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Meg for no reason. During Mass, Grace had heard precious little
of anything that was said. She and Meg had kept sneaking each
other shy looks, and whenever they both stood up, Meg would
curl her hand around the smooth wood of the pew in front of
her and press firmly against the side of Grace s hand. Grace s
heart thumped like a hammer in her throat what if someone
saw them? but she didn t once move her hand away. She felt
as though some electrical current were running back and forth
between them and she didn t dare short-circuit it.
Benediction 77
In the diner, Grace looked cursorily at the menu; there was
no time to waste. She was expected home soon, to tackle all the
studying for midterms she had left untended all weekend. She
had no idea how she d get through it all. She was hopelessly
preoccupied with the events of last night: What should they call
what they had done? Would it happen again? Did she want it
to? Did Meg? What did it mean that it had been so amazingly
terrific to kiss Meg, nothing like it was to kiss Glen? Was this
something she could be confessing, or rejoicing about? Would
her mother be able to tell something had changed? When the
waitress strolled over, both girls ordered hurriedly.
I ve been thinking, Grace said.
Thank God somebody has, Meg said, smiling broadly and
twirling her new ring round and round on her finger.
What does that mean? Grace asked, her chest tightening.
Just a joke. Don t get paranoid on me, Meg said, reaching
across the table for Grace s hand, but then quickly withdrawing
it. They both began to giggle uncontrollably.
The waitress came over with Meg s coffee and Grace s glass
of milk. She paused to smile. Boy talk huh? she said, her hands,
mock-reproachful, on her hips. This started a fresh fit of laughter.
The waitress shook her head and walked away.
Suddenly Grace was sober. No really, I ve been thinking this
over and it really makes perfect sense.
Uh huh, Meg said, slurping coffee out of the too-full mug.
What I think is, she said, crouching over the tabletop to
whisper, what we did was just I mean, what happened was like,
the physical expression, you know, of what we feel for each other
emotionally.
Oh, obviously, Meg said. I mean, it wasn t like we spotted
each other on the street the day before or something and I
thought, my God, I just gotta kiss this chick.
Fresh peals of laughter started again, and by the time they
died out in painful sighs, the corners of Grace s eyes were wet.
Right, exactly, she said. I mean, to most people, it would seem
pretty weird.
If I d never been hot for a guy in my life before, maybe it d
78 Diane Salvatore
seem weird to me, too.
Exactly, Grace said. To put it mildly.
Exactly.
But what we have is no ordinary friendship, Meg said.
What we have is Meg turned to look out the window at
passing traffic power. Together, we have power.
Grace swallowed hard and nodded solemnly. When her
English muffin and Meg s scrambled eggs came, her courage
completely left her, though all her questions remained. She
didn t dare risk raising them. For Meg, it seemed, the issue was
clearly resolved, probably not to be brought up again. It was
crazy, anyway, just crazy. Already, the world was returning to its
normal proportions. Homework would still loom, Glen would
still pressure her, she and her mother would still fight. Whatever
window she had passed through last night when for those few
tantalizing hours all the old rules had been suspended, all the old
definitions ignored had been firmly shut again. She was partly
grateful and contented. She bit into her muffin with the hunger
of the newly absolved. It was easier to believe nothing really had
changed.
The smell of cauliflower and turkey necks boiling on the stove
floated through the house like a rich incense as Grace lay curled
on the couch, taking stock of her Christmas presents. On the
floor lay a few pieces of balled-up wrapping paper and crushed
bows that had escaped her mother s careful eye as she tried to
clean up everything in the wake of the morning spent tearing
open gifts. Her father had given her mother a plush royal-blue
robe with a fifty-dollar bill in each pocket; her mother had given
him an assortment of matching shirts, ties and socks. Grace s
grandmother had gotten perfumed powders, slips, and a string of
good imitation pearls that she would no doubt put away and save
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