After finding out that he impregnated her, Avery beats Grace, his girlfriend, and she runs away from him.
Grace’s pregnancy makes her crave lemonade, and when she passes a girl with a lemonade stand, they begin to talk. Coincidentally, she learns that the girl’s name, as well as her mother’s name, is also Grace, Grace White. This name brings back memories from the young ladies past when her foster mother’s name was Grace White.
Is it possible that this girl’s mother is the same woman that parented Grace when she was twelve, and if so, can they be reunited?
She ran from the man, hoping he had not already killed their baby.
Grace had had no idea how Avery would respond to the news of her pregnancy. She knew her boyfriend would not be happy, but she had dared to hope that he would at least understand. After all, it was his baby too.
She had been wrong though, and now, she writhed in pain from the beatings.
“You could have killed it!” she yelled. Her voice echoed through the street.
A few months later, in another part of town, a girl waited…and waited. Still, her lemonade jug was full, untouched. Still, her small piggybank was empty.
It seemed that no one wanted lemonade on this dark, cloudy day. No one wanted to give money for the community’s orphaned children. No one cared it seemed.
Even an old lady walking a small dog had passed by, not giving the girl another look.
Old people were supposed to be the generous ones, but today even they did not want lemonade.
The girl almost decided to stop. She was clearly getting nowhere.
As she was walking that day, Grace felt a craving come over her, one of many she had experienced during the pregnancy.
Lemonade. She needed lemonade. Not a grocery store’s lemonade, but real lemonade like Mrs. White used to make.
Grace turned onto the next street, and saw, with surprised joy, a lemonade stand.
After a long time, the girl decided to pack up her stuff and go back home. Her mother always told her that it wasn’t her success that counted, but her intentions.
Just when she was about to carry the lemonade inside though, a young woman passed by.
“Lemonade! Twenty-five-cents a cup,” the girl called. “It’s homemade!”
“That’s just what I was craving,” the woman said, as she dug into her purse. “Here you go!”
She handed the girl a dollar-bill.
“It’s only twenty-five-cents a cup,” the child said.
“A dollar for refills,” the lady smiled.
The child looked at her oddly.
“What’s your name?” asked the girl.
“Grace,” the woman said.
“Hmmm?” the girl asked, thinking Grace was trying to get her attention.
Grace repeated her name.
“My name’s Grace,” she said. “What’s yours?”
“My name’s Grace too,” the girl said, curiously. “Grace White, same as my aunt.”
Grace mulled over the name in her head.
She recognized it. At twelve years old, the young woman had gone to live with Mrs. Grace White, her third foster mother and the only nice one.
Mrs. White had wanted to adopt her, and they had seemed like a perfect match.
They both had the same first name, and Grace had never known any other woman who loved her like that. Then, Grace had been taken away. Mrs. White had had no choice.
Ever since then, Grace had never had a home so warm. She had never really felt loved again.
She had thought that Avery loved her, but he only wanted to use her. He wanted to be loved, but he didn’t know how to love back. He was just like Grace, fragmented and searching for acceptance.
“Ma’am,” the girl interrupted Grace’s thoughts.
“Can I do anything for you?” she asked. “You look thoughtful.”
“Can I see your aunt?” Grace asked, hoping that possibly she could be the very same Mrs. White who had given Grace shelter those ten years before.
“Sure. Come inside.”
Grace helped the girl gather the cups and jug from off the table, and then the girl led her up the sidewalk to a small house.
Grace had not recognized the house when she had been walking, but now she realized that it was in fact the very same one she had lived in when she was a child.
“Aunty Grace, you’ve got a visitor,” the younger girl called when they got inside.
Her aunt came to the door and stared at the young, pregnant Grace.
“Grace?” her voice cracked, and a puddle of wet tears drowned her eyes. “What a surprise!”
The young mother reached out her arms and hugged Mrs. White, the lady who should have been her mother.
They had both wished for this day many times before, and now it was finally here. They were finally back together again.