Disclaimer: All original characters are mine.
Author's Note: Forgive me if the ages and dates of some of the characters do not seem to gel just right. Math was never my strongest subject. Just use your imagination - that's why this is called FICTION. I did the best I could in the long run as far as dates and ages goes. As for other things that may be fuzzy - patience - it will make sense. Hope you enjoy.
CHAPTER 2
"Why didn't you say something?"
Jimmy looked at his son. "I did. I told you not to go there. You know how Bosco is with his daughters."
Yes, everyone knew how Officer Maurice Boscorelli was with his daughters. Actually, all the women in his life. Protective was a mild description for starters.
Watching Grace across the room, he knew why. This couldn't be the same little girl with unmanageable curls that he enjoyed teasing so much when they were younger. The little girl had grown into a beautiful woman. How long had it been? He hadn't paid much attention once he turned sixteen when his mother would mention the Boscorelli or Davis kids. How old was she now anyway? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? He watched her toss her long locks back over a shoulder and swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.
Jimmy watched his son. He knew if Joe insisted on pursuing Grace Boscorelli he would have to get past her father. Everyone knew if you wanted to see a Boscorelli girl, any of the Boscorelli girls, you had to have their father's blessing.
"You think she remembers me?" Joe was asking.
Jimmy wondered where his son's somewhat intelligent brain was at the moment. "Son, you spent the biggest part of her childhood torturing her. I'd say the odds aren't in your favor."
Joe had the decency to look like he regretted all those times.
**************************************
"He's watching you."
Grace frowned at her sister. All she'd done since they moved into the kitchen of the firehouse was announce what Joey Doherty was doing. Personally, Grace didn't care. She just wanted him to go away. She'd caught him staring at her outside and hadn't cared for the attention. She hadn't thought Joey Doherty would still be around. All she knew was he had tortured her by his teasing when she was little; in general, making her life miserable when he was around.
Besides, the man was too handsome for his own good.
Belle, on the other hand, was planning her big sister's future. She saw the way Joey Doherty was watching Gracie. Oh, this was perfect. Maybe Joey could coax Gracie back into her old self. Her older sister hadn't always been so aloof - just in the last year or so. And now this sudden move back to the city.
Unlike herself, Gracie had chosen to attend college at their mother's alma mater in the Midwest - a small private university - and then she had stayed in the area for two years after graduating caring for an elderly relative. Two weeks ago, Gracie had called and said she was moving back home. She missed her family. Belle had her theories on what caused the sudden change. No one else seemed to notice the change in Grace, or if they did, said nothing but Belle had spent hours with her sister. Something had happened. She would just have to find a way to get the old Gracie back. And seeing the way Joe looked at Gracie -
"Taylor!" Belle's face lit at the sight of Taylor Davis, her best friend, her confidant, the love of her life, and she leapt to embrace him tightly, putting Gracie at the back of her mind for the moment. Even though it seemed the firehouse was a second home, it wasn't often that she got to see Taylor during one of his paramedic shifts.
Grace hoped the envy she felt didn't show on her face. She should be used to seeing Belle and Taylor together. Even though Belle was the elder by two months, they'd practically been attached since birth. But now, watching them together made her want to wallow in self pity.
"So," Taylor said, sitting at the table across from Grace. "How are the wide open spaces?"
Grace smiled at his description of her home for the last six years. "Wide, open and spacious."
"Sorry you came back?" he asked, stretching an arm across the back of Belle's chair.
Grace shrugged in response. There are things she would miss but her family was here. And life continued.
"TAYLOR!"
At the shout echoing in the stairwell, Grace sensed the mood in the room change as it quickly emptied leaving Taylor, Belle, Grace and Joey.
"JACKSON TAYLOR DAVIS!"
Grace looked to Belle for an explanation. That was a woman's voice calling her sister's boyfriend's name.
Belle was looking at Taylor, who was slowly rising from the chair he'd just taken, asking quietly, "What did you do?"
Before he answered, the voice sounded again from the stairwell door. Very calmly, very menacing, and very angry. "He forgot to drop off my bag."
Grace found the source of the voice and felt her breath leave her body. She was looking at a ghost.
"Livvie - " Taylor began, backing away from the young woman slowly stalking him. "I-"
Gracie blinked, catching her breath as Taylor's words registered. Olivia? Little Olivia Davis? Grace couldn't tear her gaze away from the irate blonde, dressed in workout clothes, hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating her high cheekbones and blue eyes. She looked just like her mother.
"Spooky, isn't it?"
Gracie turned to Joe, probably the only other person remaining in the room who remembered Olivia's mother besides herself. He caught the expression on her face and was leaning over her shoulder. At the moment, she was too stunned to mind he was invading her 'personal space'. "Yeah. For a minute, I thought -"
"I know," he said before continuing to the weight room.
Grace didn't need to ask for more detail; she knew.
Olivia Elizabeth Davis looked just like her mother. Alexandra Taylor- Davis, one of the few female firefighters in the history of the New York Fire Department - and sometimes paramedic - had been killed in a freak explosion while working as a paramedic. Taylor had been three and a half; Olivia had been twenty months. Her death had been so shocking, it had permanently impacted everyone from Ladder 55. Grace didn't know the details of her death; at six years old, she'd only known that Alex's funeral was different than the one for Mrs. Grayson just a short time before. Maybe it was because of those left to carry on: Ty, Taylor and Olivia.
She remembered MaMa, in her sadness, had told her that Alex had completed what she was put on the earth to do and God had called her home. After that, MaMa had spent a lot of time with Ty, Taylor and Olivia and Beth Taylor, Taylor and Olivia's grandma and then Taylor and Olivia had come to live with the Boscorelli family for a while in the huge, historical home they had inherited from Mrs. Grayson and had moved into just weeks before Alex left them.
Grace blinked the moisture from her eyes and brought herself back to the present. She hadn't thought about Alex in years. Seeing Olivia had brought back all her memories.
" 'Livia," Belle was saying in an attempt to calm Olivia's fury. She had placed herself between her boyfriend and his sister who looked as if she could bite nails in half.
"Don't even try to protect him, Belle," Olivia interrupted. "Do you know what was in that bag?"
"Your college applications that were mailed an hour ago?"
Olivia turned at the source of the statement - her father.
Sargent Ty Davis held his daughter's bag out to her. The years had been kind to the tall, handsome officer despite the tragedies he'd suffered - primarily, the loss of his wife sixteen years ago. Grace marveled at his strength. He had lost his wife and devoted himself to raising their children. Grace wondered if he had ever considered remarrying. But then, to her knowledge, he had never dated since Alex's death.
"Thank you, Daddy," Olivia said, sweetness and smiles, as she took her bag from her father's outstretched hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss his smooth shaven cheek. Her temper seemed to have cooled significantly in the last ten seconds. "I'm gonna run upstairs and change."
Ty watched his daughter bound up the stairs. The same stairs her mother used to run up. She was so much like her and yet so different. Where Alex was never one to use her femininity to make a point or prove something, Olivia didn't hesitate. However, Olivia was just as strong and independent as her mother, if not more so. Ty supposed he'd spoiled his daughter, she'd not even been two when Alex was taken from them, and as she got older and resembled Alex even more, well, - she was her mother's daughter - not only in appearance but in action. Even Alex's mother, Beth, remarked once that if it were not for Olivia's total disregard for anything remotely tomboyish, she'd swear she was seeing her daughter all over again.
"Dad," 'Taylor was saying, Belle at his side. "I didn't forget on purpose."
"I know, don't worry about it. You know your sister," Ty said, answering his son, his gaze moving around the room. "Grace! When did you get back?"
Grace stood to embrace him. "Daddy picked me up a couple of hours ago."
Hearing the click of high heels on the stairs, Ty's attention was drawn to the staircase. His daughter had returned. Gone were the workout clothes and ponytail; a blonde bombshell had taken her place. "Where do you think you're going?"
Olivia looked at her father as she came down the stairs.. "Kylie and I are going to dinner. I told you that earlier, remember?"
"Not dressed like that, you're not," Ty informed her. He was in denial that his little girl was growing up. And knowing what it was like to be a young man didn't care to have his baby drawing any male attention.
"Kylie?" Carlos asked, having wandered through and hearing his daughter's name. "My Kylie?"
"You know any other Kylies?" Olivia asked rudely before turning her attention back to her father. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
Ty looked at the dusty blue pants and top. Nothing was wrong with the outfit, exactly, except that the jersey knit fabric clung to her in all the places Ty would prefer nothing would cling to. He supposed she looked pretty damn good to some young stud but this was his baby. He was her father and supposed to protect her from that sort of scum. "Apologize to Carlos. As for your outfit - it's just - it's - Kim?"
Kim had entered the room moments before and witnessed the exchange between father and daughter. She had periodically stepped in the role of mother to Olivia after Alex's death but her experience didn't include raising daughters; many issues that had come up had been referred to Sophie, whose experience with girls far outweighed her own. "I thought she looked pretty cute."
Olivia beamed victoriously.
That was not the answer Ty was looking for. Thankful to see Sophie and the youngest Boscorelli, five-year old Hope, appear at the top of the stairs, he promptly enlisted her help only to be met with a second disappointment.
"Ty, there's nothing wrong with what she's wearing," Sophie said gently, dropping motherly kisses on her own daughters' cheeks before turning to Olivia, kissing her cheek and handing her a hair clip. To some degree, she had considered Olivia to be one of her own daughters since Alex's passing. "You should pull your hair up, dear."
Ty knew he'd lost as he watched his daughter pull the sides of her long blond curls up, securing it at the crown, leaving the rest to stream down her back. "Okay, but will you wear a jacket?"
"Daddy," Olivia said, tilting her head at him in a way that said 'I'm not a little girl anymore.' Turning to Carlos, she apologized for her earlier rude remark before descending the stairs.
Sophie watched Ty stare after her. "She's beautiful." Ty shook his head as if to clear it. "Thanks. Ya know, she's just - "
"-like her," Sophie finished softly, as she followed Ty into the main room to await the arrival of her husband. Neither had to elaborate on who 'her' was.
Feeling restless and a little like an outsider, Grace made her way downstairs. She saw Olivia staring at the case that held photographs of all those lost in the line of duty. "Olivia?"
"I always have to look when I'm here," she quietly explained. Her blue gaze was trained on the photograph of her mother in her formal fire uniform. The only woman pictured. "Do you remember her?"
"A little, yes," Grace answered. She couldn't imagine how Olivia must feel. She had her mother; Olivia had never known hers.
"What was she like?"
Grace felt odd being questioned about Alex. Olivia should be asking her father or Kim or Sophie or even her grandmother about her mother. And yet seeing mother in daughter, she could guess why Olivia hadn't asked any of those people about her mother. "She would always play with me; although sometimes I'm not sure she was comfortable playing dolls and tea parties. She was funny, and kind and -"
"And beautiful," Olivia interrupted dryly, turning her blue eyes to Grace. "I mean - oh - I don't know."
"You look like her," Grace said quietly. And she did. Olivia had the same clear blue eyes, blond curls and slim build. And the same 'You can't tell me what I can and cannot do' attitude that got her mother on the New York Fire Department.
"Yes, I know. I know every time I come here, every time Daddy looks at me, every time I'm at Grandma's. I look like my dead mother - the famous Alex Taylor." Olivia thrust out her chin defiantly. In the exact manner her mother used when her guard went up. Olivia's gaze met Grace's, continuing more calmly, "It's been almost sixteen years. Sometimes, I think I remember her - little snippets - blue eyes, slightly off-key singing. You know I don't even know how she died? Only that there was an explosion."
"I'm sure MaMa would tell you anything she could if you asked her," she suggested, feeling the need to try and soothe her young friend's mind.
Walking with Grace to the open garage door, Olivia saw Kylie getting out of a cab and waved. Although there were several years' age difference between the two young women, their shared interest in law more than made up for it. "There's Kylie; I gotta go. Thanks, Grace. It's good to have you back."
Looking around, Grace spied her brother leaning against one of the parked ambulances watching the traffic. And watching Olivia Davis cross the street to meet her friend. Was she seeing things? Jackson and Olivia? That's something she didn't expect. "Hey, little brother."
He straightened and averted his gaze at the sound of her voice. "Hey. Didn't know you were there."
She bit back a grin. "She's something."
Jackson didn't need to ask who she was talking about. "Yeah."
"Why don't you ask her out?" Grace suggested. Just because she had sworn off any romantic relationships, didn't mean she couldn't encourage others.
"She's not interested," Jackson answered.
"And you know this because -"
"Because I know," Jackson concluded.
Gracie resisted the urge to thump some sense into her baby brother's thick skull. Instead, she only stated. "You should ask her," as she saw her father pull up in his RMP across the street effectively cutting off any further discussion. It was unspoken in the family that arguments were always quickly resolved. Life was hard enough; disagreements only made it worse. If you couldn't let the issue go, then you secluded yourself until you calmed down enough to approach it reasonably.
Greeting her father, Gracie realized how much she had missed her family. And how fortunate she was to have their support. They didn't know it but it was the one thing that was getting her through this.
CHAPTER 3
Grace sat on the swing in the backyard of the Boscorelli home watching Taylor and Belle entertaining Hope. It was a given that they would marry one day. Tears welled up to blur her vision. Why did everything have to change? But then Gracie had never handled change very well. She felt lost.
She understood Aunt Millie moving in with her dear friends Beatrice and Esther. It would have happened when Jonathan proposed anyway.
If he had proposed.
Grace immediately put the brakes on that particular subject. No one except Aunt Millie had even known about Jonathan. Grace had never mentioned him to MaMa and Daddy. Knowing her father's protectiveness, she had thought to see exactly how far things progressed before introducing them. Which was fortunate for her. She didn't have to deal with the 'what happened' questions now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Hope's squeal at Sully's arrival.
Grace smiled a greeting for the man she and her siblings referred to as their 'New York Grandpa'.
At almost seventy, retired cop John Sullivan had been adopted by the Boscorelli and Davis families and was frequently included in family celebrations. This time was no different.
They were celebrating the prodigal daughter's return home. Although Gracie would have preferred to return to New York and resume her life quietly. Whatever that consisted of.
But MaMa insisted this little get together had been planned long before Gracie had announced the move and Gracie had known better than to argue with her mother over the fact that she'd now been home over a week with no hint of any long term party plans.
So here she was.
She wanted to excuse herself and retreat to her room but felt that burden that comes to everyone - responsibility. She had to stay. She was the guest of honor. Sort of.
Sully lowered himself next to her, muttering, "It's good to have you back, Gracie."
She smiled. Genuinely smiled at him. Her Grandpa Sully wouldn't be asking her twenty questions. He was one of the few people who could just sit in another's presence and not have the need to fill the silence.
Apart from MaMa and Daddy, that is, she thought to herself, amending, Before they had four children. And then decided to adopt the fifth.
She and Sully sat watching the guests arrive. Although she wasn't sure 'guests' was the right work to use. D.K., Walsh, Jimmy, Kim, Carlos, Faith, and the list went on - were pretty much considered extended family by Sophie and treated as such.
Her gaze wandered back to her siblings and what she termed as 'the younger generation' - those who hadn't been at the 55 for as long as she could remember but were friends of Belle, Taylor and Jackson. Gracie recognized a few but most were strangers to her. Even though this was and would always be home, she had spent the past six years away from here except for the few days she returned for holidays and short trips to visit. It was strange; this time of finding herself again.
Gracie glanced at Sully. He looked melancholy staring at different parts of the garden that surrounded him.
"You miss her, don't you" Grace wasn't sure why she felt compelled to ask what she already knew.
Sully's attention remained on the roses along the edge of the fence. He didn't need to ask who Gracie was referring to. He missed Elenor Grayson every day. She and Sully had been introduced at Bosco and Sophie's wedding and become very close friends after Ty and Alex had married. Oh, Ty was still his best friend but marriage and children tended to change a man even though Ty and Alex had always welcomed him into their home and he was considered 'Grandpa' to Taylor and Olivia and Sully had been there for Ty when Alex had been killed. But Elenor - Elenor was a stubborn, pushy, overbearing, loving and beautiful woman who'd also lost her husband quite some time before they met. They'd quickly formed a bond. He had been one of the few people who knew about her illness before she'd been homebound - too ill to go out much. "Yes, Gracie, I miss her."
Grace heard the sadness in his voice. "Did you love her?'
Sully smiled at the young woman. He wasn't surprised at her boldness. "Yes, I did."
"But you never married," Grace felt compelled to point out.
"No, we didn't," Sully felt the need to continue. It was rare that he discussed his personal life with anyone. "Elle and I never felt it was necessary. We loved each other, true, we just never thought about it. I don't know - maybe we were too set in our ways to consider marriage."
Gracie listened as he spoke, waiting for some nugget of wisdom.
"Grace, what happened?" He asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" She should have known. She knew very well what was going on. Anytime someone thought Grace was troubled, they called in Sully to talk to her.
He gave a short laugh. "What do I mean? Gracie, come on, it's me."
Gracie gave up. She never could act. Especially with Sully. "I'm just feeling a little lost, Sully. I'll be fine."
He didn't really think that was everything. He'd been a cop too long to ignore his instincts. But he knew not to push Grace. That usually resulted in her pulling further away, so he let it go. "Alright Gracie have it your way."
Relieved he let her be, Gracie kissed his cheek as Hope yelled for them that dinner was ready and to hurry up before disappearing through the throng of people.
"Guess she's letting us know she's ready to eat," Sully commented, tickled over the antics of the tiny 5-year old at the same time having flashbacks. Now that he'd seen her, he saw the change Belle had hinted at. As a child, Gracie was just as precocious as Hope. Now as a beautiful young woman, that precocious spark was gone.
"I don't think I was ever allowed to get away with something like that at her age," Gracie noted, walking with Sully to the food-laden buffet.
Reminded of a certain wedding he attended when she was barely a year old, Sully had to laugh. "Gracie, you got away with that and a lot more, I promise."
**************************
Gracie was enjoying herself. She had endured the round of hugs from her long-time friends and been introduced to those she didn't know and now sat on the swing observing the goings on around her.
And then she spied Joey Doherty.
He must have just arrived. She didn't remember seeing him earlier. And she didn't want to see him now. Maybe he hadn't seen her. Silently, she crept to the edge of the garden, making her way to the French doors without being seen. She was almost home free.
"You're not even going to talk to me?"
Recognizing that voice, Gracie paused in her retreat with her hand on the doorknob. She was being rude. It went against the way she was brought up - the shame of her behavior caused her to turn. "Good evening, Mr. Doherty. Please enjoy yourself."
Joe didn't know whether to laugh or shake her. She obviously hadn't forgotten him! "Fine Grace, when you decide to join the rest of us peons, let, me know." Shocked at his remark, Gracie managed to close her mouth, then replied, "Are you insinuating something?"
He took a step closer. Too close in Grace's opinion.
"Let's just say I'd be curious to know - what does it feel like to walk on water?"
His implication wasn't lost. "I never said I was perfect!"
"You didn't have to, Grace," he said over his shoulder. He'd let her cool down and try again later. Maybe.
Feeling chastised, Grace was silent. Did she really come off that way? Or was it just Joey Doherty that brought it out in her?
Just walk away, the voice in her head warned. Get as far away from Joey Doherty as you can.
And she did. Quickly.
CHAPTER 4
Grace glanced at her watch. Again. Where was Belle? She had to show up soon - it was almost time for Taylor's shift to start and, according to MaMa, Belle always met him before then. She resumed staring out the window. If she wasn't here in five minutes -
"There you are," Taylor's voice floating down the staircase interrupted her mental tirade. "Belle just called. Said to tell you it looks great and she'll meet you at home."
Grace rolled her eyes. This had to stop. She's been back for almost three months now and Belle was finding every excuse in the book to get her to the firehouse when Joey was supposed to be there. Thankfully, the engines had been out when she arrived. Where did Belle get the idea that she was interested in Joey or vice versa? Grace wasn't sure she even wanted to see anyone on a romantic level anyway. She picked up her bag and turned to leave. "Thanks, Taylor."
"Wow," was his response as he finally trained his attention on her. "You cut your hair."
Self-conscious, Grace attempted without success to brush a few too-short locks behind her ear. It had been a long time since her hair was so short. "Yeah." "It looks great," he said, still staring at her in surprise.
Grace smiled her thanks at the compliment and turned to leave. She was met with a smokey-smelling solid wall of firefighters tromping upstairs. When had they gotten back?
Great, just what she needed - fourteen men coming off an adrenaline high.
Maybe they wouldn't notice her. She was petite and quiet and could manage to leave a room with no one the wiser.
Sure. Right.
"Hey, Gracie," Jimmy greeted, noticing her right off, then, "You cut your hair!"
What was it about her hair? So she cut it. Lots of women kept their hair short. Okay, so she'd had more than twelve inches chopped off all at once. So? Remembering Jimmy had spoken to her, she gave the same response as she'd given Taylor. "Yeah. Decided it was time."
Sort of. She wasn't about to admit she'd been so stupid as to grow her hair out to begin with because a man preferred to be seen with a woman who had long hair. She'd always preferred to keep it cut short and not spend much time on it. Then she'd met Jonathan.
"It looks great," Jimmy replied, quickly adding, "Not that you didn't look great the other way. That is -"
Grace didn't bother to hide her smile. She'd heard stories of Jimmy getting himself in hot water with the women in his life using his vocabulary - and more. "Thanks, Jimmy. I have to run."
She was still grinning when she ran into Joey at the bottom of the stairs. She had had encounters with him since the night of her homecoming, mostly arranged by Belle. They'd been kept short and civil. She still thought he was too handsome for his own good.
It took Joe a moment to realize just who he'd almost trampled. "Grace - your hair! I-"
This was getting insane! Grace lost what little patience she had. "I cut it! So what? What is it with everyone. People do cut their hair!"
"I just -" Joe tried to explain, backing up to let her through.
"It'll grown! I just like it short. And another thing, just because I prefer to keep it short doesn't mean I'm any less feminine because of it. If you like long hair so much, grow your own out and deal with it!"
Having finished her unreasonable outburst, she turned, leaving a confused Joey to stare after her.
"What," came a voice next to Joe. "Was that?"
"Yeah, Joe, what'd you do?" A second voice chimed.
Joe tore his gaze away from Gracie turning the corner to address his best friends, Ian Russell and Cole Gentry. "Got me. All I did was try to apologize for running over her."
Ian laughed. "Let me rephrase: WHO was that?"
"Grace Boscorelli."
"As in - "
"Bosco's daughter," Joe confirmed. "Belle's sister. She's the oldest."
"I didn't know she was such a babe. Where's she been?" Cole questioned, heading upstairs. "You need to introduce me."
Joe gave his friend a push up the stairs, laughing at the thought of how Gracie would react to Cole. Cole was the resident 'ladies' man.' "Grace - a babe? Shrew is more like it?"
"Maybe she just hasn't met the man that can handle her yet," Cole grinned. No woman could resist a fireman.
"And your ugly face is gonna do that?" Ian commented.
"Well, yours won't."
Joey listened to his friends with half an ear. Cole was the last thing Gracie needed. He was a great guy - Joe wouldn't want anyone else but Cole and Ian covering his back but neither was right for Grace Boscorelli. And Ian was practically engaged.
Unless he'd misread the signs, Gracie had been hurt - badly - and was to be handled carefully.
No, Cole wasn't for Grace. At all.
*******************
CHAPTER 5
Gracie answered the door and frowned. What was he doing here?
"Who is it, Grace?" Sophie called over the bannister.
"It's me, Sophie,"Joe answered stepping around Grace into the gaily decorated foyer. Christmas was definitely celebrated in the Boscorelli home if the decorations were any indication, he thought, looking around the spacious home. Evergreen, ivy and holly seemed to be everywhere decorated with touches of gold, silver, pinks and lavenders. Joey was reminded of pictures of period homes decorated similar to this.
"Joe, so glad you could accompany us tonight. Grace will show you into the morning room. We shouldn't be too long. Taylor and Belle are somewhere around also. Hope, dear, stop twirling your hair," Sophie abandoned her role as invisible hostess to Grace in order to finish getting her younger children ready to go.
Grace wanted to escort her guest. Right out the door and off the nearest cliff. However, once again her upbringing left her little choice but to show Joe to the morning room as she'd been instructed. She loved Christmas. Since coming home, she'd practically been counting down the days until tonight. Attending the ballet was a long-standing tradition of the Boscorelli family and one she never missed. It was one of those times that the family really dressed up and enjoyed themselves.
Watching Joe lower himself to the sofa, Grace knew Belle had taken it upon herself to invite him as Grace's 'guest'. She just wanted to know why he had accepted. The ballet didn't seem to be his first choice of entertainment.
And who knew that a tuxedo could look so - well - well- yummy - on Joey Doherty?
Joe was making an effort not to stare. How had he ever saw this woman as anything other than beautiful. She had gathered her short curls at the crown with rhinestone hairpins, leaving the shorter ringlets to dangle around her face. She wore a long sleeve, deep plum satin dress trimmed in black lace and jet beading that fit snug from the neck through the bodice and fell into the full skirt. Joe thought the color of the dress was a stunning contrast to her porcelain complexion and swallowed when she turned her back to him to adjust an ornament on the massive Christmas tree before the window. While the bodice front revealed nothing, it was deceiving in the modesty of the dress. The back was asymmetrically cut very low, revealing her bare back and clutched with a velvet bow at the side of her tiny waist, the ends left to trail down over the gathers at the back of the skirt. Joe thought he'd never seen anything more sensually feminine.
"Joe!"
Startled back to his senses - and manners - Joe turned to seen the only son of Sophie and Maurice Boscorelli toss his tuxedo jacket over the back of a chair before taking a seat across from Joe. The seventeen year-old had inherited his mother's temperament and his father's looks. Although Joe thought having two older sisters and two younger sisters might have had something to do with the former.
"You Gracie's date?" He asked, grinning and glancing at his older sister.
"He's not my anything!" Grace answered angrily before Joe could answer.
Jackson stared at his oldest sister, who was doing a slow boil. With four sisters, he'd long ago become used to the mood swings that seemed to run rampant in the house and learned to pay them no mind. "Mom wanted you upstairs. Something about getting Hope's hair done."
Thankful for a reason to leave Joey's presence, Grace headed for the door. "You need to find Taylor and Belle. Daddy's going to want to leave or we're going to be late.
Joe watched her leave unaware that Jackson was watching him.
"So, are you?" Jackson asked, adding. "Grace's date, that is."
Joe grinned. "Not sure if 'date' is the right word. Belle asked if I would come and keep Taylor company. I was off tonight, so why not?" He refrained from mentioning it was a great way to see Grace.
"Great, you're here!" Belle exclaimed from the entry where she stood with Taylor.
Before he could answer, he heard the muffled thump-thump-thump of someone hopping down the carpeted staircase.
"Careful, Hope."
The little girl turned at the sound of her father's voice behind her as she came to a halt at the bottom.
Maurice Boscorelli reached the bottom of the staircase and, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, surveyed those gathered in the entry, counting who was missing from his family. "Soph, we gotta go!"
No sooner had he given the order than the remaining three Boscorelli women, Sophie, Grace and Claudia Rose, all dressed in their finery, hurried down the steps.
Grace pointedly ignored Joe as he tried to help her with her coat. She was determined to ignore him and enjoy her evening.
Unfortunately, it didn't go as she had planned.
Upon arrival, Hope announced she had to 'go'. Now.
Grace didn't miss the mental exasperation flash through Sophie's eyes as Hope proceeded to start the 'potty' dance. Quickly, she handed her coat to Jackson and took her little sister's hand. "I'll take her, MaMa. We'll meet you in the box."
Arriving moments before the lights flashed signaling the beginning of the ballet, Grace arrived to discover the only available seats left in the box were by Claudia Rose, which Hope promptly claimed, and Joe. Grace felt like she'd been betrayed by her own family. No one said anything as she sat as far as she could from the man and still share the small upholstered settee with him.
The music began, the lights dimmed, and Gracie was able to forget, for a time, that she strongly disliked the handsome man next to her.
*********************************
Grace, still keyed up from the ballet, hung back as everyone piled into the car. "I'm going to walk a bit, MaMa. You all go on; I'll get myself home."
Sophie exchanged glances with her husband.
"I'll see she gets home safe," a voice interrupted from behind.
Bosco looked first at Joe, then his wife, who nodded. "Fine."
"I don't need a sitter," Grace protested, having seen the glances her parents exchanged.
"Gracie, precious, have you forgotten? This isn't the Midwest," Sophie gently reprimanded. "I only want you safe."
In truth, she had forgotten. A little. She didn't go out much at night and if she did, it was with Belle or someone. Grace gave in. She loved her parents too much to cause them worry just because she was being stubborn. "All right, ,MaMa. I won't be long and I'll be quiet when I come in."
"Where would you like to go?" Joe asked as the car pulled away from the curb.
Pulling her coat together at the neck, she started strolling down the sidewalk, leaving Joe to follow. "I just want to take the city in. It seems so different at this time of the year."
Joe didn't have to ask what she meant. There was a special air that fell over the city at Christmas.
They walked in silence for a time; Grace's heels clicking on the concrete mixing with the car horns and sirens that echoed occasionally. The lights from various storefront decorations lighting their way.
"Would you like to go window shopping?" His voice cut through the night as he took her elbow to assist her through a rough area of the sidewalk when her heel caught.
She felt her heart pickup and tucked her head down, reaching behind her to pull the hood up over her head. She hoped he didn't notice her sudden nervousness. He was a handsome man, she'd admit that, but she also knew he had women throwing themselves at him. For her, that was cause enough for concern about any attraction she felt toward him. She didn't think she could take a second disappointment. Ever.
Joe watched the graceful young woman at his side. She had yet to answer his impulsive suggestion. She pulled the hood up over her head and turned her face up to his. He was going to have a hard time deciding when she looked more appealing: earlier that night or now.
Her cheeks had turned rosy with the cold. Her dark eyes glistened, reflecting the Christmas lights from the street. She reminded him of a time in history when women didn't expect to be treated equal to a man. They expected - and were given- treatment higher than a man.
"Thank you. I'd like that." Her voice was softer - more sincere- than he'd 'ever heard it.
Remembering what he'd said, Joe hailed a cab. Before she knew it, he was assisting her out of the car across from the Plaza Hotel.
"Shall we?" He asked, circling her arm with hers and holding it there with his other hand.
Preoccupied with his action, Grace stammered out a response and allowed him to lead her down the street. She wondered at the kind of picture they must have made, both of them dressed so formally.
"You look nice tonight, by the way," he said as they paused to cross the street.
"Thank you. You look nice, too." She tucked her head further into her hood. It was hard to tell if he were sincere or just being polite. Unless it was sincerely given, she didn't care for compliments and right now she couldn't tell if Joe were being sincere or just making conversation.
Uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy that had developed between them, Grace pulled away from his touch, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. This was a new development. She was ready to go home and get some perspective. Yet, she wanted to stay with him just a bit longer.
Joe interpreted her stance and assumed the cold had finally gotten to her. "You're cold. Why don't we come back another night?"
Grace would have agreed to just about anything. She was cold; that was true. But it was his presence that was setting her on edge, she admitted to herself watching Joey hailing a cab.
The cab waited while he walked her to the door. She unlocked it before turning back to Joe. He was smiling just enough to show his dimples. And standing a bit too close. With a start, Grace realized he looked like he wanted to kiss her. The thought wasn't unappealing.
He was moving closer.
He was going to kiss her.
She panicked.
"Thank you." She blurted, reaching for the doorknob. "It was nice."
Joe blinked. He had wanted to kiss her. But before he could, she had let herself in.
He was now staring at the heavy oak door. Alone.
Author's Note: Forgive me if the ages and dates of some of the characters do not seem to gel just right. Math was never my strongest subject. Just use your imagination - that's why this is called FICTION. I did the best I could in the long run as far as dates and ages goes. As for other things that may be fuzzy - patience - it will make sense. Hope you enjoy.
CHAPTER 2
"Why didn't you say something?"
Jimmy looked at his son. "I did. I told you not to go there. You know how Bosco is with his daughters."
Yes, everyone knew how Officer Maurice Boscorelli was with his daughters. Actually, all the women in his life. Protective was a mild description for starters.
Watching Grace across the room, he knew why. This couldn't be the same little girl with unmanageable curls that he enjoyed teasing so much when they were younger. The little girl had grown into a beautiful woman. How long had it been? He hadn't paid much attention once he turned sixteen when his mother would mention the Boscorelli or Davis kids. How old was she now anyway? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? He watched her toss her long locks back over a shoulder and swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.
Jimmy watched his son. He knew if Joe insisted on pursuing Grace Boscorelli he would have to get past her father. Everyone knew if you wanted to see a Boscorelli girl, any of the Boscorelli girls, you had to have their father's blessing.
"You think she remembers me?" Joe was asking.
Jimmy wondered where his son's somewhat intelligent brain was at the moment. "Son, you spent the biggest part of her childhood torturing her. I'd say the odds aren't in your favor."
Joe had the decency to look like he regretted all those times.
**************************************
"He's watching you."
Grace frowned at her sister. All she'd done since they moved into the kitchen of the firehouse was announce what Joey Doherty was doing. Personally, Grace didn't care. She just wanted him to go away. She'd caught him staring at her outside and hadn't cared for the attention. She hadn't thought Joey Doherty would still be around. All she knew was he had tortured her by his teasing when she was little; in general, making her life miserable when he was around.
Besides, the man was too handsome for his own good.
Belle, on the other hand, was planning her big sister's future. She saw the way Joey Doherty was watching Gracie. Oh, this was perfect. Maybe Joey could coax Gracie back into her old self. Her older sister hadn't always been so aloof - just in the last year or so. And now this sudden move back to the city.
Unlike herself, Gracie had chosen to attend college at their mother's alma mater in the Midwest - a small private university - and then she had stayed in the area for two years after graduating caring for an elderly relative. Two weeks ago, Gracie had called and said she was moving back home. She missed her family. Belle had her theories on what caused the sudden change. No one else seemed to notice the change in Grace, or if they did, said nothing but Belle had spent hours with her sister. Something had happened. She would just have to find a way to get the old Gracie back. And seeing the way Joe looked at Gracie -
"Taylor!" Belle's face lit at the sight of Taylor Davis, her best friend, her confidant, the love of her life, and she leapt to embrace him tightly, putting Gracie at the back of her mind for the moment. Even though it seemed the firehouse was a second home, it wasn't often that she got to see Taylor during one of his paramedic shifts.
Grace hoped the envy she felt didn't show on her face. She should be used to seeing Belle and Taylor together. Even though Belle was the elder by two months, they'd practically been attached since birth. But now, watching them together made her want to wallow in self pity.
"So," Taylor said, sitting at the table across from Grace. "How are the wide open spaces?"
Grace smiled at his description of her home for the last six years. "Wide, open and spacious."
"Sorry you came back?" he asked, stretching an arm across the back of Belle's chair.
Grace shrugged in response. There are things she would miss but her family was here. And life continued.
"TAYLOR!"
At the shout echoing in the stairwell, Grace sensed the mood in the room change as it quickly emptied leaving Taylor, Belle, Grace and Joey.
"JACKSON TAYLOR DAVIS!"
Grace looked to Belle for an explanation. That was a woman's voice calling her sister's boyfriend's name.
Belle was looking at Taylor, who was slowly rising from the chair he'd just taken, asking quietly, "What did you do?"
Before he answered, the voice sounded again from the stairwell door. Very calmly, very menacing, and very angry. "He forgot to drop off my bag."
Grace found the source of the voice and felt her breath leave her body. She was looking at a ghost.
"Livvie - " Taylor began, backing away from the young woman slowly stalking him. "I-"
Gracie blinked, catching her breath as Taylor's words registered. Olivia? Little Olivia Davis? Grace couldn't tear her gaze away from the irate blonde, dressed in workout clothes, hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating her high cheekbones and blue eyes. She looked just like her mother.
"Spooky, isn't it?"
Gracie turned to Joe, probably the only other person remaining in the room who remembered Olivia's mother besides herself. He caught the expression on her face and was leaning over her shoulder. At the moment, she was too stunned to mind he was invading her 'personal space'. "Yeah. For a minute, I thought -"
"I know," he said before continuing to the weight room.
Grace didn't need to ask for more detail; she knew.
Olivia Elizabeth Davis looked just like her mother. Alexandra Taylor- Davis, one of the few female firefighters in the history of the New York Fire Department - and sometimes paramedic - had been killed in a freak explosion while working as a paramedic. Taylor had been three and a half; Olivia had been twenty months. Her death had been so shocking, it had permanently impacted everyone from Ladder 55. Grace didn't know the details of her death; at six years old, she'd only known that Alex's funeral was different than the one for Mrs. Grayson just a short time before. Maybe it was because of those left to carry on: Ty, Taylor and Olivia.
She remembered MaMa, in her sadness, had told her that Alex had completed what she was put on the earth to do and God had called her home. After that, MaMa had spent a lot of time with Ty, Taylor and Olivia and Beth Taylor, Taylor and Olivia's grandma and then Taylor and Olivia had come to live with the Boscorelli family for a while in the huge, historical home they had inherited from Mrs. Grayson and had moved into just weeks before Alex left them.
Grace blinked the moisture from her eyes and brought herself back to the present. She hadn't thought about Alex in years. Seeing Olivia had brought back all her memories.
" 'Livia," Belle was saying in an attempt to calm Olivia's fury. She had placed herself between her boyfriend and his sister who looked as if she could bite nails in half.
"Don't even try to protect him, Belle," Olivia interrupted. "Do you know what was in that bag?"
"Your college applications that were mailed an hour ago?"
Olivia turned at the source of the statement - her father.
Sargent Ty Davis held his daughter's bag out to her. The years had been kind to the tall, handsome officer despite the tragedies he'd suffered - primarily, the loss of his wife sixteen years ago. Grace marveled at his strength. He had lost his wife and devoted himself to raising their children. Grace wondered if he had ever considered remarrying. But then, to her knowledge, he had never dated since Alex's death.
"Thank you, Daddy," Olivia said, sweetness and smiles, as she took her bag from her father's outstretched hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss his smooth shaven cheek. Her temper seemed to have cooled significantly in the last ten seconds. "I'm gonna run upstairs and change."
Ty watched his daughter bound up the stairs. The same stairs her mother used to run up. She was so much like her and yet so different. Where Alex was never one to use her femininity to make a point or prove something, Olivia didn't hesitate. However, Olivia was just as strong and independent as her mother, if not more so. Ty supposed he'd spoiled his daughter, she'd not even been two when Alex was taken from them, and as she got older and resembled Alex even more, well, - she was her mother's daughter - not only in appearance but in action. Even Alex's mother, Beth, remarked once that if it were not for Olivia's total disregard for anything remotely tomboyish, she'd swear she was seeing her daughter all over again.
"Dad," 'Taylor was saying, Belle at his side. "I didn't forget on purpose."
"I know, don't worry about it. You know your sister," Ty said, answering his son, his gaze moving around the room. "Grace! When did you get back?"
Grace stood to embrace him. "Daddy picked me up a couple of hours ago."
Hearing the click of high heels on the stairs, Ty's attention was drawn to the staircase. His daughter had returned. Gone were the workout clothes and ponytail; a blonde bombshell had taken her place. "Where do you think you're going?"
Olivia looked at her father as she came down the stairs.. "Kylie and I are going to dinner. I told you that earlier, remember?"
"Not dressed like that, you're not," Ty informed her. He was in denial that his little girl was growing up. And knowing what it was like to be a young man didn't care to have his baby drawing any male attention.
"Kylie?" Carlos asked, having wandered through and hearing his daughter's name. "My Kylie?"
"You know any other Kylies?" Olivia asked rudely before turning her attention back to her father. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
Ty looked at the dusty blue pants and top. Nothing was wrong with the outfit, exactly, except that the jersey knit fabric clung to her in all the places Ty would prefer nothing would cling to. He supposed she looked pretty damn good to some young stud but this was his baby. He was her father and supposed to protect her from that sort of scum. "Apologize to Carlos. As for your outfit - it's just - it's - Kim?"
Kim had entered the room moments before and witnessed the exchange between father and daughter. She had periodically stepped in the role of mother to Olivia after Alex's death but her experience didn't include raising daughters; many issues that had come up had been referred to Sophie, whose experience with girls far outweighed her own. "I thought she looked pretty cute."
Olivia beamed victoriously.
That was not the answer Ty was looking for. Thankful to see Sophie and the youngest Boscorelli, five-year old Hope, appear at the top of the stairs, he promptly enlisted her help only to be met with a second disappointment.
"Ty, there's nothing wrong with what she's wearing," Sophie said gently, dropping motherly kisses on her own daughters' cheeks before turning to Olivia, kissing her cheek and handing her a hair clip. To some degree, she had considered Olivia to be one of her own daughters since Alex's passing. "You should pull your hair up, dear."
Ty knew he'd lost as he watched his daughter pull the sides of her long blond curls up, securing it at the crown, leaving the rest to stream down her back. "Okay, but will you wear a jacket?"
"Daddy," Olivia said, tilting her head at him in a way that said 'I'm not a little girl anymore.' Turning to Carlos, she apologized for her earlier rude remark before descending the stairs.
Sophie watched Ty stare after her. "She's beautiful." Ty shook his head as if to clear it. "Thanks. Ya know, she's just - "
"-like her," Sophie finished softly, as she followed Ty into the main room to await the arrival of her husband. Neither had to elaborate on who 'her' was.
Feeling restless and a little like an outsider, Grace made her way downstairs. She saw Olivia staring at the case that held photographs of all those lost in the line of duty. "Olivia?"
"I always have to look when I'm here," she quietly explained. Her blue gaze was trained on the photograph of her mother in her formal fire uniform. The only woman pictured. "Do you remember her?"
"A little, yes," Grace answered. She couldn't imagine how Olivia must feel. She had her mother; Olivia had never known hers.
"What was she like?"
Grace felt odd being questioned about Alex. Olivia should be asking her father or Kim or Sophie or even her grandmother about her mother. And yet seeing mother in daughter, she could guess why Olivia hadn't asked any of those people about her mother. "She would always play with me; although sometimes I'm not sure she was comfortable playing dolls and tea parties. She was funny, and kind and -"
"And beautiful," Olivia interrupted dryly, turning her blue eyes to Grace. "I mean - oh - I don't know."
"You look like her," Grace said quietly. And she did. Olivia had the same clear blue eyes, blond curls and slim build. And the same 'You can't tell me what I can and cannot do' attitude that got her mother on the New York Fire Department.
"Yes, I know. I know every time I come here, every time Daddy looks at me, every time I'm at Grandma's. I look like my dead mother - the famous Alex Taylor." Olivia thrust out her chin defiantly. In the exact manner her mother used when her guard went up. Olivia's gaze met Grace's, continuing more calmly, "It's been almost sixteen years. Sometimes, I think I remember her - little snippets - blue eyes, slightly off-key singing. You know I don't even know how she died? Only that there was an explosion."
"I'm sure MaMa would tell you anything she could if you asked her," she suggested, feeling the need to try and soothe her young friend's mind.
Walking with Grace to the open garage door, Olivia saw Kylie getting out of a cab and waved. Although there were several years' age difference between the two young women, their shared interest in law more than made up for it. "There's Kylie; I gotta go. Thanks, Grace. It's good to have you back."
Looking around, Grace spied her brother leaning against one of the parked ambulances watching the traffic. And watching Olivia Davis cross the street to meet her friend. Was she seeing things? Jackson and Olivia? That's something she didn't expect. "Hey, little brother."
He straightened and averted his gaze at the sound of her voice. "Hey. Didn't know you were there."
She bit back a grin. "She's something."
Jackson didn't need to ask who she was talking about. "Yeah."
"Why don't you ask her out?" Grace suggested. Just because she had sworn off any romantic relationships, didn't mean she couldn't encourage others.
"She's not interested," Jackson answered.
"And you know this because -"
"Because I know," Jackson concluded.
Gracie resisted the urge to thump some sense into her baby brother's thick skull. Instead, she only stated. "You should ask her," as she saw her father pull up in his RMP across the street effectively cutting off any further discussion. It was unspoken in the family that arguments were always quickly resolved. Life was hard enough; disagreements only made it worse. If you couldn't let the issue go, then you secluded yourself until you calmed down enough to approach it reasonably.
Greeting her father, Gracie realized how much she had missed her family. And how fortunate she was to have their support. They didn't know it but it was the one thing that was getting her through this.
CHAPTER 3
Grace sat on the swing in the backyard of the Boscorelli home watching Taylor and Belle entertaining Hope. It was a given that they would marry one day. Tears welled up to blur her vision. Why did everything have to change? But then Gracie had never handled change very well. She felt lost.
She understood Aunt Millie moving in with her dear friends Beatrice and Esther. It would have happened when Jonathan proposed anyway.
If he had proposed.
Grace immediately put the brakes on that particular subject. No one except Aunt Millie had even known about Jonathan. Grace had never mentioned him to MaMa and Daddy. Knowing her father's protectiveness, she had thought to see exactly how far things progressed before introducing them. Which was fortunate for her. She didn't have to deal with the 'what happened' questions now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Hope's squeal at Sully's arrival.
Grace smiled a greeting for the man she and her siblings referred to as their 'New York Grandpa'.
At almost seventy, retired cop John Sullivan had been adopted by the Boscorelli and Davis families and was frequently included in family celebrations. This time was no different.
They were celebrating the prodigal daughter's return home. Although Gracie would have preferred to return to New York and resume her life quietly. Whatever that consisted of.
But MaMa insisted this little get together had been planned long before Gracie had announced the move and Gracie had known better than to argue with her mother over the fact that she'd now been home over a week with no hint of any long term party plans.
So here she was.
She wanted to excuse herself and retreat to her room but felt that burden that comes to everyone - responsibility. She had to stay. She was the guest of honor. Sort of.
Sully lowered himself next to her, muttering, "It's good to have you back, Gracie."
She smiled. Genuinely smiled at him. Her Grandpa Sully wouldn't be asking her twenty questions. He was one of the few people who could just sit in another's presence and not have the need to fill the silence.
Apart from MaMa and Daddy, that is, she thought to herself, amending, Before they had four children. And then decided to adopt the fifth.
She and Sully sat watching the guests arrive. Although she wasn't sure 'guests' was the right work to use. D.K., Walsh, Jimmy, Kim, Carlos, Faith, and the list went on - were pretty much considered extended family by Sophie and treated as such.
Her gaze wandered back to her siblings and what she termed as 'the younger generation' - those who hadn't been at the 55 for as long as she could remember but were friends of Belle, Taylor and Jackson. Gracie recognized a few but most were strangers to her. Even though this was and would always be home, she had spent the past six years away from here except for the few days she returned for holidays and short trips to visit. It was strange; this time of finding herself again.
Gracie glanced at Sully. He looked melancholy staring at different parts of the garden that surrounded him.
"You miss her, don't you" Grace wasn't sure why she felt compelled to ask what she already knew.
Sully's attention remained on the roses along the edge of the fence. He didn't need to ask who Gracie was referring to. He missed Elenor Grayson every day. She and Sully had been introduced at Bosco and Sophie's wedding and become very close friends after Ty and Alex had married. Oh, Ty was still his best friend but marriage and children tended to change a man even though Ty and Alex had always welcomed him into their home and he was considered 'Grandpa' to Taylor and Olivia and Sully had been there for Ty when Alex had been killed. But Elenor - Elenor was a stubborn, pushy, overbearing, loving and beautiful woman who'd also lost her husband quite some time before they met. They'd quickly formed a bond. He had been one of the few people who knew about her illness before she'd been homebound - too ill to go out much. "Yes, Gracie, I miss her."
Grace heard the sadness in his voice. "Did you love her?'
Sully smiled at the young woman. He wasn't surprised at her boldness. "Yes, I did."
"But you never married," Grace felt compelled to point out.
"No, we didn't," Sully felt the need to continue. It was rare that he discussed his personal life with anyone. "Elle and I never felt it was necessary. We loved each other, true, we just never thought about it. I don't know - maybe we were too set in our ways to consider marriage."
Gracie listened as he spoke, waiting for some nugget of wisdom.
"Grace, what happened?" He asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" She should have known. She knew very well what was going on. Anytime someone thought Grace was troubled, they called in Sully to talk to her.
He gave a short laugh. "What do I mean? Gracie, come on, it's me."
Gracie gave up. She never could act. Especially with Sully. "I'm just feeling a little lost, Sully. I'll be fine."
He didn't really think that was everything. He'd been a cop too long to ignore his instincts. But he knew not to push Grace. That usually resulted in her pulling further away, so he let it go. "Alright Gracie have it your way."
Relieved he let her be, Gracie kissed his cheek as Hope yelled for them that dinner was ready and to hurry up before disappearing through the throng of people.
"Guess she's letting us know she's ready to eat," Sully commented, tickled over the antics of the tiny 5-year old at the same time having flashbacks. Now that he'd seen her, he saw the change Belle had hinted at. As a child, Gracie was just as precocious as Hope. Now as a beautiful young woman, that precocious spark was gone.
"I don't think I was ever allowed to get away with something like that at her age," Gracie noted, walking with Sully to the food-laden buffet.
Reminded of a certain wedding he attended when she was barely a year old, Sully had to laugh. "Gracie, you got away with that and a lot more, I promise."
**************************
Gracie was enjoying herself. She had endured the round of hugs from her long-time friends and been introduced to those she didn't know and now sat on the swing observing the goings on around her.
And then she spied Joey Doherty.
He must have just arrived. She didn't remember seeing him earlier. And she didn't want to see him now. Maybe he hadn't seen her. Silently, she crept to the edge of the garden, making her way to the French doors without being seen. She was almost home free.
"You're not even going to talk to me?"
Recognizing that voice, Gracie paused in her retreat with her hand on the doorknob. She was being rude. It went against the way she was brought up - the shame of her behavior caused her to turn. "Good evening, Mr. Doherty. Please enjoy yourself."
Joe didn't know whether to laugh or shake her. She obviously hadn't forgotten him! "Fine Grace, when you decide to join the rest of us peons, let, me know." Shocked at his remark, Gracie managed to close her mouth, then replied, "Are you insinuating something?"
He took a step closer. Too close in Grace's opinion.
"Let's just say I'd be curious to know - what does it feel like to walk on water?"
His implication wasn't lost. "I never said I was perfect!"
"You didn't have to, Grace," he said over his shoulder. He'd let her cool down and try again later. Maybe.
Feeling chastised, Grace was silent. Did she really come off that way? Or was it just Joey Doherty that brought it out in her?
Just walk away, the voice in her head warned. Get as far away from Joey Doherty as you can.
And she did. Quickly.
CHAPTER 4
Grace glanced at her watch. Again. Where was Belle? She had to show up soon - it was almost time for Taylor's shift to start and, according to MaMa, Belle always met him before then. She resumed staring out the window. If she wasn't here in five minutes -
"There you are," Taylor's voice floating down the staircase interrupted her mental tirade. "Belle just called. Said to tell you it looks great and she'll meet you at home."
Grace rolled her eyes. This had to stop. She's been back for almost three months now and Belle was finding every excuse in the book to get her to the firehouse when Joey was supposed to be there. Thankfully, the engines had been out when she arrived. Where did Belle get the idea that she was interested in Joey or vice versa? Grace wasn't sure she even wanted to see anyone on a romantic level anyway. She picked up her bag and turned to leave. "Thanks, Taylor."
"Wow," was his response as he finally trained his attention on her. "You cut your hair."
Self-conscious, Grace attempted without success to brush a few too-short locks behind her ear. It had been a long time since her hair was so short. "Yeah." "It looks great," he said, still staring at her in surprise.
Grace smiled her thanks at the compliment and turned to leave. She was met with a smokey-smelling solid wall of firefighters tromping upstairs. When had they gotten back?
Great, just what she needed - fourteen men coming off an adrenaline high.
Maybe they wouldn't notice her. She was petite and quiet and could manage to leave a room with no one the wiser.
Sure. Right.
"Hey, Gracie," Jimmy greeted, noticing her right off, then, "You cut your hair!"
What was it about her hair? So she cut it. Lots of women kept their hair short. Okay, so she'd had more than twelve inches chopped off all at once. So? Remembering Jimmy had spoken to her, she gave the same response as she'd given Taylor. "Yeah. Decided it was time."
Sort of. She wasn't about to admit she'd been so stupid as to grow her hair out to begin with because a man preferred to be seen with a woman who had long hair. She'd always preferred to keep it cut short and not spend much time on it. Then she'd met Jonathan.
"It looks great," Jimmy replied, quickly adding, "Not that you didn't look great the other way. That is -"
Grace didn't bother to hide her smile. She'd heard stories of Jimmy getting himself in hot water with the women in his life using his vocabulary - and more. "Thanks, Jimmy. I have to run."
She was still grinning when she ran into Joey at the bottom of the stairs. She had had encounters with him since the night of her homecoming, mostly arranged by Belle. They'd been kept short and civil. She still thought he was too handsome for his own good.
It took Joe a moment to realize just who he'd almost trampled. "Grace - your hair! I-"
This was getting insane! Grace lost what little patience she had. "I cut it! So what? What is it with everyone. People do cut their hair!"
"I just -" Joe tried to explain, backing up to let her through.
"It'll grown! I just like it short. And another thing, just because I prefer to keep it short doesn't mean I'm any less feminine because of it. If you like long hair so much, grow your own out and deal with it!"
Having finished her unreasonable outburst, she turned, leaving a confused Joey to stare after her.
"What," came a voice next to Joe. "Was that?"
"Yeah, Joe, what'd you do?" A second voice chimed.
Joe tore his gaze away from Gracie turning the corner to address his best friends, Ian Russell and Cole Gentry. "Got me. All I did was try to apologize for running over her."
Ian laughed. "Let me rephrase: WHO was that?"
"Grace Boscorelli."
"As in - "
"Bosco's daughter," Joe confirmed. "Belle's sister. She's the oldest."
"I didn't know she was such a babe. Where's she been?" Cole questioned, heading upstairs. "You need to introduce me."
Joe gave his friend a push up the stairs, laughing at the thought of how Gracie would react to Cole. Cole was the resident 'ladies' man.' "Grace - a babe? Shrew is more like it?"
"Maybe she just hasn't met the man that can handle her yet," Cole grinned. No woman could resist a fireman.
"And your ugly face is gonna do that?" Ian commented.
"Well, yours won't."
Joey listened to his friends with half an ear. Cole was the last thing Gracie needed. He was a great guy - Joe wouldn't want anyone else but Cole and Ian covering his back but neither was right for Grace Boscorelli. And Ian was practically engaged.
Unless he'd misread the signs, Gracie had been hurt - badly - and was to be handled carefully.
No, Cole wasn't for Grace. At all.
*******************
CHAPTER 5
Gracie answered the door and frowned. What was he doing here?
"Who is it, Grace?" Sophie called over the bannister.
"It's me, Sophie,"Joe answered stepping around Grace into the gaily decorated foyer. Christmas was definitely celebrated in the Boscorelli home if the decorations were any indication, he thought, looking around the spacious home. Evergreen, ivy and holly seemed to be everywhere decorated with touches of gold, silver, pinks and lavenders. Joey was reminded of pictures of period homes decorated similar to this.
"Joe, so glad you could accompany us tonight. Grace will show you into the morning room. We shouldn't be too long. Taylor and Belle are somewhere around also. Hope, dear, stop twirling your hair," Sophie abandoned her role as invisible hostess to Grace in order to finish getting her younger children ready to go.
Grace wanted to escort her guest. Right out the door and off the nearest cliff. However, once again her upbringing left her little choice but to show Joe to the morning room as she'd been instructed. She loved Christmas. Since coming home, she'd practically been counting down the days until tonight. Attending the ballet was a long-standing tradition of the Boscorelli family and one she never missed. It was one of those times that the family really dressed up and enjoyed themselves.
Watching Joe lower himself to the sofa, Grace knew Belle had taken it upon herself to invite him as Grace's 'guest'. She just wanted to know why he had accepted. The ballet didn't seem to be his first choice of entertainment.
And who knew that a tuxedo could look so - well - well- yummy - on Joey Doherty?
Joe was making an effort not to stare. How had he ever saw this woman as anything other than beautiful. She had gathered her short curls at the crown with rhinestone hairpins, leaving the shorter ringlets to dangle around her face. She wore a long sleeve, deep plum satin dress trimmed in black lace and jet beading that fit snug from the neck through the bodice and fell into the full skirt. Joe thought the color of the dress was a stunning contrast to her porcelain complexion and swallowed when she turned her back to him to adjust an ornament on the massive Christmas tree before the window. While the bodice front revealed nothing, it was deceiving in the modesty of the dress. The back was asymmetrically cut very low, revealing her bare back and clutched with a velvet bow at the side of her tiny waist, the ends left to trail down over the gathers at the back of the skirt. Joe thought he'd never seen anything more sensually feminine.
"Joe!"
Startled back to his senses - and manners - Joe turned to seen the only son of Sophie and Maurice Boscorelli toss his tuxedo jacket over the back of a chair before taking a seat across from Joe. The seventeen year-old had inherited his mother's temperament and his father's looks. Although Joe thought having two older sisters and two younger sisters might have had something to do with the former.
"You Gracie's date?" He asked, grinning and glancing at his older sister.
"He's not my anything!" Grace answered angrily before Joe could answer.
Jackson stared at his oldest sister, who was doing a slow boil. With four sisters, he'd long ago become used to the mood swings that seemed to run rampant in the house and learned to pay them no mind. "Mom wanted you upstairs. Something about getting Hope's hair done."
Thankful for a reason to leave Joey's presence, Grace headed for the door. "You need to find Taylor and Belle. Daddy's going to want to leave or we're going to be late.
Joe watched her leave unaware that Jackson was watching him.
"So, are you?" Jackson asked, adding. "Grace's date, that is."
Joe grinned. "Not sure if 'date' is the right word. Belle asked if I would come and keep Taylor company. I was off tonight, so why not?" He refrained from mentioning it was a great way to see Grace.
"Great, you're here!" Belle exclaimed from the entry where she stood with Taylor.
Before he could answer, he heard the muffled thump-thump-thump of someone hopping down the carpeted staircase.
"Careful, Hope."
The little girl turned at the sound of her father's voice behind her as she came to a halt at the bottom.
Maurice Boscorelli reached the bottom of the staircase and, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, surveyed those gathered in the entry, counting who was missing from his family. "Soph, we gotta go!"
No sooner had he given the order than the remaining three Boscorelli women, Sophie, Grace and Claudia Rose, all dressed in their finery, hurried down the steps.
Grace pointedly ignored Joe as he tried to help her with her coat. She was determined to ignore him and enjoy her evening.
Unfortunately, it didn't go as she had planned.
Upon arrival, Hope announced she had to 'go'. Now.
Grace didn't miss the mental exasperation flash through Sophie's eyes as Hope proceeded to start the 'potty' dance. Quickly, she handed her coat to Jackson and took her little sister's hand. "I'll take her, MaMa. We'll meet you in the box."
Arriving moments before the lights flashed signaling the beginning of the ballet, Grace arrived to discover the only available seats left in the box were by Claudia Rose, which Hope promptly claimed, and Joe. Grace felt like she'd been betrayed by her own family. No one said anything as she sat as far as she could from the man and still share the small upholstered settee with him.
The music began, the lights dimmed, and Gracie was able to forget, for a time, that she strongly disliked the handsome man next to her.
*********************************
Grace, still keyed up from the ballet, hung back as everyone piled into the car. "I'm going to walk a bit, MaMa. You all go on; I'll get myself home."
Sophie exchanged glances with her husband.
"I'll see she gets home safe," a voice interrupted from behind.
Bosco looked first at Joe, then his wife, who nodded. "Fine."
"I don't need a sitter," Grace protested, having seen the glances her parents exchanged.
"Gracie, precious, have you forgotten? This isn't the Midwest," Sophie gently reprimanded. "I only want you safe."
In truth, she had forgotten. A little. She didn't go out much at night and if she did, it was with Belle or someone. Grace gave in. She loved her parents too much to cause them worry just because she was being stubborn. "All right, ,MaMa. I won't be long and I'll be quiet when I come in."
"Where would you like to go?" Joe asked as the car pulled away from the curb.
Pulling her coat together at the neck, she started strolling down the sidewalk, leaving Joe to follow. "I just want to take the city in. It seems so different at this time of the year."
Joe didn't have to ask what she meant. There was a special air that fell over the city at Christmas.
They walked in silence for a time; Grace's heels clicking on the concrete mixing with the car horns and sirens that echoed occasionally. The lights from various storefront decorations lighting their way.
"Would you like to go window shopping?" His voice cut through the night as he took her elbow to assist her through a rough area of the sidewalk when her heel caught.
She felt her heart pickup and tucked her head down, reaching behind her to pull the hood up over her head. She hoped he didn't notice her sudden nervousness. He was a handsome man, she'd admit that, but she also knew he had women throwing themselves at him. For her, that was cause enough for concern about any attraction she felt toward him. She didn't think she could take a second disappointment. Ever.
Joe watched the graceful young woman at his side. She had yet to answer his impulsive suggestion. She pulled the hood up over her head and turned her face up to his. He was going to have a hard time deciding when she looked more appealing: earlier that night or now.
Her cheeks had turned rosy with the cold. Her dark eyes glistened, reflecting the Christmas lights from the street. She reminded him of a time in history when women didn't expect to be treated equal to a man. They expected - and were given- treatment higher than a man.
"Thank you. I'd like that." Her voice was softer - more sincere- than he'd 'ever heard it.
Remembering what he'd said, Joe hailed a cab. Before she knew it, he was assisting her out of the car across from the Plaza Hotel.
"Shall we?" He asked, circling her arm with hers and holding it there with his other hand.
Preoccupied with his action, Grace stammered out a response and allowed him to lead her down the street. She wondered at the kind of picture they must have made, both of them dressed so formally.
"You look nice tonight, by the way," he said as they paused to cross the street.
"Thank you. You look nice, too." She tucked her head further into her hood. It was hard to tell if he were sincere or just being polite. Unless it was sincerely given, she didn't care for compliments and right now she couldn't tell if Joe were being sincere or just making conversation.
Uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy that had developed between them, Grace pulled away from his touch, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. This was a new development. She was ready to go home and get some perspective. Yet, she wanted to stay with him just a bit longer.
Joe interpreted her stance and assumed the cold had finally gotten to her. "You're cold. Why don't we come back another night?"
Grace would have agreed to just about anything. She was cold; that was true. But it was his presence that was setting her on edge, she admitted to herself watching Joey hailing a cab.
The cab waited while he walked her to the door. She unlocked it before turning back to Joe. He was smiling just enough to show his dimples. And standing a bit too close. With a start, Grace realized he looked like he wanted to kiss her. The thought wasn't unappealing.
He was moving closer.
He was going to kiss her.
She panicked.
"Thank you." She blurted, reaching for the doorknob. "It was nice."
Joe blinked. He had wanted to kiss her. But before he could, she had let herself in.
He was now staring at the heavy oak door. Alone.
