Chapter Five
Mars
After a busy day exploring Seattle, I was able to track down almost everything I needed. I found a comic shop where I could get myStar Trekfix and make a sexy nerd all hot and bothered. I tracked down a couple dive bars near the apartment, one of which seemed well stocked with tattooed and very available gentlemen. I even went ahead and blew some money on steaks to make for dinner. Grace was looking a little pale, I thought, and could use something substantial to get her energy up.
What I didn’t find, though, was a place to work as a piercer. Part-time work and a few regular clients back in Detroit had kept my bank account above zero, with the occasional odd job injecting emergency funds when I needed them. But every tattoo parlor and piercing studio in Seattle turned me away without even a look at my experience.
I was trying not to feel discouraged when I got back to the house. I knew that Rip would look out for me, just like he always did. The whole ride across the country, he kept saying how much he appreciated me coming along and promising to float us while I got settled. Still, it was his aunt who was going through the rough time, and I really wanted to support him the same way he always supported me.
When I hopped out of my truck, I went straight to Grace’s apartment to see if she’d join us for a steak dinner. The door was unlocked, and when she didn’t answer to my knock, I let myself in.
“Grace?” I called softly. “You home?”
I stepped inside, and for a moment, my eyes adjusted to the dim light, blocked by the tightly drawn curtains. That’s when I noticed her, sitting at the kitchen table in her nightgown. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Grace,” I said, hurrying toward her. “You okay there?”
She was tapping her fingers on the table and staring straight ahead, and for a moment, it was like she didn’t even see me. Then she jerked her head sharply my way, startled. “Oh! Oh!” she said.
Her fingers kept tapping the table, and she had the same vacant look in her eyes. Knowing something was wrong, I grabbed her a glass of water, then took a seat beside her at the table. She studied the glass for a moment, then took a couple of deep drinks.
“How are you feeling, Grace?”
“Mars,” she said.
We sat in silence for a minute, and I listened to the steady rhythm of her fingers against the table. I made a gesture to drink more water, and she followed my lead, gulping down the rest of the glass. I refilled it, then noticed the shelf of tea bags by the stove. Flipping on the kettle, I dropped a relaxing chamomile tea into a mug and gave Grace a quiet moment while I prepared the drink.
Returning to the table, I placed both the mug and the water in front of Grace. My mind flashed back to a guy that Rip and I had crashed with one summer. He could get stuck in his anxieties sometimes, but there was always a way to get him out.
“Do you have a favorite song, Grace?” I asked, figuring it was worth a try. “A song that gives you happy memories?”
“Hmmm,” she said, as her fingers wenttap, tap, tap.
Which is when I remembered. Of course. It might not have been her favorite song, but I could definitely think of some happy ones.
“I… want to rock and roll all night…” I quietly sang, barely letting the words escape my lips.
Tap, tap, tap.
“And party every day,” I sang.
A tiny smile seemed to turn up the corner of Grace’s mouth, and she glanced at me again. With a flourish, her fingers sped up their tapping rhythm.
“That’s right,” I said, laughing and not even thinking about how off-key my singing must be. “I-I-I want to rock and roll all night. And party every day.”
I sang it almost like a lullaby, like it was the sweetest song in the world, and Grace started to bob her head back and forth. Slowly, the tempo of her fingers on the table changed, and she started singing along. “You show us everything you got,” she chirped out, “you keep on dancing and the room gets hot.”
Her voice was so stunningly beautiful, it sounded like a songbird had escaped its cage and started flying circles around the room. We kept singing, letting our voices rise and fall together. When we reached the end of the song, we both stopped, looked at each other, and broke out in laughter.
“Thank you for that,” she said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. When she lifted the tea with her free hand, I saw that it was trembling. “I just get stuck sometimes. A car must have backfired out front or something, and I startled, and the next thing I knew…”
“Don’t worry at all,” I said warmly, squeezing her hand back. “You know a little about my life. Trust me. This is nothing I haven’t seen before and nothing to feel embarrassed about.”
“Well that’s sweet of you,” she said, “but please do me a favor and don’t mention anything to Rip. This happens occasionally, but much less the past month. I’d rather he not worry if he doesn’t have to.”
I knew I’d be shit at keeping a secret from Rip, but I also knew that he and Grace would get around to talking about her mental health soon anyway. Her trust was important, so I nodded. “No problem,” I said. “And hey, I came by to ask would you like steak for dinner? I picked some up.”
“Steak and a song?” she teased. “How’d I get to be such a lucky lady?” She patted my hand, then rose to her feet. I could see she was still a little shaky, but I didn’t want to push.
