Saving Grace

I thought my entire life was coming apart, but I think I just realized that sometimes the thing you think is going to ruin your life is the thing that saves you.

sometimes the thing you think is going to ruin your life is the thing that saves you.

PROSCIUTTO- AND SAGE-WRAPPED DATES (Serves 6) INGREDIENTS 24 fresh sage leaves 12 dates, halved, pits removed 1 pack prosciutto, each slice sliced lengthways down the middle 2 Tablespoons maple syrup Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place a sage leaf on each date half, wrap with prosciutto, place flat side down on a baking sheet. Bake 10 minutes. Brush with maple syrup and serve.

Sometimes not thinking too hard is the easiest thing of all.

saying this to Patrick, “that he misses me. He was clearly discombobulated when he saw me, and he did see me. I am quite certain he knew it was me. But there was also delight. Before he had a chance to check his emotions, I saw delight.” As she speaks, Grace recognizes she still has loyalty; she still cares. This is her husband of over twenty years. Whatever betrayal has happened, whatever infidelities there have been, he is still her husband. She does not want to see him destroyed. They talk for a long time. About everything. And nothing. Hitting traffic in Stamford, Grace reluctantly says good-bye, turning off the highway and taking the back roads. Through Darien, the pretty water town of Rowayton, through Norwalk, Grace delighting in the gorgeous old homes. When she couldn’t get ahold of her by phone days ago, Grace went back to Anne, who arranged this meeting. Emily didn’t want to talk on the phone, she said, but they could meet; she would tell her everything. Past the churches, under the railway tracks, she turns into the pretty village of Southport and pulls up outside the Driftwood Diner. She knows who Emily must be as soon as she walks in, a pretty woman sitting at a table by herself, her face drawn and tired. “Emily?” She nods as Grace sits, orders a coffee, makes small talk,

She doesn’t think, doesn’t worry, has no anxiety. She feels no pressure when she is in her garden. She can weed for hours, losing all sense of time until her back starts to hurt and she remembers all the other things she has to do.

The definition of insanity is doing what you’ve always done and expecting different results.

I just realized that sometimes the thing you think is going to ruin your life is the thing that saves you.

She can't explain why she is choked up. She isn't entirely sure, other than the sweetness of Patrick's familiarity, an aching nostalgia for her youth, a reminder of all that is good, and solid, and stable. All that she once had. All that she has lost. Patrick has grown into a big man. Solid. Imposing. His embrace is all-enveloping, tight, stable. Like being held by a bear. Safe, she thinks. I am safe. And almost immediately after: I have come home.