On Grace by Susie Orman Schnall

instructors. Rosalie is thrilled to finally have a daughter-in-law!”
    “I’m so happy for him. I’ll shoot him an email to congratulate him. Thanks for letting me know.”
    “email? Pick up the phone, Gracie. You kids and your emails. Anyway, gotta run. Love you, darling. Goodbye.”
    Scotty Reynolds and I met in kindergarten when he looked exactly like Dennis the Menace. We lived on the same street and played together every day after school. We stayed best friends all through high school when he looked more like Ricky Schroder, but there was never anything romantic between us. He tried to kiss me once when I was home for winter break sophomore year from Penn. I couldn’t help laughing and was relieved when he started laughing, too. That was the beginning and end of our romance, as I was seeing someone back in Philly and had zero interest in Scotty. We’ve lost touch due to all the normal reasons, but I send him our holiday card each year, and we check in on Facebook occasionally where he now looks more like Brad Pitt. I will always have a very soft spot in my heart for him.
    I start to feel like it’s Grand Central in my kitchen because no more than five minutes have passed when my phone rings again. It’s my sister Eva.
    “Hey, Ev,” I say, as I take a bite of the sandwich I have been trying to eat for the last half hour.
    “Gracie, Mom just told me. I’m so sorry,” she says in the serious voice I recognize from hearing her talk to her celebrity clients about serious things like magazine cover airbrushing gone wrong. She’s a publicist with Farrar and Frank Public Relations, and she takes her job and her clients’ careers very seriously. Being as cynical as I am about the entire Hollywood entertainment industry—that’s what growing up in L.A. will do to you—I think it’s pretty hilarious. But I don’t tell her that. I’m not surprised that my mom hung up with me and called Eva right away. News in our family travels quickly.
    “Thanks, Eva. I really appreciate the call. It sucks, but I’m just trying to figure it all out. I’m having trouble making sense of all my feelings,” I say, trying to chew quietly.
    “I have an idea, and don’t say no, because I know you’re going to say no. Just don’t say anything and promise me you’ll think about it,” she says in the sycophantic voice I recognize from hearing her try to convince her clients to do things like go on Dancing with the Stars .
    “Okay, I won’t say no. What’s your brilliant idea?”
    “I think you should come out to L.A. for a weekend. It will be fabulous. We can go shopping at Fred Segal, get massages at The Peninsula, and eat at fabulous restaurants. The works. Say yes, Gracie. It will be good for your soul, and it will give you some distance so you can sort out your feelings.” I hear the phone in her office ringing in the background.
    “Thanks, Eva. I do appreciate the offer. I just think now isn’t a good time. But I’ll think about it. You sound busy. Go work. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for being a good sister.”
    “I’m all you’ve got, so I’ll just have to do,” she says with a tinge of sadness. “Okay, I understand. Take care, Gracie. I love you.”
    I could barely say goodbye as her last few words register in my mind. Eva is all I’ve got in the sister department, and she has been since I was fourteen and she was seventeen. Our middle sister, Danielle, died when she was sixteen. Her boyfriend, Brad, was driving her home from a high school football game when their car was struck by a drunk driver who was going sixty in a thirty-mph zone and ran a stop sign. Brad sustained serious injuries but healed. At least his body did. He was never the same, and from what I hear from mutual friends, he still isn’t. My sister was ejected through the front window, and she died instantly when her head landed on the curb.
    I can still remember the doorbell ringing late in our house that night and hearing my mom