Last Call, Last Resort
The Last Blurb for ATOF
Down in the depths of a dark unconsciousness, Grace felt a cold hand mold to the small of her back and propel her back into the reality that she fought so hard to hide from. Jerking at what she felt was a precarious sway of her bed and would most certainly end in her falling, she gasped when her gaze collided with a pair of dark sapphire eyes burned within the moonlight. Hurriedly jerking her hands through the tangled knot of golden curls, she squinted in the darkness to look for a clock to indicate the current time. Fumbling against the nightstand, she knocked over the prescriptions for a sleeping-aid and anti-anxiety, wincing when the noise she created echoed like a gunshot. Unnerved by the sounds and the way she was pinned by the blankets and sheets wrapped about her torso, her hands began to tremble as she clamped her fingers around the alarm clock. 2:30am--
“Gracie, calm down,” Nick’s soft velvet voice soothed, his hands circling about her upper arms to pull her from the tangle of bed-sheets. Wrapping her into a protective cocoon so she wouldn’t fight him as her senses alerted her to reality, he sighed heavily. She had always been a sound sleeper and hated to be disturbed even in the best of circumstances. It always took her awhile to become acclimated to consciousness. And, now with the traumatic death of her husband, she could barely sleep as it was. So, she took the necessary pills to render her unconscious, making her immune to any outside world. He knew he shouldn’t have bothered her after she took the sleeping pill, but it was unfortunately unavoidable. “I’m sorry I woke you up, Gracie, but it’s important.”
“What?” Grace whispered, tangling her fingers within his rumpled t-shirt to stabilize herself. He smelled faintly of dryer sheets and she knew he had been in bed as well. In a clean bed, in fact, compared to the disaster of bed sheets he usually fell into. Rubbing her face within his t-shirt, she yawned forcefully, though it halted when she heard a pitiful whimper.
“Izzy woke up and I tried to snuggle her back to sleep like she usually likes, but she wasn’t having me tonight. And, of course, she woke up her brother--”
“I’m up,” Grace promised hastily, stumbling from his arms with slight disorientation, though that didn’t stop her. Instead, her knee connected quite sharply with the frame of the door as she hurried to the aid of her children. Opening the door to the nursery that Nick had created, she fumbled momentarily for a soft lighting. Then, turning upon the beds, she sighed softly when she noted that Isabella had yanked herself up by the railing of the crib, sobbing hysterically, and Benjamin was sitting in the center of his bed, clinging tightly to his favorite stuffed animal - a terribly shabby frog. “What’s the matter with my Dizzy-Izzy?”
“Mama,” Isabella whined, shifting her weight from one chubby foot to the other, extending a small hand outward in attempts to grab her mother. “Up!”
“Okay, my beautiful Belle,” Grace consented, leaning down to scoop the youngster from her crib without any complaint. Immediately, the sobs ceased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers, muffled when Isabella buried her face into the crook of Grace’s neck. It was disturbing to say the least, because Isabella had always been such an easygoing child. Even as an infant, if she were hungry, she would simply chew on her hands and babble for attention. “Oh, Sweetheart…”
“Mommy, c’mere too?” Benjamin inquired hopefully within the dimly lit room, obviously seeking the nurturing that his sister was benefiting from.
“Guess it ain’t too much fun having a noisy sister in your bedroom when you’re having good dreams, huh, Benji?” Grace asked in return, easily climbing into the bed with her son. Shifting Isabella into one arm, it gave her an opportunity to bring Benjamin into the opposite arm for snuggles. Watching Benjamin pitch the stuffed animal to the floor in haste before wrapping his arms about her, Grace realized that Nick was waiting within the threshold of the room, simply observing. The raggedy stuffed animal had been a gift for Benjamin when he was born; an animal that Benjamin had refused to part with because it was a gift from Nick. Sighing softly at the contempt that Benjamin brewed for Nick, she pressed soft kisses to his face. “Why are you throwing Wart to the ground? He’s your favorite buddy--”
“No want’em,” Benjamin explained with a scowl in Nick’s direction.
“He’s such a hard-ass,” Nick fumbled to explain with a helpless shrug of his shoulders, not exactly understanding why Benjamin had been so against him in the first place. It was a painful experience to overcome, not that Nick had done so yet. After all, Benjamin had been his first godchild and there was a special bond between them that he hoped couldn’t be severed. Of course, looking to the mangled stuffed animal on the floor, he realized that Benjamin had torn their relationship to shreds.
Looking up at Nick’s forlorn expression, Grace sighed, “Nick, he just--”
“’Icky,” Isabella hiccupped, reaching out with one chubby hand to draw Nick into the family’s embrace. Her dark emerald eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and Nick couldn’t resist. Sinking onto the bed with the family, he smiled when she reached to hold his hand. “My ‘Icky. ‘Ing? Mama? ‘Ing?”
“So, that’s what you wanted?” Grace sighed, nuzzling her nose into Isabella’s curls. “You want Nicky to sing you a song?”
“Mommy, you sing too,” Benjamin asked softly, threading his small fingers with hers to play with the wedding band and engagement ring that she still wore as tribute to his father. “Sing that new song Izzy likes.”
“What song is that?” Nick murmured toward Grace in confusion.
“Oh, you’ll follow along easy enough,” Grace promised, wrapping her arms about the children to hold them close. Rocking them in a slow motion, she smiled when Isabella squirmed to rest upon her mother’s chest. Humming a few bars to find the key she wanted, she shyly began to sing, realizing it had been awhile since she had done so. “Close your eyes, make a wish, / That this could last forever. / So tell me what it is / That keeps us from each other now. / Yeah, it’s coming to get me. / You’re under my skin.”
When Grace lifted her head and looked to him expectantly, he was actually lost, surprised to hear that Isabella’s new favorite song was from the album Never Gone. Then, thinking about it for a moment, Nick grinned at the irony of it all. Climbing the Walls - How appropriate-
“’Icky,” Isabella hiccupped, reaching to yank on his t-shirt.
“Sorry,” he instantly apologized, leaning close to smack a kiss to her teary cheek. “Where were we? Oh…” Clearing his throat, he picked up where his childhood love had ended and felt a shiver rip through him when she joined to create a sweet harmony. When they were youngsters, they had always performed duets. In fact, Nick had promised that they would become famous together. Of course, things had changed, but he was comforted by the sweet melody of Grace’s voice. She was a beautiful singer. “No, I can’t let you go. / You’re a part of me now. / Caught by the taste of your kiss. / And I don’t want to know / The reason why / I can’t stay forever like this. / Now, I’m climbing the walls, ‘cause I miss you.”
Watching Benjamin’s eyes easily begin to droop with exhaustion, Nick continued with the verse that was usually reserved for Brian in their concerts. And, like many times before when he thought of Grace during a performance, the words began to take hold of his heart. “Take my hand, take my life. / Just don’t take forever. / And, let me feel your pain kept inside. / There’s got to be a way, / For you and I together now. / Yeah, it’s coming to get me. / You’re under my skin…”
Joining the chorus with Nick, Grace was surprised to find the ease she felt singing with him again, though she hadn’t the strength to look into his crystal blue eyes. Instead, she carefully tucked Benjamin back into bed before cradling Isabella to her chest and standing. Slowly rocking back and forth, feeling the soft even breath of her daughter and knew that she was sleeping. Thankful that the soothing had been easier than before, she moved back to the crib. “It’s an illusion. / How can I feel this way? / If I can’t have you… / It’s an illusion. / Nothing is real this way, / If I can’t have you…”
Carefully standing from the bed, Nick moved toward the crib to see Grace easily lower Isabella onto the mattress. Carrying the note with a soft vibrato, she tucked the blankets around her youngest. Smiling, he said not a word as he took her upper arm within his hand to lead her from the peaceful nursery. She was born to be a mother, among other things, her talents never seemed to cease. “I’ve always loved hearing you sing.”
“Yeah? Guess that’s why you forced me to join choir, huh?” Grace mused with a soft smile, slowly walking down the hallway with Nick at her side. “You’d be one of four… Well, three now… Those two demand nightly shows, y’know? Logan always used to tease me, saying that if I’d charge them a clean room for a song I’d make out better than having a maid. He’d always watch at night anyway. I should have charged him…”
“Gracie…”
“You two never got along very well,” Grace suddenly sighed, leaning against the wall when they reached her room at the realization. She didn’t want to step into the darkness again and drown within the painful sorrows of her reality. Folding her arms beneath her breasts, she looked to her best friend with a sorrowful smile. “Logan was going to thank you for singing at the wedding and getting the guys to help as well. He was so appreciative, but he wasn’t exactly in the mindset to--”
“I really don’t need to hear about his desire to deflower you on the honeymoon, Gracie,” Nick groaned, leaning his side against the wall as well to face her.
“He didn’t deflower me, Nicky, unless you think I became a born-again virgin after our fumbling.”
“Hey, don’t call it fumbling! That was the best day of my life!”
“And I’m sure your mother appreciated it when you came down with the soaked sheets asking how to get spunk out.”
Nick’s dark sapphire eyes widened in horror when she recalled that memory, instantly bringing her into a headlock to ruffle her golden curls as means to teach her a lesson and avoid the accusation of a blush. “Hey! The look on her face was priceless!”
“As was the hour lecture we got about how if I got pregnant I was on my own because you had a future!” Grace grunted, wrapping her arms about his waist. Pushing forward, she drove him into his dark bedroom, muffling a squeal when they toppled onto the bed.
“My mother was a bitch; what can I say?”
“Just justifying it will do,” Grace laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Though, in her shift to climb up his body, her lips connected with the soft corner of his mouth. The warmth of his mouth against hers sent a flood of purposely forgotten feelings rushing back; the familiar taste of him that haunted her. Feeling his entire body tense beneath her, she pulled back slightly, realizing that he was watching her intently. The dark sapphire orbs seemed to burn into the depths of her soul, pleading for just another taste of her. “…Do you mind if I stay in your room tonight? I hate being alone…”
“I…Yeah…Stay…” Nick fumbled in a response, unknowingly curving his arms about her waist to hold her close. As horrible as he felt inside for thinking it, he wanted her. He had wanted her from the very beginning and the death of her husband, no matter how tragic, had given him hope of a rekindling. If only she consented.
“Nicky…” Grace coaxed softly, crawling up his body as she carefully straddled his hips. She could sense the dismay in his heart and the overwhelming guilt he felt over the situation. But it was not his fault. There was something cosmic between them that was unavoidable. Melting her body over his, she tangled her fingers within his platinum highlighted locks, their lips seemingly a hairsbreadth apart. And, before she could convince herself otherwise, she covered his lips with hers in a delicate brush. Fueled by the soft moan released from his lips, she smiled. Then, despite her better judgment, she captured his lips against hers, succumbing to the pooling heat in the pit of her stomach. She loved him.