Saving Grace

The scent of mint and lavender-scented laundry detergent made a surprisingly pleasant combination. It was unusually warm as I stayed in bed.

I frowned, refusing to open my eyes. I hoped that sleep would take me away and I would wake up in a cooler climate. Somewhere like Antarctica or Norway or Wisconsin. They had colder climates. Any place, with the exception of the Sahara Desert was better than this.

It wasn't until I felt a warm breath spill over my face that I realized that it wasn't just an extremely hot Arizona day. I forced my puffy eyes open to see John sleeping with me in his arms. I forced my stiff fingers to unclench John's shirt before I carefully slipped from his embrace. I stumbled over a suitcase as I cautiously backed away from the bed.

Thankfully, I caught my balance before I took a tumble backward. After I was positive that John was still sleeping, I tip-toed out of his bedroom where I made myself a pot of coffee. Of course, it was for everyone; I wasn't that desperately in need of a caffeine fix.

I leaned against the counter after I poured myself a cup of the steaming, dark liquid and took small sips. I felt my once tense muscles start relaxing as the warm coffee soothed my raw throat.

I studied the room, the previous day's newspaper rested easily on the breakfast table beside the vase of light pink and white daisies. That particular bouquet looked suitable to give to someone who had just given birth to a baby girl in my opinion but then again, I was never the best person to choose which types of flowers were appropriate for occasions. I wasn't even going to bring up my idea of home decor; I failed miserably in that area.

The rising sun sent streaks of gold and pink through the horizon outside the window as I pulled myself up to sit on the counter. I took a sip from my coffee cup as the neighbors' sprinkler began spraying water droplets across the small patch of lawn spread before the peach-colored house. A kid, looking a few years younger than Shane, rode by on his bike, tossing newspapers at the front doors of houses he passed.

"Poor kid," I mumbled upon seeing sweat starting to accumulate on his forehead.

"What?" John asked, his voice bouncing off the hard surfaces lining the kitchen and echoing through the silent home.

I jumped a little, though not bad enough for my coffee to splash out of the ceramic cup in my grip. "Poor kid," I repeated nodding out the window.

His eyes flickered out the window and fell over the kid. His eyes showed understanding before they traveled back to meet mine.

I averted my attention to the coffee unnecessarily warming my hands as I took a cautious sip. The steam being emitted by the hot drink hit my face, creating a light, unintentional blush.

He walked around the island counter and pulled himself up on it to sit across from me. "So... About last night-"

"Just forget about that," I said, interrupting him. I slid from the counter-top and crossed the tiny gap between the counters. "Better get ready O'Callaghan," I said, patting his knee as I passed him. "We're going shopping for your mother," I said coolly, tugging the grocery list from the refrigerator door.

Before he had the chance to protest, I made my way back to the foyer where I climbed the stairs and retreated back to John's bedroom to make my appearance more suitable for public viewing.

-----

I glanced down to the list once again, pulling the shopping cart behind me as John pushed it. "I don't think I can just forget about last night," John said as I opened one of the large coolers lining the wall and pulled out a gallon of milk.

"You can and you will," I replied as I turned and place one of the last items on the list into the cart careful not squish anything.

"Demanding, aren't we?" John asked I searched the rather large super market for the one thing that I wanted.

"No, I'm simply on a mission right now and you're distracting me," I said as I glanced down aisles as we walked by them.

I stopped, a victorious smile finding it's way onto my side as I stumbled across what I wanted. "Seriously, Amelia?" John asked as I plucked a jar of salsa off of the shelf.

I turned to him. "I like this, John. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked batting my eyelashes at him.

"No, I only have a problem if you don't share again."

I studied his green orbs before sighing and nodding that I would share, though I really didn't want to. I think I needed to suck up to him a little. He was, after all, bound to talk to Nick eventually. Hopefully, if he had any sense in that head of his, he would "forget" to mention that I bawled like a baby over our break-up.

"Why are you still here Amelia?" John suddenly asked.

I turned to him, my eyebrow cocked. "I can leave. J-Just bring me home and I'll pack my things up."

"No!" he interrupted. "You're still welcome here but what I mean is, why did you stick around if you broke up with Nick? I mean, you easily could have left. The only reason you really came was for Nick, because my family is his family."

"Who says I came just for Nick?" I asked, turning and stopping in front of the shopping cart, forcing him to stop.

"I just assumed-"

"You assumed wrong," I cut in. "I came because you two jackasses managed to pull this injured-puppy dog look off quite well. Plus, I owed it to you. In the time we've known each other, you were nothing but polite to me," I said before turning and walking toward the cash registers.

"What are you doing?" John asked as I pulled out my check book when we were given the total.

I studied him. "Buying the groceries."

"I'm buying them," he said, his voice stern.

I raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. I picked up the pen that was set out to be used and quickly wrote in the amount owed, knowing that John would be forced to let me pay. I smiled, sticking out my tongue at him before filling out the rest.

"You know, that's not going to stop me," he said. "I'll write you a check for the same amount."

"And I'll tear it up, John," I replied, my voice sing-songy. It must have surprised John, the way I had just said that statement, because he studied me for a long moment. I had to admit, it surprised me too. I never hummed in front of people much less sang.

I felt my cheeks flush as I tore the slip of paper out and handed it to the cashier.

"Have a nice day," the tired, bored-looking teenager replied from behind the counter, handing over the receipt.

"You too," I said back, flashing her a small smile before John and I brought the paper bags out to his car.

"I'm serious, Amelia. I can't allow you to buy all this," John said as we tucked the last of the bags into the trunk of his vehicle.

"You'll have to find a way to live with it," I replied before walking to the passenger side.

"Do you enjoy making things difficult?" he asked after slipping behind the wheel.

I was about to reply but a familiar figure caught my attention.

Marissa walked by, oblivious to our presence as she made her way toward the store. John followed my gaze and frowned upon seeing her darkened eye. "What happened to her?" he asked.

I gaped at him. "You don't remember what happened?" I asked. I sighed, bringing the heel of my hand to my forehead. "That should have been obvious," I muttered to myself, feeling idiotic for asking such a stupid question. "Linnely punched her."

"Linnely did what!?"

"Linnely punched her at the party. You laughed. No one told you?"

"No, no one told me!" he cried, his eyes finding their way back to Marissa.

It hit me like a strike of lightening hitting metal: John still liked her.

He still had feelings for Marissa Hadley and oddly enough, I was feeling a little pang of jealousy.