Fallen From Grace (Installment Three)

She reflected on her short day so far.  Chewing her delicious bread, she heard a noise.  Grace froze and slowly scanned her small apartment.  What was that?  She heard the noise again.  It was coming from the door. Never before in all the years at her apartment has she ever had a visitor.  Again, she heard the noise.  There was no mistaking, it was a knock.
"Hello?" said a male voice from the other side of the door.
Grace stood there stunned, her gaze fixed on the door and her mind transformed her surroundings and suddenly she was her 17 year old self.  It was evening and a light drizzle pattered on her window.  Grace momentarily watched the drops dance down the window as she stirred her secret barbecue sauce on the stove.  The aroma delightfully overwhelmed her nose as she stirred in the rest of the jalapeno and turned the heat down to the lowest of simmers.  She looked around her newly acquired apartment and smiled as she waited for her first housewarming guests.  The light on the table gave the room a soft yellow hue that was both warm and relaxing.  The linens were newly obtained and pressed.  Every utensil, cup, napkin, and plate perfectly positioned for three.  Grace took a moment to bask in the glow of her excitement.  Finishing the sauce, Grace dished the food over to serving bowls and trays.  Putting the vast spread across the table, it looked as though it had been set for a king.  There was nothing left to do except wait for her parents to arrive.  Her parents were two of the most supportive people.  They had helped move Grace into the apartment.  Between her job and starting college in a week Grace was grateful to have time for her parents.  Glancing at the clock, Grace realized that her parents were already past due.  She checked her watch again to be sure and was immediately relieved to hear the knock on the door.  Grace took her apron off, and quick went to put it away in her kitchen drawer.  She put her hand on the glassy doorknob, exhaled slowly to calm her heart racing with joy, and opened the door.  Instead of her parents standing on the other side, Grace was face to face with a police officer.
"Excuse me ma'am, is your name Grace Potter?"
"Yes," Grace managed to say, barely audible.
"There was a car accident 3 miles west of here on route 6.  It appears that your parents Lilian and Jacob Potter were hit on the drivers side by an inebriated individual.  The impact immediately killed your mother.  Your father stated that they were both on their way here moments before--"
"My father," Grace cut in saying, "which hospital is he being taken to?"
"I am truly sorry ma'am, but that is what your father said moments before his last exhale.  He was announced dead upon the ambulance's arrival.  It was in that moment that we started tracking you down.  We got to you as quickly as we could."
"H-how could this happen?" she muttered.
"A drunk driver ran the light..."  Whatever the gentlemen said after this Grace would never know.
Her surroundings instantaneously became a blur. Grace braced the door frame as she could no longer comprehend the coherent words leaving the officer's mouth.  She could only remember the exchange of information of some kind.  Dazed, Grace shut the door, turned off the stove, curled up on her soft leather couch, and the world as she knew it ascended into darkness.  If it had not been for her neighbor, Michael, she would have never made it back from the night which had the worst storm known to her memory.

Another knock on the door brought her back to present day.

"Anyone home?" inquired the male voice.  Grace was still.  A man on the other side of her door.  Could it have been a mistake?  "Coming" Grace managed to spit out in an exasperated voice as she quick ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make herself look somewhat presentable.

She was now standing on the opposite side of the door and she smelled something familiar.  Her hand went for the doorknob and after a deep breath was released, she opened it.    There was something about him that drew her to him.  Grace immediately felt as though she had to be wherever this man was and go wherever this man went.  This disturbed Grace, but only for a moment.  The presence of this man made her calm, collected, and relaxed.  All of these were feelings that she had not felt in a very long time.  There stood a man with the most haunting and beautiful golden eyes.  His hair was brown and messy.  The stranger wore an overcoat.  Grace, with eyes transfixed mainly on the gentleman's face, knew that he smelled familiar.  Grace pried her eyes from his face and looked into his hands--pizza!  How did her nose miss out on the deliciousness placed in his hands?  She recognized the familiar odor of tomato sauce smothered with melted cheese.  He was indeed the stranger from earlier.
"Hello."  The stranger stated again.
Grace swore that his voice sounded like a long forgotten melody that intertwined hope, despair, and longing.
"Hello," Grace said in a quest voice, " I am truly sorry for running into you earlier."
"Not a problem.  It was in fact lucky for me that you had."
"Oh?"
"I had a pizza delivery for this building and would never have found this small alley with its hidden entrance if you hadn't bumped into me.  Now that I am here at apartment 9a, here is your pizza...um...Ms.?"
"Grace.  There is no need for the 'Ms.'  The only problem is that I never ordered a pizza."
"Well, it was clearly meant for your apartment, your address is printed on the box.  You may as well take it since it is already paid for."
"Thank you--" There was a pause.  Grace was fishing for his name, because she realized he had never spoken it. The stranger picked up on this fact and jumped in with
"Destan.  My name is Destan."
"I do not mean to impose Destan, but would you mind setting the pizza on my counter top?"
"Not at all."  Destan stepped over the threshold of her doorway.  As he walked over to her kitchen she noticed a hunch underneath his coat.  " I like your place."
Grace wasn't sure whether he was making fun of her or not.  Destan turned around and had a smile on his face.  The smile was not only contagious, but it sent tingles that spread over her entire body relaxing it.  He was most definitely not making fun of her she decided.

Fallen From Grace (Installment Two)

Grace turned off the water and watched the suds spin away.  The gurgle noises were loud as the last bit was sucked down into nothingness. She walked over to what little counter space she had and grabbed the rags.  Tenderly, she dried each dish and neatly stacked each one on top of her dormitory refrigerator.  Noises rumbled in Grace's stomach.  She opened her fridge, careful not to knock anything over.  It wasn't often that she could keep her klutzy nature dormant.  After the door was opened, Grace realized that moment that only baking soda resided on the bottom shelf hugging the back wall.  Money.  Where was her money?  Grace looked around her private bank she liked to call 'secret hiding spot'!  Reaching underneath her sink, she finds her glass jar.  One hundred dollars was all she had left. 
With ten dollars in her jean pocket, she found her keys and made her way to the door.  It opened with a sound longing for some oil and off she went down the rotting stairs.  Reaching the bottom, she made big strides with her long slender legs to the front door and exited to the ally.  The aroma of fresh baked bread overwhelmed Grace's nose.  Around the corner was the distinct lure of her most favorite bakery.  Grace went on her way towards the mom and pop owned shop.  A melodious bell rung as she opened the door. Grace gave the same quaint smile she always gave to the woman behind the counter, who immediately gave Grace her usual order of sourdough bread, milk, and a copy of the local paper.  The woman, always kind, gave it to Grace for $5.00 even.  Grace always appreciated this gesture.  Grace thanked the woman and walked towards the exit.  As she went to exit, Grace was doing her usual multitasking.  She swung the door open and on her way out attempted to thrust her change into her pocket and bumped into someone.  She kept her eyes on the ground and muttered sorry.  As she hurried away, she smelled the melted cheese and tomato sauce smothering the pizza that they stranger was carrying.  Pizza.  She didn't recall any pizzeria in the area.  Shrugging off the thought she continued on her way. 
Back up the ally she went and into the door.  Grace climbed up all the stairs to reach the 5th floor apartment.  She looked at her rusted number 9a  and walked inside.  Her green and white stripped lawn chair welcomed her into it and she set her bread , milk, and paper onto her deluxe card board box table.  It was time to do some job hunting.  She opened her bag and noticed that the woman also threw in a small amount of butter.  The woman always took care of Grace in making sure that she was fed.  She ripped off a piece of  bread and applied some butter.  Shoving it into her mouth, she opened the paper and looked in the job listings.  Nothing.  Again.  She had no qualifications for any of the listings.  Not a surprise since every job wants a 4 year college degree, to which Grace did not have.  College never mattered to Grace, it was experience in a job that mattered to her, but she didn't have that either if you didn't count the fast food.  Grease, acne, and french fries don't get you very much of anywhere.  Except that perhaps the french fries kept her stomach from yelling at her too terribly loud. 
Still eating her bread, Grace stood up and walked back over to her window.  The fog had lifted and she felt the warm glow of the sun shining on her face.