out of the refrigerator.

Grace giggled. "Yes he has," she said, holding her arms out in front of her stomach.

"He is a big man," Carey said, opening her soda. "He's a lumberjack, right?"

"Right."

"Certainly looks the part." She took a Sip. "So you told him everything you did?"

Grace looked down. "Not everything," she admitted. "I told him the big thing I did and he didn't seem worried about the rest of it."

"Did you talk to him about what's going on with you and your mother?"

"No."

Carey leaned back in her chair. "Your father mentioned he and your mother had an acrimonious relationship after the divorce."

"If that means they hated each other's guts, yeah," Grace said.

"Your definition is pretty close. Did they fight in front of you?"

"If they were in the same house, they fought," Grace said. "Dad would tell you that it started the minute he came through the door but she'd be badmouthing him to me before he'd get home." She returned to the table. "How can two people who got married end up hating each other so much?"

"Unfortunately it happens," Carey said. "That's why it's so important to get to know the man you're with before you tie the knot and make babies."

“I'm not planning on getting married or having kids anytime soon,"

Grace said.

Carey silently watched as the young woman scribbled across a piece of paper, tore it out of her notebook, then started writing on a fresh sheet only to repeat the process seconds later. "Time for a break," she said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a second can of soda. "What are you working on, anyway?"

"What else," Grace said. "Goal setting for PF."

Carey held out the can. "And I know how much you love setting goals. Let's go into the living room and talk about it, then you can come back and try again."

"Okay," Grace said, following her out of the kitchen.

Carey sat in her recliner and put the footrest up, then turned on the lamp next to her. It was one of her favorite times of the day, when she would relax in her chair and help Grace with homework or just listen to the teen sort out the complex issues of life. "So you need to set some goals. Here's the million-dollar question. What do you want your life to be, Grace?"

"I don't know," the teen said. "I know I want to own my own house and a nice car and money and all the things everyone else has."

"That's quite a bit," Carey said. "So start with the first one. A house. Why a house, why not a condo or rent an apartment?"

"Renting sucks," Grace said. "You pay all that money every month to someone else and you don't get anything for it."

"And with a mortgage you know that every month you're paying toward owning it outright," Carey said. "So one of your goals is to own your own house."

"I can't just put a simple answer down," Grace said. "Gage wants not only the goal but the means to get the goal."

"So think about what kind of house you want, where it would be, how much it would cost. Where you live makes a difference too. In Iroquois County, the tax rate is higher than up north in Seneca County."

"So if I buy in an area with a lower tax, it'll be cheaper for me to live," Grace said.

"It should, but keep in mind that there are other factors. If not, everyone would live in counties with lower tax brackets and turn the bigger ones into ghost towns. Let's take Seneca County. Many of the properties up there are on the lakes or up in the mountains, not near any supermarkets, schools, or even emergency services. I have a cottage on Lake Bragg and going to the store requires getting in the truck and driving around the lake if I want to use the little market in Packard. There's no grocery store on every other corner. If I want to go to a supermarket, that's a good hour drive."

"You could use up the savings just in gas," Grace said.

"Actually with planning the trips would be minimal, so there is a savings," Carey said.

"So you own a house?"

"It's a cottage," Carey said. "Want to see a picture?"

"Sure," Grace said enthusiastically, moving to the near end of the couch.

Carey opened the lamp-table drawer and pulled out a photo album. She found the right page and handed the album over.

"Big cabin," Grace said. "It's on the lake?"

Carey nodded. "North side. Biggest bass I've ever seen."

Grace flipped the page. "Is this your boat?"

"Yes. You can't see it in the picture but there's an outboard motor on the end. I built the fishing seats myself."

"Wow," Grace said, turning the page. "If I had a place like this, I'd never leave it."

Carey chuckled, knowing that feeling well. "Someday I'll retire and when I do, that's where I'm going. I love it up there."

"So why not live there now?" Grace asked.

"My goals," Carey-said. "I want to retire when I'm forty-five. In order to do that, I have to have enough money saved up to be able to live comfortably. The cottage and lake are ideal for tourists and hunters, so I rent out the cabin and put that money away."

"And you'll be able to quit working then?"

Carey shrugged. "Maybe. I might have to wait until I'm fifty. Depends on how my investments are doing."

"Wow, you're lucky," Grace said.

"Not luck, Grace, planning." Carey took a sip of soda, then set the can on the coaster. "When my father passed away, most of his estate went to my mother, but he left me some money. I bought the cottage even though I was still on active duty so I'd have a place to go when I was discharged. I rent it out to vacationers and hunters."

"Active duty. You mean when you were in the Coast Guard?" Carey nodded. "So you went from the Coast Guard to Sapling Hill?"

"I thought we were supposed to be talking about you and your goals," she said, taking another sip. "I served six years in the Guard, then came here. It'll be four years this August."

"So you get money from the renting and your paycheck here. You must be rolling in it."

Carey chuckled again. "I wouldn't say that, Grace, but I'm careful with my spending. I have monthly expenses living here like my phone and electricity. I have insurance on the truck and I pay a management company to oversee the rentals. I put money into my retirement and money market accounts, and I'm paying extra on my mortgage each month. It'll be paid off by the time I'm thirty-five. Again, what I have is because I planned long ago for what I wanted in the future."

"Uh-huh," Grace said. "Your cottage sounds really nice. I bet it's beautiful inside."

"It is," Carey said. "But when I retire I'm going to put an addition on the east side for a home office. I'm tired of doing my paperwork on that tiny little desk in the bedroom."

"So why not get a bigger desk for here?"

Carey held her arms out. "And where would I put it? Economy of space was the key when they designed this cabin. So, back to goals. Sometimes a sacrifice is required to make the goal a reality. And I think break time is over, young lady." She jutted her chin in the direction of the kitchen. "Back to work."

"All right," Grace sighed, rising from the couch. "I really like that cottage. Do you have more pictures?"

"Some, but I want to see some homework done and I want to see more practice questions for the GED test finished before I even think about showing them to you."

"Grace, it's five thirty."

The teen groaned and rolled over. "Okay, I'm up."

"Are you sure?" came the lightly teasing voice. "I don't hear any movement."

"I'm moving, just real slow," Grace said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "I'm not sure which I want more, the coffee or the bathroom."

"You're not making a puddle on my kitchen floor," Carey said. "Go. I'll make your coffee."

When Grace returned, a fresh mug of coffee was waiting for her on the counter. "You think you're ready?"

"As ready as I'm gonna be," Grace said, taking the mug and enjoying the first sip. "Either I know it or I don't."

"The GED isn't as hard as the SAT," Carey said. "You'll do just fine."

"What if I tank it?"

A reassuring hand squeezed Grace's shoulder. "You won't. I have faith in you."

"That makes one of us," Grace said, taking a sip. "So who's giving the test?"

"Instructor Donaldson," Carey said. "You'll be taking it in her classroom." She walked to the kitchen sink and rinsed her mug. "Look on the bright side, either way you're getting out of PT today."

"I'm not sure which is worse," Grace said. "I hate these kind of tests."

"I've got to go. You might want to break out the iron before you go to formation," Carey said. "Those creases looked a little weak yesterday."