Read Grace: a Cinderella Story :: Chapter Two Part One

Chapter Two Jack was glad Ella was attending the baseball game. She had been even gloomier than usual lately, and he thought she needed an outing. He realized she seemed a little bored during the games, but that was because she didn’t really understand baseball. If she did, she’d realize how exhilarating the game actually was. Of course, whenever he tried to tell her about the game’s history or explain the scoring system, Ella seemed to tune out pretty quickly, but once she really gave it a chance, he knew she’d enjoy it just as much as he did. Every day, Jack walked to the baseball field. It was not at all far from his home, and walking gave him a preworkout before the actual workout he endured on the field. The field was a mile and a half away from his house, which was his childhood home he still resided in, along with his parents, brother and three pitbulls. Jack had a routine: come home, put down his backpack, play with the dogs for ten minutes, eat, shower and go to bed. It was a simple life, but fulfilling enough. He only wished for the big leagues, and Ella. There was a photo of him and Ella at prom on his wall, among the baseball and music posters. His bedroom housed a bed, a bookcase containing books he never read with trophies on top, a dresser with a TV on the top and random trash he’d collected and hadn’t yet had energy to throw away. Jack returned home from practice, excited for the next day’s game, and flopped down at the dinner table. “And what makes you think I’m planning on feeding you today?” Jack’s mother, Maryann Davidson, questioned. “Is your favorite son not worthy of a meal today?” Jack responded. “Daniel isn’t even at the table yet,” Maryann told him, referring to his younger brother. “I’m here,” Daniel announced himself, entering the room. In eleventh grade, Daniel was quite a bit shorter than most of the boys his age. He had tried to counteract this by exercising with the dedication of a professional strongman, resulting in a very muscular physique. Maryann placed the dishes on the table, and Jack was quick to help himself. He paid $300 a month in rent to his parents which, in his mind, also covered meals. Jack dreamed of the day he’d make it to the big leagues, and maybe even move to America, where he would make more money than anyone he knew could ever even dream of. He would support his family entirely, and they’d never worry about money… ⧫ “I’m not really entirely sure what to do with this information,” Ella told Lon, slightly sheepish. “Are you saying you, Ella Tremaine, don’t know something?” Lon feigned shock. Ella rolled her eyes. “Are we supposed to call the cops or something?” she continued. Lon sighed. “I don’t know. Probably. We’ll call Mrs. Dhar first. If she doesn’t want us to, she can pay us some additional fees for confidentiality.” “Isn’t that extortion?” “Nah. I’m fairly certain we have the right to maintain confidentiality for our clients. Lawyers do.” “Neither of us are lawyers.” “Well, shrinks do, too, and we’re kind of like shrinks.” “In what way?” “Well, we listen to their problems, provide solutions-Aren’t you the one who crashed my car, anyway?” “I was rammed into while parked at a gas station,” Ella corrected him. “Well, we’re booked up this week, so you’re going to have to go on your day off.” “Fine,” Ella mumbled. “Will you call Mrs. Dhar, please?” It didn’t take long for a rather frazzled-looking Mrs. Dhar to arrive. Ella felt sorry for her; not only was she about to discover her husband had definitely been cheating on her, but she was also about to find out about his recreational cocaine usage. Ella suspected Mrs. Dhar might have at least some idea that he was using something illicit, based on his recent behavior; she also might have chalked up his strange behavior entirely to infidelity, however, so Ella wasn’t entirely certain. Lon greeted Mrs. Dhar in his usual over-the-top, falsely sympathetic way, and she sat down warrily on the other side of his desk. “You’ve emailed Ella, my assistant--she was actually the one to uncover the information for you. We’re terribly sorry this stage of our investigation took so long, Mrs. Dhar, but we wanted to be absolutely certain of what we are about to tell you.” “He’s cheating on me, isn’t he?” Mrs. Dhar sniffled. Ella glanced at Lon. “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that--Ella, would you like to begin showing Madame the photos?” Ella, for once hesitant, placed the first photo of Mr. Dhar and the woman on the desk in front of Mrs. Dhar. It was one of the ones she had already sent through email. “Are you sure this is the woman he’s sleeping with?” Mrs. Dhar questioned. “Yes ma’am, I’m afraid it is,” Lon responded. “But she’s the pastor’s wife,” Mrs. Dhar explained. Ella nearly walked out the room. “Would you continue exhibiting the evidence, please?” Lon instructed Ella, not missing a beat. Ella began placing photos down in front of Mrs. Dhar, one after the other: the couple eating together in the restaurant, them at the playground, them driving around, them in the rooftop bar with the other man and, finally, them in the house with the other man with Mr. Dhar’s car parked out front and the woman on Mr. Dhar’s lap. “Do you know that man?” Ella asked Mrs. Dhar, pointing to the mystery man whose house the couple was at. “No,” Mrs. Dhar answered quietly. Ella put down the photo of the woman on Mr. Dhar’s lap, lips locked with his. Mrs. Dhar was audibly crying and shaking, and appeared to be about to leave. “There’s more,” Ella mumbled. Mrs. Dhar looked at her questioningly. “Has your husband been acting strange lately?” Lon asked. “Um,” Mrs. Dhar began. “I don’t know. Yes. That’s why I thought he was cheating on me to begin with. He’s been hiding his phone, and coming home late…” “Has his behavior been a little erratic lately?” “Erratic? I don’t know, I don’t think so. He’s been a little fidgety, but he probably feels guilty-” Mrs. Dhar’s voice cracked. Ella slowly put down the photo of Mr. Dhar and the pastor’s wife snorting cocaine off the coffee table in front of them. Mrs. Dhar’s eyes went wide. “That--that can’t be!” Mrs. Dhar stammered. “He wouldn’t--we have two kids! There must be some mistake! It can’t be--” Mrs. Dhar was falling out of her chair. Ella pushed her upright, and she slumped forward over the desk. Ella moved the print-outs out of the way, so they wouldn’t get wet or creased. Lon looked at Ella with an eyebrow raised. Ella shrugged. She stood in silence for a few moments, waiting for instruction from Lon. Eventually, Mrs. Dhar pushed herself upright and stood up. Ella gave her a half-smile, then mentally kicked herself. She was terrible with these types of social interactions. “Thank you,” Mrs. Dhar said shakily, making her way to the door. “I’ll mail you a check…” Lon followed Mrs. Dhar out the door, ever the opportunist. Ella sat down at her desk, shook her head, and started looking through the pending cases. Eventually, Lon made his way back inside, a teary Mrs. Dhar driving off. He sighed. “We’ll have to send the photo to the police.” “All right,” Ella acknowledged. “I’ll email it over. I think I might start staking out that house with the lady with the broken femur that the insurance company wanted us to look at…” When Ella awoke the next morning, she felt as though all the breath had been sucked out of her. She quickly set to cleaning the house and preparing breakfast, but she felt like the fight had been knocked out of her completely. What was even worse was that Lacey Tremaine seemed to notice the difference, and took advantage of it. “I’ll need you to clean all the drapes tonight,” Lacey announced. “Fine,” Ella acquiesced. It was a time-consuming task that would keep her up after a day of working and attending Jack’s baseball game, but she hadn’t the energy to argue. What would be the point in arguing, anyway? Ella wondered, shaking her head as Lacey sipped her coffee, satisfied with Ella’s surrender. Ella waited outside the house of what she had dubbed “Femur Lady” for hours, without any sign of the woman. The curtains were drawn and the car remained in the driveway. Ella sat in Lon’s car with the heat off, so as to not drain the battery; bundled up in a coat and gloves, with a book on FBI lie-detecting techniques on the steering wheel in front of her. She struggled not to nod off. I’m here, Ella texted Jack upon arriving at the baseball game. She noticed his family in the stands near the field, looking enthusiastic, and chose to avoid them. She chose a seat in the back, and sat down unceremoniously to watch the game, or at least pretend to. Jack was thrilled Ella was present, but wished she had sat next to his family. There weren’t any seats available near them, but she could have arrived earlier to ensure they could have sat together. Jack imagined a day when his family would include Ella, and they’d all be in the stands together, watching him play; hopefully, watching him win. He imagined his whole family in the front row seats at a major league game in America, even including a few children in the fantasy. He could only fantasize for now, but he was confident Ella would come around to loving him eventually. After all, he was her only friend, and he was sure there was nothing Ella wouldn’t tell him. There were several things Ella did not tell Jack, both because she felt wary of sharing information with anyone and because she wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to handle it. She thought of Jack as a doting, positive, optimistic friend, but not one who could come close to understanding the struggles she had been through and was currently going through. It was unfortunate, but not really; Jack would meet the woman of his dreams before long, and he’d forget about Ella altogether, she was sure. The Sand Crabs were not victorious, which disappointed Jack, who’d carried most of the game. He had wanted to win, especially since his family and Ella were all in attendance. Still, it was close, and had the rest of the Sand Crabs members been more like him, they likely would have won. After briefly conferring with his family, Jack made his way to Ella, who was still sitting in the stands, shivering slightly. “Would you like a jacket?” Jack asked her, sitting down next to her and grinning widely. Ella looked at him, sweaty and covered in dirt, and shook her head. “I’m okay, thanks,” she told him. “Ah, come on,” Jack said, getting up and gesturing for Ella to follow. Ella apprehensively trailed after Jack, who was walking quite fast up and out of the stands. He ended up purchasing for her a jacket with the name of his team on it and his number on the back. “Thank you,” Ella accepted the jacket graciously. “Of course,” Jack said. “What do you want to do now?” “Aren’t you tired?” Ella asked pointedly. Jack shook his head. “Nah, I’m too pumped up,” he informed her. “Well, are you hungry? We could go to McDonald’s.” “Now that’s an idea,” Jack grinned, throwing his arm around Ella, who had to remind herself that, regardless of how sweaty and dirty he was, it would be rather rude to just thrust his arm off of her. “Although I should probably shower and change first,” he added, wrinkling his nose at himself. Ella sighed in relief. “Go ahead, I’ll wait for you.” Ella started her car while she waited for Jack to finish cleaning up. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes briefly, already exhausted with the day. She didn’t know what was going on with her lately; she felt like she became tired so quickly these days. She suspected it might have something to do with the direction her life was going, but she was overall not sure how to address the issue. Although she had high hopes of getting out of Lacey Tremaine’s house, hopes so high they actually crossed over into desperation, she lacked the ability to look at the details rather than the big picture, and so remained perpetually frustrated with her lot in life. Jack hopped in the passenger seat of Ella’s car and turned the radio to a local sports channel. The commentators were discussing the game Jack had just played in.

“--Odd that his teammates seemed reluctant to pass him the ball,” a male voice commented. “It’s very odd,” another man agreed. “Davidson is one of the best players on the team, maybe even the best, but we’ve watched time and time again as the other Sand Crabs avoid throwing him the ball, even avoiding him and throwing to other players when Davidson is the best option.” Ella glanced over at Jack, who was grimacing. “I can’t understand it,” the previous voice stated. “What is Jonathan Davidson doing to make the other Sand Crabs not want to pass him the ball, even to the point of losing the game in an effort to avoid him?” “Well, it must be something personal, Tom, because it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with the way Davidson plays…” Jack switched the radio to a popular music station, not wanting to hear anymore. “What was that all about?” Ella asked, raising her eyebrows as the two pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot. Jack shook his head. “I thought I was the only one who noticed,” he muttered. “Are they not throwing you the ball?” “Ella, you were watching the game. What do you think?” Ella racked her brain. “Uh, I don’t really know. I don’t really understand baseball that well. I guess it looked normal to me.” “I don’t want to believe that my teammates are deliberately avoiding me,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I thought I was just being paranoid, but now even the local sports channel is noticing it.” The pair sat down at a booth with their meals. “Why would they be trying not to throw you the ball? I don’t understand,” Ella said. Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I think,” he muttered, “they might be racist.” “What?!” Ella exclaimed, eyes wide. “Shh,” Jack shushed her, mumbling, “It’s just a theory… I don’t really know…” “The radio people said you’re the best player on the team,” Ella retorted confidently. “Why else wouldn’t they be throwing you the ball? You fuck one of their girlfriends?” Jack rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky there aren’t any kids nearby,” he told her. “And they said I might be the best player on the team. Not exactly the greatest vote of confidence. I have a friendly rival.” “Would you be the best player if they actually threw you the ball?” “Probably.” “So there you go! They do have some kind of a problem with you, in some regard.” “Listen,” Jack sighed, leaning back. “Every day I walk to and from the baseball field. And do you know what I pass by every day?”