Turning Grace (The Turning Series, Book 1) Read online



  Turning Grace

  by

  J.Q. Davis

  Copyright © 2014 by JoAnna Quintana-Davis

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by IndieDesignz.com.

  To Discovering Who You Truly Are,

  And Embracing It.

  Prologue

  “So, is she cured, Mark?”

  “Well, her condition was one that could have taken a really bad turn at any point in time. It did, but we managed to overcome it. Being that she is only five years old, you know children can be quite resilient when it comes to illness. It seems that she will make a full recovery.”

  “Oh, thank goodness! Thank you so much for all that you have done.”

  “You are quite welcome, Eve. She will be able to be discharged as soon as we get some paperwork signed off by you and your husband. You know the drill.”

  My husband… I have not seen him for the past two weeks. “Um, well Jack is out of town at the moment. It will just be me signing.”

  “Very well. Nurse Julie will have the papers for you.”

  I could not wait to get my baby home. It had been such a long two weeks. How could this have happened to my little Gracie? I almost lost her. I did lose her. Now she is cured and she needs to be home with her toys and Lucy. Oh, I just knew she missed her little puppy.

  When I walked back into the hospital room my little Gracie was in, I fought back the tears. Her tiny body was lying motionless, asleep…on a bed that looked ten sizes too big for her. The nurse had already pulled out what seemed to be a hundred different tubes from her arms, mouth, and nose. Although it should not have been anything new to see, it was heartbreaking. Seeing patients in similar situations was one thing, but when it’s your little girl lying there, helpless, it was a different story.

  The nurse was waiting with papers for me to sign.

  “Dr. Manning, should anything go wrong, just give us a call and bring her right back.”

  “Thank you so much, Julie. You have truly been a wonderful nurse to my Gracie.” I swallowed back a few tears and squeezed her hand in mine before letting go.

  “Oh, Dr. Manning, you are very welcome. Grace is a sweet little angel,” Julie said as she pulled the last IV out of Gracie’s arm.

  I didn’t want to have to wake her. After the papers were signed, I ran to get the car while the nurses helped her to a wheelchair and met me downstairs. We laid her down in the back seat and she slept all the way home. I knew that she was still a bit groggy from all the medications she was given throughout the two-week stay. I just couldn’t wait to get her home, in her comfortable bed and around all of her familiar surroundings.

  Once home, I carried her to bed, tucked her in, and she fell right back to sleep a minute later. Lucy jumped into the bed with her and Gracie instantly wrapped her arms around her. I desperately wanted her to be herself again, running around in her normal manner. Bright-eyed and long curls dancing around her face. She was such a delight. She was so fun-loving and smiling all the time. For the past two weeks, she had been so sick with fever and fatigue that I had forgotten how lovely her smile was. I was confident that she would be herself again; it would just take some time.

  I thought about making homemade soup for her while she slept. My grandmother made it, my mother made it, and my sister had just recently taught me how to make it. It was basically every vegetable you can think of, boiled in chicken broth and noodles. Every winter, my mother would make a large pot, and any sniffles or coughs were instantly remedied before we could even finish a bowl. It could quite possibly cure the common cold, if you asked me.

  I was sure I had everything I needed. Carrots, potatoes, onions, spinach... I was never the best cook, and Gracie was really hard to please. For being so young, she was a very picky eater. I just stuck to the normal foods kids her age ate. Chicken nuggets for dinner, Goldfish crackers for snacks. She was deathly afraid of vegetables, though. I often tried to hide it in her foods, but she managed to figure it out. She had a long life ahead of her, I knew one day she would open up and try different things.

  It was so quiet in the house. I was not used to this. Gracie was always playing with noisy toys and Jack would have the television blaring with a football game.

  Jack. I couldn’t think about him at that moment. I had to concentrate on getting this soup made for my Gracie. I began prepping.

  Ring Ring Ring

  Right as the phone rang, it startled me and I nicked my index finger while cutting the vegetables. “Shit!” It didn’t look too deep. I wrapped a paper towel around it and ran for the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, hi honey. You’re home. Good. I am going to come see Gracie tomorrow. Is she doing okay?” It was my sister. She and I got along really well. She was a great aunt to Gracie and Gracie adored her. When she received the devastating news that she could never bear children of her own, she became very close to her only niece.

  “Hi, Megan. She is doing really well,” I said. “You can come by tomorrow. I know she will love that.”

  After about five minutes of leisure conversation, we ended the call. My finger began to throb, but I paid no mind. I had to get this soup done before Gracie awoke.

  When the soup was finished, I went to check on Gracie. She was still sound asleep. I fixed myself a bowl, watched a little TV, and realized I should get some sleep myself. I decided to sleep on the couch, just in case Gracie needed me in the middle of the night. Our living room was situated in the middle of the house, with Gracie’s room on one side, and my and Jack’s room on the other.

  As I dozed off, I could not help but think about Jack. Why hadn’t he called? How could he just leave me with a sick child to go on a business trip? Normally, his business trips lasted about a week, sometimes a week and a half. The last time we spoke was four days ago, and I begged him to come back home to be with Gracie and I. He said he would call me back. He never did. Was he seeing someone else? I guess I could be blamed as well. Our relationship was on the rocks. His job seemed more important and he never slowed down after Grace was born. Although I had put my own career on hold to raise Grace, I guess I could have appreciated him bringing home the bread.

  Just as my mind cleared and sleep was setting in, I was suddenly awoken by a sharp pain. I opened my eyes to complete darkness. The television must have been on a timer. Jack would often times fall asleep out here, mostly during our frequent fights.

  As I began to shift a little to get comfortable, pressure radiated from my hand, followed by an intense throbbing. I lifted it up to my face, but could not see a thing. I sat up on the couch and leaned over to switch the table lamp on. When I turned back around, Gracie was standing at the corner of the couch with blood smeared all over her mouth.

  “Gracie!” I yelled. “Oh my God, are you okay sweetheart?” I grabbed her and began searching everywhere I could to find a wound or som
e part of her body that was bleeding.

  “Gracie! What is it? Where are you hurt?” I asked her frantically.

  I could see in her eyes that she was completely frightened by my yelling. She stood still for a moment, then lifted her finger and pointed to the white quilt that was covering me. I looked down and nearly fainted when I saw that it was covered in blood. At that moment, the pain seemed to have gone from about a five to a hundred and five. I let go of her and as I grabbed the quilt to pull it off, I noticed that my left hand was drenched in blood. It took a minute for my mind to focus on something other than the crimson red when finally, I realized that my index finger was no longer there.