Saving Gracie Part 39

Flipping through the green folder, Mary read, "A-C-G-I-P."

Maggie winced. "Yes, well, I'll translate that back to a.s.sist, comfort, guard, intercede and protect."

"One moment," Mary interrupted. "There's a notation here from Angela." Mary read, "'Important to reiterate 'c' stands for com-fort. Very important, Angela says here."

Quinlan shrugged as if not having a clue what Angela referenced.

Mary and George exchanged nods, which implied they did, which made Quinlan a tad uncomfortable.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Maggie continued, "you can now perform all these tasks without making a return trip."

Mary took over. "You'll instinctively know how to use your CI card for a.s.sistance without having to acquire clearance. You've successfully severed yourself from your Earthly fears, phobias, anxieties and all negativity." Regaining her regal-ness, she smiled her warm smile. "And this includes your issue with heights. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Quinlan said.

Eyes turned to George, who had said little. He opened the silver laptop and punched keys.

"Gather around, will you?" His gravelly voice boomed around the room.

The three women jumped and quickly moved behind his chair. The streamed video showed Grace in an office signing to a young boy. The nameplate on her desk read: Grace Brookfield, LMSW Communities in Schools "What is this?" Quinlan asked. Only days ago Gracie was going to her Monday-Wednesday cla.s.ses and volunteering on Thursdays.

"Grace's probable future," George said. "It all depends on her personal choices, of course, but my sources say this is accurate. She'll receive her master's degree, and her licensure in social work will place her as a much-needed advocate for the deaf community."

Quinlan's eyes glistened, her heart filled with admiration and love. "And Hannah and Josh?"

"They'll have the normal challenges of growing and maturing with a few b.u.mps along the way," George said. "But you'll be able to watch the process and a.s.sist when need be."

"What about the little deaf girl?" Quinlan recalled Gracie's deep concern for the child's welfare. "What happens to her?"

George hit a function key which produced a text box. He typed C-H-E-R-R-Y. The screen presented a written synopsis of the young girl's life.

Cherry will be adopted by her foster parents. After her high school graduation, she will receive a scholarship to Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., a university internationally known for specializing in advanced education for the deaf, hearing-impaired and hearing student.

Cherry and Grace maintain their close relationship. Cherry will forever consider Grace a pivotal person in not only her personal, but professional life.

Quinlan blinked tears, her heart about to burst. "I can't...I don't...." She pulled out a Kleenex and wiped her eyes.

"As I said," George noted, "this future depends on personal choices."

Quinlan nodded, straightened her back and breathed deeply.

"George, are we finished here?" Mary asked.

The Mr. Potato Head look-alike turned to Quinlan. "Unless you have questions for us?"

"Actually I do." Quinlan stuffed the Kleenex back in her pocket. "What about those...." she paused and cleared her throat, "who don't seem like...they belong here?" She glanced around the table, wondering if she was totally out of line.

"You're referring to your mother." The words marched out of George's mouth without a hint of the reference being a question.

Quinlan nodded.

"Maggie?" George tipped his oversized head to Maggie.

"Well, luv," Maggie began, "remember the Veils of Self-Deception procedure?"

Quinlan repeated the nod.

"As I told you then, once the veils are lifted one gets to see the areas that...how should I say this?" Maggie searched the ceiling. "Sucked." She smiled. "Some need more work in...certain areas. a.s.sessments are completed and reviewed. There are always choices to be made and plenty of fortuitous growth opportunities. Some are quicker learners than others."

Quinlan immediately wondered if she possibly fit into that category. She'd have to mentally file Maggie's infomercial away for further study.

"Anything else?" The half-moon squiggly smile on George's face looked like it had been drawn on by a kindergartener with a fat crayon.

"Just one last thing," Quinlan said. "Everything I was given for the trip was blue. What was that about?"

George looked to Mary. "Want to take this one?"

"Ah yes, that's right. We have yet to explain the reasoning behind the cobalt blue." Mary put her arm around Quinlan's shoulder. "Because you were still-" Mary paused, "vulnerable, shall we say-you needed special protection. All the items you were given were cobalt because they emitted an ultraviolet sensor light."

"I don't understand," Quinlan said.

"You were a b.l.o.o.d.y mess, luv," Maggie chimed in. She had such a way with words. "It kept any more negativity from globbing onto what you were already lugging around." Maggie's English accent smoothed out the interjection a bit. "Just till you worked through...well, you know. Everything you were given protected you like a fluffy blue cloud."

"And the gla.s.ses?" Quinlan looked at Mary.

Mary raised her eyebrows and motioned to Maggie.

"Uh, the gla.s.ses, yes. Protection for the eyes was very important," Maggie said. "They're the windows to the soul, you know."

"But I felt like a glittery Catwoman." Quinlan's face portrayed her distaste.

Maggie rubbed her chin. "I was going for Endora, but now that you mention it, I can see Catwoman."

"And the glitter?" Quinlan asked.

"Bling, luvvy. Bling." Maggie's eyes lit with an inner twinkle. "Thought I'd brighten things up a bit."

"So, I'm okay now? I don't need any of the blue things anymore?" Quinlan asked.

"Everything has been de-activated, my dear," Mary said.

"Even your eyegla.s.ses," Maggie added. "Won't be able to see a b.l.o.o.d.y thing with them."

"Your frequency level is up to where it should be," Mary said, "and all is, shall we say...in divine order."

Maggie took hold of Quinlan's elbow. "I'll escort you out." They left the Green Room and headed toward the outside seating area where Meghan sipped a cup of tea.

"Good work, luv." Maggie gave Quinlan a hug. "Now, go enjoy yourself."

Mary gathered the papers from the table and slipped them into the green folder. She kept her eyes on George. "There's something else, isn't there?"

George raised his puppy dog eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." He proceeded to shut down the laptop.

Mary sat next to him. "Come on," she urged. "You can tell me."

George took his time sliding the laptop into its leather carrying case. "Some need a little help finding themselves, that's all." He pulled the zipper around the edges of the satchel. "Doesn't matter how, just so they do."

Mary regarded George. "You're holding something back. I can tell by that silly look on your face."

George paused a brief second. "Grace's husband returned from Beijing this morning." He sat back in his chair and ran a hand over the top of the cane by his side. "Things happened to fall in place for him quicker than expected."

"Really." Mary's surprise was obvious. "And how did you happen to manage that?" She rose and headed to the door.

"I have my ways," he said.

"You didn't say anything to Quinlan."

"She'll find out soon enough."

Her hand on the door handle, Mary stopped and turned. "Now, wa-it a minute." Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't have anything to do with him going to Beijing in the first place, did you?"

George stood and reached for his cane and baseball cap. He smushed the hat on his head, forcing his ears outward. He looked like Yoda playing short-stop.

Mary pointed a knowing finger at him. "Or what about Quinlan's notebook mysteriously showing up after she'd destroyed it?"

The mischievous crooked smile outlined his worn face. "Madam, I don't know what you're talking about."

CHAPTER 46.

QUINLAN.

Before Quinlan could order herself a cup of tea, Meghan raised her hand. "I've taken care of this." She motioned to the waiter, who brought a bottle of champagne and two stemmed gla.s.ses to their table. He poured the liquid-gold bubbly then took a step back.

Meghan raised her gla.s.s. "Time for that clinking thing, as Gracie would say."

Quinlan smiled. "I think it's time to call her Grace."

Meghan nodded approval. "To Grace and peaceful days." They raised their gla.s.ses.

The waiter stepped forward. "Excuse me. There's more."

Quinlan turned to Meghan. "What else have you done?"

Meghan shrugged.

The waiter motioned over his shoulder and two additional wait staff members appeared, each carrying large oval trays laden with every pastry on the menu. They placed the delectables around the table.

"What? We didn't order this," Quinlan said.

Meghan's eyes lit like Fourth of July sparklers.

"We couldn't possibly...."

"If I may?" The waiter handed Quinlan a small white envelope from his coat pocket.

She read the short message, a smile crossing her face. "The woman's crazy." She handed the note to Meghan.

To one who almost drove me crazy...

But who most always made me laugh.

My compliments to you- Angela Meghan tossed the note aside and grabbed her fork. "Gotta say, it helps to know people in high places."

"We'll have to diet next week, you know." Quinlan sipped her champagne.

Meghan shrugged and started with the rum raisin bread pudding. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"About what?" Quinlan reached her fork over and swiped a bite of bread pudding off Meghan's plate.

"Remember when Ghost played on your television and you kept trying to hit mute?"

Quinlan stopped, fork in mid-air.

"He's stuck, that's what it is. He's in between worlds," Meghan said.

"You don't have to go back to find out how to use mediums. I told you before you left there's a lot to learn here." Meghan pulled another pastry selection in front of her. "Guess you had to go through it your own way."

"Okay, here's the deal."

Recognizing Ruby's gruff voice, Quinlan turned.

"You got questions, you call me. Got it?" The plus-size woman instructed through Juicy Fruit chomps.

Quinlan watched Ruby walk along the sidewalk in front of the cafe with a young man who looked like he'd exited the womb pumping iron.

Spotting the women, Ruby lifted her arm in a salute. "Keep walking, I'll catch up in a minute." She backtracked a few steps and used her hand to cover her words. "Bowling champ," she beamed, "and a lefty." She gave the women a thumbs-up, pushed signature blue-tinted gla.s.ses up on her nose, and scrambled to catch up with her new a.s.signment.

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