But for the Grace

By Kimberly Humphries-Washington

Grace Petersons life has been about helping others resolve conflicts and emotional issues that keep recurring in their lives. She began this quest at a very young age, starting with her family, so becoming a therapist was just inevitable.

Grace and her four friends hold one another together through lifes ups and downs, all while learning, supporting one another, encouraging, and creating an unshakable bond and friendship through their weekly group sessions.

Summer Hawthorne, an attorney at a prestigious law firm in New York City, is an extremely talented, single, fun-loving friend who always strives to get what she wants at any price. Summer is involved with a man she cant have and has developed a problem that she is going to have to come to grips with before it destroys her life.

Greta Williams, the owner of the Williams Classic Dance Studio, is an entrepreneur and married to a wonderful man who shares her love of dance. Shes a survivor and a fighter and has the ability to take life head on regardless of how many obstacles she constantly faces.

Dedicated to her marriage and a top fashion executive, Simone Grier has a forgiving spirit, is loyal, and is trusting. Her husband comes first, and loving him is like the air she breathes. Lately, she feels like her marriage is slipping away, and she doesnt know what to do to save it. He is changing right before her eyes, but leaving him is not an option.


Rainey Waters, the feisty one of the group, is streetwise and smart and speaks her mind in spite of what others may think. Raineys life revolves around her two children, family, and their father. She longs to live the fairy-tale life with the only man she has ever loved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514434826

Kimberly Humphries-Washington

Kimberly Humphries-Washington developed a love for writing and reading at the early age of twelve and created a collection of short stories. She graduated from Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, PA with a bachelor’s degree in Journalism. While there, she wrote articles for the university magazine. After graduating from college, she worked as a public relations coordinator for Ziff-Davis Publishing in New York City and a publications specialist for DeKalb College in Atlanta, GA. She eventually switched careers and decided to pursue another love of hers---fashion where she landed a job at Liz Claiborne Inc. in New York City as a merchandiser. If It Wasn’t for Grace is a continuation of her first novel. She currently works at a bridal salon and lives with her husband in Matawan, New Jersey.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Kimberly Humphries-Washington.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015920658

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-5144-3484-0

   Softcover   978-1-5144-3483-3

   eBook   978-1-5144-3482-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 12/15/2015

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Contents

Dedication to:

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Summer Hawthorne

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Simone Grier

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Summer Hawthorne

Rainey Waters

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Summer Hawthorne

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Simone Grier

Rainey Waters

Grace Peterson

Greta Williams

Summer Hawthorne

Grace Peterson

Summer Hawthorne

Simone Grier

Summer Hawthorne

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Summer Hawthorne

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Simone Grier

Greta Williams

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Summer Hawthorne

Greta Williams

Rainey Waters

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Greta Williams

Rainey Waters

Summer Hawthorne

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Summer Hawthorne

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Greta Williams

Rainey Waters

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Summer Hawthorne

Rainey Waters

Grace Peterson

Greta Williams

Simone Grier

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Simone Grier

Greta Williams

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Summer Hawthorne

Grace Peterson

Rainey Waters

Greta Williams

Simone Grier

Grace Peterson

Summer Hawthorne

Grace Peterson

Simone Grier

Rainey Waters

Grace Peterson

Simone Grier

Rainey Waters

Grace Peterson

Dedication to:

My parents, Harold and Margaret Humphries, my siblings, Jack E. Humphries and Flora N. Ellis, my auntie, Mattie Lee Humphries

Thank you to, my Lord and Savior for giving me a gift, my husband Calvin C. Washington for always supporting me and loving me, my Munch for teaching me compassion, my sisters JoAnn Saunders and Barbara Hilton for reading my manuscript and always encouraging me to write, my niece Jade Humphries-Graves for reading my manuscript, my mother-in-law Rozena Jamison for sharing life in the South, my best friends Francoise Isaac, who went through each page of the manuscript to help me pre-edit and Yolette Cadet for being my Grace Peterson

Special thanks to Dr. Kim, my Creative writing professor at Duquesne University

Grace Peterson

New York is always so loud and extremely busy, but when it snows, it transforms the rushing and the chaos of the city into a hush. You can barely hear a soul. It’s almost like the city is silent for a few hours. I have been watching the snow fall from the conference room window, and it started out with huge snowflakes resembling instant potato flakes to tiny fine flakes covering the entire city in a New York minute. I have always loved the different seasons, especially the winter when the snow falls.

I was born and raised in Denver, Colorado, and you have no choice but to love snow if you live there. I am the third child of Olivia and Kendrick Duncan, and I have been counseling my family ever since I can remember, always in the middle of some family discussion or argument trying to allow people to open up and express their true feelings. I can laugh about it now, but my father and brother would go to any lengths to avoid me because they never wanted to indulge me and communicate their inner thoughts. My sisters and my mom were just the opposite. They still call occasionally and pour out their hearts.

My parents have six children. My oldest sister is Serenity; next sister is Kendra, then me and my brother Kendrick Jr., then younger sisters Alexandra and Harmony.

Olivia and Kendrick Duncan were college sweethearts, who married and decided they wanted a large family. My mother is a court clerk and my father a district court judge, but you would never think they held those types of positions because I think my parents were the first black hippies. Growing up, they were all about peace and love.

They had their own mediation rooms, practiced Buddhism, and chanted three times a day for the longest time and often walked around the house in the nude.

The body, as I heard every day of my life, is natural and nothing to be ashamed of. I can’t tell you how many times we were told clothing is too restricting, but when we go out into the world, we must respect the rules and regulations. Everyone does not live as we do.

I try to speak with my family at least twice a week. It’s often hard to see them, though, with the distance between us. Everybody is so spread out with their own families and lives, so my friends have become family, and they sometimes cause me concern just like my siblings and parents.

So sometimes it’s hard to concentrate in a meeting because I have so many people on my mind. I tend to travel hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

I am actually counseling my friends instead of family these days. I majored in psychology with a minor in sociology, and I graduated with a degree, but I’m back in school. I’ve decided I want to be a therapist. I guess you can say I’m using my friends as case studies, but helping others get through difficult times in their lives is my specialty. In college, Summer, Greta, Simone, and I were roommates. We shared just about everything. There were times when we knew what the other was thinking. We have always been extremely close, but as my friends grow older, I can’t seem to figure out what’s going on with them. Summer is starting to drink alcohol like water and becoming more and more distant. Greta seems to be lacking her usual energy and zest for life; she always looks so tired and worn out. Simone has wrapped her entire life around her husband and, as a result, has lost who she is.

Rainey, whom we met through Greta’s dance studio, is too preoccupied with getting back with the father of her children and not thinking about her own future.

My husband laughs at me because he thinks I am in way over my head. He often says, There may be something seriously wrong with your friends, and they may need professional help. I think about that sometimes, but I also feel they just need an ear to listen, love, prayer, understanding, and support, and if I can’t give that to them, what kind of friend would I be?

Grace … What do you think about parents coming in and sitting in on the counseling sessions with their child? Dennis looks at Grace.

Grace was in deep thought once again and completely forgot she was in a meeting. What?

Parent interaction.

Yes … I think that would help tremendously in some cases.

We may need to further discuss parent interaction at a later date. I can’t think of anything else we need to cover today … Anyone? Dennis looks around the conference room table.

Everyone nods in agreement, and the meeting is adjourned. Grace leaves the conference room. She’s been counseling at the youth center for two years, and it’s been a learning experience, but she’s ready to get paid. Her husband, Lance, is the vice president of sales at a large advertising agency and really loves his job. Maybe one day she’ll feel the same.

Rainey Waters

Good afternoon, Elliott and Strauss, Rainey says as three phone lines begin to ring at the office where she works.

Rainey, Cinnamon Waters says.

Yes, Mama. Rainey recognizes her mother’s voice.

I can’t pick up Mina and Mitchell today. I forgot Lester and I are meeting a friend for a late lunch. He’s only in town for today, Cinnamon says.

Well … Hold on for a minute. Elliott and Strauss. Rainey places her mother on hold.

Mama, how am I supposed to pick up my kids, and where are they going to stay until I get home?

Rainey, you are a grown woman with two children. You always need to have a backup plan.

Mama, come on … I need you, Rainey pleads.

Rainey, call Rainelle, Cinnamon says.

Now, Mama, you know good and well Rainelle is not going to pick up those kids. She always has some excuse. Mama … Hold on, let me get this call. Rainey answers another call.

Mama, are you still there?

Yes. Tell your sister to call me, and I’ll ask her to do me a favor.

Never mind, I’ll call her. Thanks for the support, Mama.

Don’t get an attitude with me, girlfriend. I got to go. Lester is waiting outside. Cinnamon hangs up the phone. She just does not understand why her daughters expect her to drop everything to cater to their whims. I guess she is not supposed to have a life.

All the phone lines are lit up. Rainey takes control of the phones until her relief comes for her fifteen-minute break. She grabs her purse and coat and takes a walk outside.

There is a chill in the air, but it feels good. Rainey has been dying for a cigarette all day. As she takes that well-needed drag from her Newport, she dreads the fact that she has to call her sister for help.

Rainelle is my twin sister, and although sometimes you can’t tell us apart, we are total opposites. Rainelle has been in a twelve-year relationship with Curtis Blackwell, who goes by the name of Blackberry. He got the nickname because of his deep dark complexion. Everybody knows Blackberry; he is one of the biggest drug dealers in uptown. He’s been dealing drugs since he was fourteen years old.

The drug money has enabled them to purchase a brownstone in Harlem, a summer home in the Bahamas, a Jaguar, Range Rover, a Hummer, a black Mercedes Benz, and God only knows what else he owns. My sister is obsessed with the lifestyle. They have taken trips to Rome, Greece, Brazil, and all of the islands. The clothes, jewelry, furs, and socializing with the other drug dealers and their girlfriends are normal to her. She’s not the least bit afraid of that way of life.

Blackberry has been shot at least five times and recovered. The drug life is the only life he knows, and he has no remorse or any desire to do anything else.

Hello.

Ray, I need a favor.

You could at least ask me how I’m doing.

Okay, Ray, how are you, and how is Blackberry?

We are fine and leaving for Paris next week. I can’t wait. Do you want to come shopping with me? I’ll buy you something.

Thanks, sis, but when do I have time to go shopping? Listen, can you pick up your niece and nephew from school and let them stay with you until I get home?

I don’t know. I have an appointment for a facial at one thirty.

Well, how long does that take? School is out at 3:00 p.m.

Wait a minute. What’s Mama doing?

She’s going somewhere with Lester.

All right, I’ll be there.

Thanks, Ray. I really appreciate it.

Just don’t make this last-minute shit a habit.

Rainey looks at her watch. Ray … got to go my break is over. I owe you one.

Rainey runs back inside her office building to finish the day.

Greta Williams

Greta pulls up in front of her building and reaches in the back of her car for the box of tap shoes she just purchased. The Williams Classic Dance School has been in operation for the past five years and doing quite well. When her husband came up with the idea, she had her doubts. Shawn was very convincing, and she’s glad he persuaded her to invest in their future.

I discovered dancing at a very early age, when my mother took me to the ballet. I had never seen something so beautiful. That was the only time I can remember my mother being sober. As a child of an alcoholic mother and drug-addicted father, dancing consoled me. If my father left us for weeks on one of his drug binges and my mother stayed in bed all day with her bottle of Jack Daniels, I would go in my room and make up dance steps.

Dancing was a form of survival. It kept me alive. There were so many times I wanted to just take my own life. After my father went on one of his usual binges and never came back home, my mother zoned out completely and was committed to the West Haven Mental Health Facility. I spent the remainder of my childhood in foster care, hoping for the day when my mommy or daddy would get better and come and rescue me and my brother. They never came, and my brother was eventually adopted and relocated to Virginia. I have not seen him since we were kids.

I never wanted to get adopted because I just knew my parents were coming to get me one day, so I did anything and everything in my power to keep me from getting adopted like my brother. I think he just gave up believing and decided to let someone else love him. I was stubborn and refused to let go.

I lived in six different foster homes. Once I started taking dance classes, I found a renewed spirit growing inside of me. It allowed me to let go and dance my troubled past away.

Greta unlocks the door to the dance studio, turns on all the lights, and puts the tap shoes in the closet along with all the other shoes used for dancing. She hangs up her coat and walks back to her office to prepare a cup of tea.

Greta! Shawn yells.

Back here. Greta puts her tea down on her desk.

Shawn walks in, grabs his wife, and lands a juicy kiss on her lips.

Well, thank you. Greta sits down at her desk.

You are welcome. Shawn sits on the side of Greta’s desk.

I just have three classes today. What about you? Greta sips her tea.

Five.

You have a day ahead of you, sir.

No kidding. Are you going to Grace’s tonight?

No that’s tomorrow night … Why?

Just wanted to know how come she never invites the fellows to her sessions? Shawn smiles.

Because it’s our time to unwind and be ourselves. I think it would be awkward with men around.

Shawn stands up to leave the office. You all just want to sit around and dog us out. He laughs.

Not all the time.

Greta gets up from her desk and goes to the back lounge to change into her dance gear. She’s just been so tired these past few months. A vacation is so long overdue and as soon as she gets the opportunity, the travel agent will be hearing from her

Summer Hawthorne

Summer, can I get you anything from the cafeteria? Sara asks.

Yes, please. A cup of coffee. Here’s $10 … I don’t have anything smaller.

Plenty … Oh … I put the Pryor file on your desk.

Thanks.

Summer flips through the file and then puts it down on her desk. She looks down at her hands, which seem to be shaking slightly. Summer places her trembling hands between her thighs, hoping this will stop the shaking. Where is Sara with that coffee?

One cup of coffee, Sara says as she places the hot cup of coffee on Summer’s desk.

Do you have enough to keep yourself busy today?

Yes … I’m still finishing up paperwork on John Dean’s case.

Good. Could you close the door behind you, please?

Summer unlocks her bottom desk drawer and pulls out her bottle of Kahlua. She pours the Kahlua in her coffee, leans back in her big black leather chair, and takes a sip. A warm calming sensation overwhelms her entire body, and she feels relaxed instantly. Summer looks down at her hands. The shaking has stopped. Her day can now begin.

Simone Grier

Evan, what do you want for dinner, lamb chops or steak?

Evan yells from the bedroom. Chops. That’s quicker than steak, right?

Yeah, but what’s the rush? Simone gets the pan ready by pouring olive oil in the skillet.

I promised Jake I would meet him back at the office for a quick meeting on that Newton case, Evan says as he steps into some cologne he just sprayed.

Evan! Simone drops the chop in the oil, and it splatters on her T-shirt. Damn, she whispers, her clean white tee ruined.

Evan, I had a quiet romantic evening planned. Evan, we need this time. How long will it take? Simone turns the fire down on the stove and places the lid on the skillet. She turns the corner to their master bedroom.

Evan, what time will you be back? She hands Evan his watch off the dresser.

Baby, I really don’t know. You know how Jake is. He’s a talker. It could be late. Evan takes another look in their full-length mirror and straightens his tie.

Simone sighs and returns back to the kitchen to check on the lamb chops.

You know, baby, I don’t even think I have time to eat. Look at the time. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can get back. Evan walks in the kitchen and leans over to kiss Simone on the cheek. Baby, I am sorry, but you knew once we started our careers, they would take precedence over our lives. This is only temporary until we reach our goals. Simone, just hold on for me, please. I love you. Evan grabs Simone’s waist and kisses her on the lips.

Don’t wait up. Evan grabs his keys and cell off the kitchen island and walks out the front door.

I’ll be up, Evan, because we really need to talk. Simone takes a bottle of wine out of the wine refrigerator and pours it into a glass. She holds it by the stem and slowly sips the wine as if it’s the answer to her problems. Though it may not be the solution, Simone is getting calmer with each sip.

Every day this week, Evan has been doing something at the office. I pray that next month is different. I really need to consider planning a vacation and soon. Our marriage needs it.

Grace Peterson

Grace walks into her foyer and places her keys and purse on the console table. She heads straight for the kitchen and pulls out a pasta salad, vegetable, cheese/fruit tray with dip, and salsa from her refrigerator. In her pantry, Grace finds some crackers, potato, and tortilla chips. She thinks she has everything. The wine is chilling in the wine cooler, and she has some fruit juices to serve as well. Everything looks good, Grace thinks all she needs to do now is change and wait for her guests.

My dear friends, Greta, Rainey, Simone, and Summer all arrive on time this evening, which is unusual for them. Most of the time, someone is always late.

Okay, ladies, you know the deal. Please help yourself to some snacks and refreshments in the dining room. Grace leads her guests to the dining room where everything is set up.

What’s going on, everybody? Grace squeezes Rainey’s shoulders.

Not too much. Glad to be out of work and tomorrow is Friday. Rainey takes a bite of her carrot.

Let’s go into the living room.

Everyone follows Grace to the formal living room.

So what’s been going on since we last met? Grace looks around the room for some kind of response. It seems like everybody is preoccupied with either their food or drink or fumbling with their hair. The only sound heard in the room is from the cars riding by on the busy street in front of her house.

Okay, since no one wants to talk, I will go first. Lance has been offered a promotion to president of sales at the corporate office in Nashville, TN. Grace picks up her glass of wine.