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Just the Beginning

Denise Evans


Just the Beginning

  Copyright 2015 Denise Evans

 

  Acknowledgements

  I want to say thank you to all my beta readers and family. Thank you for downloading my story and coming on this journey with me. This is my third short story and I hope that I have improved . Please take a chance and download the other to see the differences. If you’re a friend of mine you might be featured, so please do not be surprised and plus only you and me know the truth. Once again thanks to all and I hope you enjoy!

 

  Just the Beginning

  Grace drove up the bumpy dirt road, curiosity filling her mind. When she finally pulled into the driveway, she had to take a deep breath to brace herself. "Lord, let me just get into this house,” she mumbled, climbing from the car. She didn't have the time or the energy to be social, but her mama had raised her right, so she plastered a smile on her face and walked around to the back of the car.

  "Hello! I'm Grace, David's niece," she yelled, spying a man working in the yard. The man working in the yard didn't speak right away. “Well, maybe he didn’t hear me,” Grace said with a shrug, and popped the trunk to remove her luggage.

  "Hola, my name is Manny.” The sudden sound of the man’s voice made Grace start. She turned to look at him. “Please to meet you. I'm here to finish your uncle's basement." He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. Grace noticed there were wood cutting tools and molding laying around.

  "Okay. I’ll stay out of your way while I’m here, then." Her own, slight accent seemed to stand out more following his. She closed her trunk and set her alarm.

  "How long will that be?" He turned and watched her walk towards the front door, passing right in front of him.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “About four days." She didn’t miss his admiring glance and her curiosity spiked, almost causing her steps to falter. She held his attention, more than a little intrigued, but quickly brushed the feeling away. She was tired and wanted to rebuild her defenses. That was why her uncle’s place was perfect. It was located deep in the mountains – no neighbors for miles. During her visit she planned to do nothing more than reconnect with her inner self and rebuild her wall.

  Manny watched her go, unable to stop himself from staring. She was her name, graceful in every way. Though she must have been tired from the drive from the city, she hid it well. She wore white Capri shorts and a yellow T-shirt with matching tennis shoes. She was cute – there was no doubt about that. "Okay, see you later," he called as she entered the house. As soon as she was out of sight, he took out his cell phone. “Hola. Si, she is here. Yes, I know what to do. I will keep you posted. Adios.”

  The two story cabin had four bedrooms and four and a half baths. There was an unfinished basement that was going to be an entertainment room, with a bar, small movie theater, and a place to play cards. Her uncle had built this place for family and friends to use to relax and have a good time. And that was exactly what Grace intended to do. She had just finished earning her bachelors in business administration while working full time at the local library. School and work full-time had taken a major toll on her. Then, once she graduated, the library had laid her off. That was a month ago.

  She had applied to a couple of places and was still waiting to be called for an interview. Tired and stressed from trying to find a new job, her defenses were low. She couldn't block other people’s emotions and stop them from assaulting her own. As she drove away from the city, she’d felt less pressure with less people around. That was why Uncle David’s cabin was the best spot to reconnect. As soon as she entered, she could tell that her uncle had everything set up for her. There were fresh fruit and flowers on the table and she would bet her left foot that her favorite wine was in the kitchen, too. A smile spread across her face. Uncle David always knew what she needed and provided it.

  Upstairs, there were two rooms on each side of the hallway. She passed the first bedroom on the right and noticed the door was cracked. She shook her head. That was strange - her uncle usually kept all the doors closed. He believed that an open door was an open invitation. Instantly, the stress and worries gripped her again. She reached for the knob and felt a comfort as she pulled the door shut. Pushing the thought aside, she opened the door to her own room – the last on the left.

  Once inside, she instantly started to unwind. She unpacked her clothes, bathroom toiletries, and her books. One book was a London novel and another was about regaining and maintaining balance in life. A wave of tension caused her to think back on the three hour drive from the city; she could still feel the chaotic emotions like dozens of fish stuck in a small bucket. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed those emotions away. After a few moments, she went to the bathroom and washed up. Then she stretched out across the bed. Finally, she thought. Calmness.

  Two hours later, Grace woke up to her stomach growling. She glanced around to get her bearings and her stomach rumbled again. Right on cue, she smelled delicious food cooking. Thoughts of her uncle being there made her happy and she quickly went to go downstairs. She stopped in the hallway and glanced down at her favorite college shirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks. Usually she would never let anyone see her in her relaxing clothes, but she didn’t care because she was comfortable and it was just her uncle. Before she made to the top of stairs, she noticed the first bedroom door was open again. She reached out to close it and a soft touch swept across her outreached hand. She tried to focus on the touch as she closed the door, but the smell of the food grabbed her attention again.

  Manny was singing quietly to himself and cooking when Grace came into the kitchen. He knew the moment Grace woke up and when she stood in the doorway to watch him. She didn’t know that her thoughts and emotions reached out to him. It felt like a soft caress. He glanced over his shoulder. “Hola, did you rest well?”

  Grace admired a man that could cook and for him to sing in tune was a plus. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Manny glanced over. She smiled back at him. “Yes, I did. I just came down to grab a little something to eat.” She reached into the cabinet and grabbed some pretzels. Before she could even open the bag her stomach growled again. She clutched her stomach out of embarrassment and quickly looked at Manny to see if he had noticed. She relaxed when he didn’t react.

  Without looking at her, he continued to stir the pot, smiling at her attempt to hide her embarrassment. “You don’t have to do that. I made enough soup for both of us. It goes well with the wine that’s on the table.” He nodded towards the table that was set for two.

  Her interest was once again piqued. She tried to build her wall against it, but it crumbled. I really need to work on my walls, she chided herself. Looking from the table to Manny, she gave up and sighed. “I would like that.”

  "Sit, then, and I will serve you. This is my mama's recipe. She used to say that food feeds the soul."

  She sat down. "It smells great and I do believe that saying is true." He put the bowl of food in front of her and poured the wine. She nodded her head in thanks and took a spoonful of soup. A slight moan escaped her before she could stop it. She looked up and saw the delight in Manny’s and quirk on his lips.

  Grace shyly looked up. "Oh sorry, I haven't had a homemade meal in a long time. You really know what you're doing." Gratitude and desire swept over her. Grace looked down at her food and wandered why his emotions were reaching out to her. She knew her defenses were weak, but she didn't think they were so weak she couldn't block anything from him. She shook her head and frowned because she found herself liking the idea that he was interested in her.

  Conversation over dinner was pleasant. They talked about their education, work, and hobbies. "It is har
d for me to believe that your hobby is pottery," Grace said with a smile, playing with the rim of her wine glass.

  "Why is that?" Manny asked stretching out his legs. Grace tried not to focus on how strong his legs looked. The wine relaxed her just enough.

  Looking up, she answered, "Well, you do carpentry. I thought you would do something else. Something with guns." She laughed because she knew how stereotypical that sounded.

  "Yeah, but it relaxes me. There is something about