Author's Ramblings: Glad to see you're back. This chapter takes up right after the last; Luke has just followed Grace out of Joan's apartment.

Chapter 14

Luke sprinted down the hallway, determined to reach Grace. He didn't know why it was so important, but he knew he had to see her. He had to.

Grace stabbed the elevator button again. She tapped her foot. She jiggled her purse.

Luke skidded to a halt when he reached the elevators. Thank God, he thought. She was still there. Without thinking, Luke strode up to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Grace hadn't noticed he was there. She nearly yelled in surprise when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She controlled herself, though, and after a quick glance at his face, returned to watching the elevator door.

They stood in silence for a few moments. The elevator door opened and an older woman stepped out. They stepped aside and let her pass, then walked into the elevator.

Luke pressed the 'G' and the doors closed. As soon as the elevator started moving, Luke turned his attention to Grace. She squirmed for a moment, and was thankful they had the elevator to themselves.

"So," Grace said after going down one floor, "you're not a fan of Cakebread, are you?"

"Well," Luke answered lightly, "I'm not a fan of their red wine, but their chardonnays are divine."

"Are they?"

Luke nodded solemnly.

"You've never had a bottle of Cakebread in your life, have you, geek?"

"Do you really think I have that kind of money?"

"Yeah, I couldn't afford it, either."

"It's expensive wine," Luke agreed. The door opened and they both walked out into the lobby. Grace was about to step outside when Luke grabbed her elbow.

"Grace, please, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Grace stared at him. What the hell, she figured, it couldn't hurt. She nodded, and he smiled.

"Let's go get a cup of coffee," he suggested.

Grace nodded again.

"Good," Luke smiled. "Now, do you know where the nearest coffee house is?"

"Just down the block," Grace said. "It's where Joan and Joe met."

"How romantic."

They reached the coffee house quickly. After ordering their drinks, they settled into some cushy seats by the fake fireplace.

"How was California?" Grace asked. "Meet any hippies?"

"Can't say that I did. Of course, hippies tend to avoid science labs, so the state might be full of them, and I have no idea."

Luke took her smile as an invitation to continue. As he talked about his life California, Grace found herself distracted. She was feeling very safe. It was odd, and would have been disturbing if it didn't feel so good.

Grace wondered how long Luke would be staying in town. Maybe he was moving back, too? That would be nice. That's all, though. It would simply be nice. It's not like Luke's presence would have an actual impact on her life or anything. Really, she could care less where he lived.

So, alright, yes, sometimes it would be nice he lived nearby. Grace could admit that. She could admit that she kind of liked the guy, even if he did know too much for his own good.

Hell, she could even admit that she trusted him in a way she had never even trusted her parents.

I trust him, she thought to herself. Grace completely ignored the happy bubble in her chest. It was of no importance.

Logic kicked in when Luke started talking about the friends he had made at the lab. Trust him she might, but did she know him? Did he know her?

No.

That was a problem, Grace realized, that could only be fixed with time.

Really, the whole thing was a mess. Grace simply did not understand why she liked this boy so much.

Wait just one second. Grace studied him quickly and made a correction. She did not understand why she liked this man so much. He certainly had grown up nicely.

Grace suddenly noticed that he had stopped talking. She hoped he hadn't noticed her complete disregard of his words. That could lead to awkward questions she had no intention of answering.

"Your turn, Grace," he said.

"My turn?"

"Yeah, it's your turn to talk about your life." He looked at her expectantly. "How are you?"

Grace knew, right then, that her answer would affect the rest of her life. She didn't understand why she knew this, but she accepted it. This was her turning point.

Now, which way to turn?

She needed a moment to think. She needed to understand.

Grace took a drink of coffee.

Answer One: She tells Luke the truth. She tells that she'd been in Arcadia a few months, works at the bookstore and meets up with Joan sometimes. She tells him that she long ago gave up being angry at her dad, and now enjoys a fairly good relationship with him. Luke smiles sadly, completely aware she is hiding something, but says nothing. They chat a little, he leaves, and Grace continues her with her life. No risk, no reward.

Answer Two: She tells Luke the real truth. She tells him that moving to Arcadia took every once of her courage. She tells him that, though she tries again and again, she just can't give up drinking. She risks the look of horror on his face, the sadness that would overtake him, and admits to her addiction. Maybe Luke offers helps. Huge risks, unknown rewards. Scary as hell.

Grace set her coffee cup down slowly. This was her moment. This was when she decided what path to follow. She could follow in her mother's footsteps, or she could follow her own path. Cheesy, yes, but there you have it.

She looked up at Luke. He'd been oddly patient while she prepared her answer. Grace took a shuddering breath and told him the truth.

"I got drunk last night, Luke. I get drunk a lot. I don't know why, and I can't stop it."

The whole truth. She told him the whole damn truth.

Luke stared at her. His eyes were just as piercing as they used to be, she noted. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes bore into her. It was intense, and Grace fought to maintain eye contact. She would not let him stare her down. She may be a drunk, but she had her pride.

"You can stop, Grace," he finally said. He stretched out a hand and Grace surprised him by grabbing it. He glanced down at their hands.

"I've tried," Grace said. "I've tried so many times."

"No, you haven't. When you try, you succeed. You haven't tried."

"You bastard," Grace hissed, snatching her hand back, "I'm always trying. I try when I'm going to work with a headache. I try when I walk past the liquor in the grocery store. I try every February, when I remember when… when she died. I moved back to Arcadia so I could try. I went to AA meetings, told my secrets to a room full of freaks. Don't give me this bullshit about not trying."

"Grace," he said evenly, "you are stronger than this. If you wanted to quit, you would."

"It's not a choice, Girardi. It's a sickness."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Pick up a damn psych book."

"So, why are you telling me, then?" he asked. "You want a 'get well' card?"

"I want to go to work without a hangover."

"Then stop buying tequila."

Grace was going to kill him. She was going to smash his head in with the hideous lamp on her left. And she would enjoy, too. The heartless idiot.

"Oh, Grace," he said suddenly, "I'm so sorry."

He hugged her and she cried into his shoulder.

It was a short cry. His shirt was barely damp when she gave a loud sniff, shook her head quickly and pulled away. Luke tensed for a moment, and tried to hold on, but he let her move back.

They sat stiffly in their chairs, not touching and only risking the quickest of glances. Finally, Luke broke the silence.

"Do you want to quit?"

Grace threw him a dirty look and nodded.

"Alright then," he nodded.

"Then what, Girardi?"

"Then quit," he said simply.

"I already told you; it's not that easy. I can't go more than three or four days without it."

"You're half-way there, Grace," Luke said with a smile. "If you were truly addicted, you wouldn't be able to go more than a day."

"What do you know about it?" she asked.

"I saw you with Alex, Grace. Joan told me she was worried about you. You had so much alcohol last time I saw you. I put the pieces togethe, and then did some research. The internet is a wonderful thing."

"You mean you knew," she gasped. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Please, Grace," Luke scoffed. "How would you have taken it if I said anything?"

"I'd've hurt you," Grace said without hesitation.

"I thought so," Luke said with a smile. "And besides, I did try hinting at it. Remember, I said I would always be there for you?"

"Vividly."

The word hung there. In it, Grace had given away everything and they both knew it. She had admitted how much he meant to her, and how much she had missed him. She had admitted that she wanted him, needed him. She admitted she loved him.

"You never liked Dora, did you?" Luke asked happily.

"I don't want to talk about Dora," Grace snapped. What had possessed her to give so much away?

"Let's talk about you, then," Luke said. "You want to quit drinking, yes?"

"Obviously."

"Excellent. I'll help you."

"How?"

"I'll be there for you. Always."

Grace didn't react.

"Next time you want to reach for a beer, call me," Luke ordered. "I don't care what time it is. Call me if you at all tempted."

"What will that do?" Grace asked.

"I'll distract you."

"How?"

"Well, it'll be harder if we're only on the phone. Perhaps if we were to get together in person—"

"I swear to God, Luke," Grace interrupted, "if you say anything regarding the biology closet, I will hurt you. Badly." She eyed the lamp again.

"Calm down, Grace. This is serious. I want you to call me."

"I don't understand how that will help."

"You don't have to," Luke insisted. "You just have to do it."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Promise me, Grace."

She nodded, he smiled and they moved on to happier topics.

Grace questioned Luke about his life, half-hoping he had some huge, dark secret to share so they could be even. Sadly, though, his life had been quite dull. After a few years of researching something Grace would never be able to pronounce or care about, Luke was ready to move on. He didn't know what he was going to move on to, exactly, but he had decided he wanted move somewhere with actual seasons. For a solid five minutes he complained about California's weather. According to Luke, two seasons existed in LA: too damn hot and mildly warm.

Grace liked it when he talked about such mundane things as the weather. It was comforting that they could sit and talk like this, without dwelling on the past few years. It gave Grace hope.

She clung to that hope when he mentioned moving back to Arcadia, and that's when she realized she wanted him in her life. She recognized that he made her happy. He didn't change her, or make her feel to girly or stupid; he just accepted her.

They talked for a long time. Luke went through two mochas and three chocolate chip cookies; Grace finished three cups of Americano coffee. All in all, it was a very expensive trip. Neither of them much cared.

When they finally got up to leave, Luke made Grace promise once again to call him whenever she felt tempted. She rolled her eyes, but swore to him she would. Luke wrote his cell phone number on a napkin, and Grace folded it carefully before putting it in her wallet.

My God, Grace thought as she walked out of the coffee house a few minutes later, that was the most introspective cup of coffee I've ever had.

xxxxx

xxxxx

Yay! Let's all cheer for Grace. We'll find out if she was successful in the next chapter.