- Home
- Brittainy Cherry
The Gravity of Us Page 15
The Gravity of Us Read online
Page 15
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” Graham started, but it was too late. Toby was helping adjust his hips.
“Relax,” Toby said in his soothing voice. “Relax.”
“It’s hard to relax when a stranger is touching my—” Graham’s eyes widened. “Yup, that’s my penis. You are actually touching my penis,” Graham muttered as the instructor helped him with one of the positions.
I couldn’t stop giggling at how ridiculous and uncomfortable Graham looked. His face was so stern, and when Toby made Graham pop his butt out, I had tears rolling down my cheeks from laughter.
“Okay, class, one final breath. In with the good energies, out with the bad. Namaste.” Toby bowed to us all, and Graham just stayed there, lying on the floor in a pile of sweat, tears, and his manhood.
I kept giggling to myself. “Come on, get up.” I reached down to him, and he took my hand as I pulled him up. As he stood up, he shook his nasty, sweaty hair all over me. “Ew! That’s disgusting.”
With a sly smile, he said, “You made me get touched in public, so you get to enjoy the sweat.”
“Trust me, you’re lucky it’s Toby who touched you instead of the women who are currently gawking at you over in the corner right now.”
He turned to see the women staring his way, waving. “You women and your sex-driven minds,” he joked.
“Says the man who does camel as a sex position. What do you do exactly? Do you just sit on your knees and like”—I thrust my hips—“do this repeatedly?” I kept making the humping motion, which turned Graham’s face even redder than it had been during the class.
“Lucille.”
“Yes?”
“Stop humping the air.”
“I would, but your embarrassment is too rewarding right now.” I laughed. He was so easily humiliated, and I knew being around me in public would be awful for him. I’d take every opportunity to make myself look like a fool. “Okay, so needless to say, hot yoga isn’t your thing.”
“Not at all. If anything, I feel more stressed out, and a pinch violated,” he joked.
“Well, let me try a few more things to see if they help you.”
He cocked an eyebrow as if he could read my mind. “You’re going to sage my house, aren’t you? Or put crystals on my windowsills?”
“Oh yeah.” I nodded. “I’m going to weird hippie the crap out of your house, and then you’re going to help me in the garden.”
I spent the next few weeks out in the backyard, teaching Graham the ins and outs of gardening. We planted fruits, vegetables, and beautiful flowers. I made lines of sunflowers that would look so beautiful as they grew tall over time. In one corner of the yard was a stone bench, which would be perfect for morning energy meditations and great as an afternoon reading corner. I surrounded it with beautiful flowers that would light up the area—Peruvian lilies, nepeta faasseniis, coreopsis, forget-me-nots, and gloriosa daisies. The colors would be beautiful mixed together. The pinks, blues, yellows, and purples would add a pop of color to Graham’s life, that was for sure.
As the baby monitor started going off, Graham stood up from the dirt. “I’ll get her.”
Only a few minutes passed before I heard him shouting my name.
“LUCILLE!”
I sat up in the dirt, alarmed by the urgency in Graham’s shout.
“LUCILLE, HURRY!”
I shot up to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest, dirt across my face, and I sprinted into the house. “What is it?!” I hollered back.
“In the living room! Hurry!” he shouted once more.
I ran, terrified about what I was about to witness, and when I made it into the space, my heart landed in my throat as I wrapped my hands over my mouth. “Oh my gosh,” I said, my eyes watering over as I looked at Talon.
“I know, right?” Graham said, smiling at his daughter. For a long time, he’d tried his best to hold in his grins, but he hadn’t been able to lately. The more Talon laughed and smiled, the more she opened Graham’s heart.
He was holding Talon in his arms, feeding her.
Well, he wasn’t feeding her—she was feeding herself, holding the bottle in her own hands for the first time.
My heart exploded with excitement.
“I was feeding her, and she wrapped her hands around the bottle and started to hold it herself,” he told me, his eyes wide with pride.
As we cheered her on, Talon started giggling and spat milk into Graham’s face, making us both laugh. I grabbed a cloth and wiped the milk from his cheek.
“She amazes me every day,” he said, staring at his daughter. “It’s too bad that Jane…” He paused. “That Lyric is missing out on it. She has no clue what she left behind.”
I nodded in agreement. “She’s missing everything. It’s just sad.”
“What was it like, growing up together?” he asked.
I was a bit surprised—we’d spent months together and he hadn’t once asked me any questions about my sister.
I sat on the couch beside him and shrugged. “We moved around a lot. Our mom was a bit of a floater, and when my dad couldn’t take any more, he left us. Lyric was older and noticed more issues than Mari and I did. Every day with my mother felt like a new adventure. The lack of a real home never bothered me because we had each other, and whenever we needed something, some kind of miracle would happen.
“But Lyric didn’t see it that way. She was very much like our father—grounded. She hated not knowing where our next meal would come from. She hated that sometimes Mama would give what little money we did have to help out a friend in need. She hated the instability of our lives, so when she’d finally had enough, when she could no longer take the person Mama was, she did exactly as our father had—she left.”
“She’s always been a runner,” he stated.
“Yes, and a part of me wants to hate her for how distant and cold she became, but another part understands. She had to grow up fast, and in a way, Lyric wasn’t wrong. Our mother was kind of a child herself, which meant we didn’t have much parenting growing up. Lyric felt as if she had to take on that role and parent her parent.”
“Which is why she probably never wanted kids,” he said. “She’d already done the parent role.”
“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t forgive her actions at all, but it makes them more understandable.”
“I think I could tell when I met her that she was a runner. Also, I’m certain she could tell I was cold, that I’d never once ask her to stay.”
“Do you miss her?” I asked, my voice low.
“No,” he answered quickly, no hesitation whatsoever. “She and I were never in love. We had an unspoken agreement that if one was ever ready to go, they were free to do so. The marriage arrangement was just something she thought would help her advance in her career.
“We were simply roommates who happened to have sex sometimes. Before Talon, it would’ve been fine if she left. It would’ve been completely acceptable. Hell, I was somewhat surprised she stayed as long as she did. I wouldn’t have cared, but now…” He smiled down at Talon as she burped for him, and then he laid her on the blanket on the floor. “Now I call her each night, asking her to come back, not for me, but for our daughter. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother, and I’d never want that for Talon.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault. Anyway, how’s the garden?”
“Perfect. It’s perfect. Thank you again for the gift. It means more to me than you could imagine.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m guessing you’re gone this weekend, for the holiday?” He climbed from the couch onto the floor and started playing peekaboo with Talon, which made my heart do cartwheels.
“I was supposed to be, but it turns out I’m spending the holiday alone.”
“What? Why?”
I explained that Mari would be out of town, and that I normally made the trip up north but didn’t want to do the drive alone.
“You should
come to Professor Oliver’s house with Talon and me,” Graham offered.
“What? No. No, it’s really okay.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hello? Professor Oliver, how are you?”
“Graham, no!” I whisper-shouted, reaching out my arm to stop him, but he stood up and wouldn’t allow me to grab the phone.
“Good, I’m good.” Pause. “No, I’m not trying to back out. I’m calling to see if you could add another chair to your table. It appears Lucille was going to sit in her apartment for Easter and cry into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and while I think that’s a completely normal thing to do, I thought I’d see if you could host her at your place.”
Another long pause.
Graham smiled.
“Very well. Thank you, Professor Oliver. We’ll see you this weekend.” He hung up and turned my way. “They are having a brunch at one. It will be us, Professor Oliver and Mary, and their daughter, Karla, and her fiancée, Susie. You should bring a dish.”
“I cannot believe you did that!” I hollered, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and tossing it at him. He smiled even more.
God, that smile.
If he had smiled more often before, I was certain Lyric would’ve never been able to leave his side.
He picked up the pillow and threw it back at me, making me fall backward onto the couch. “We can drive over there together. I can pick you up from your house.”
“Perfect.” I grabbed the pillow and threw it back at him. “Dress code?”
He tossed it at me one last time and bit his bottom lip, allowing the small dimple in his right cheek to appear. “Anything you wear will be good enough for me.”
I arrived at Lucy’s house to pick her up for Easter brunch, and when she walked down the apartment staircase, I sat in the driver seat of my car. Talon babbled, and I nodded once. “Exactly.” Lucy looked beautiful. She was wearing a yellow dress with tulle underneath the skirt that made it flare out. Her makeup was sparse except for the apple red lipstick that matched her high heels. Her hair was braided up with daisies threaded throughout, like a crown.
I stepped out of the car and hurried to the passenger side to open the door for her. She smiled my way with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a dish to pass in her other.
“Well, aren’t you just dapper looking.” She smirked.
“Just a suit and tie,” I said, taking the dish from her. I walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door, placing the dish on the seat.
As I climbed back into the driver’s seat, I closed the door and glanced once at Lucy. “You look beautiful.”
She laughed and patted her hair before smoothing out her dress. “You’re not wrong, sir.”
We drove to Professor Oliver’s home, and when we arrived, I introduced Lucy to Ollie’s daughter, Karla, and her fiancée, Susie.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lucy,” Karla said as we walked into the house. “I would say I’ve heard a lot about you, but you know Graham—the guy doesn’t talk,” she joked.
“Really?” Lucy asked sarcastically. “I can’t get the guy to ever shut up.”
Karla laughed, took Talon from my arms, and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, he’s a real loud mouth, that one.”
Karla was the closest thing I’d ever had to a sister, and we argued like it, too. As a kid, she had been in and out of the foster program and had found herself in a lot of trouble with drugs and alcohol. I never knew her back then, though. When I came across her, she had already kind of figured out life. She was this beautiful African American woman who was a strong activist for kids who have no place to call home.
Professor Oliver and Mary wouldn’t give up on her when she was a teenager, and Karla always said because of that, something changed in her heart. Not many kids would be asked to be adopted at the age of seventeen, yet Oliver and Mary wouldn’t let her go.
They had that skill about them—seeing people’s scars and calling them beautiful.
“Here, I’ll take that dish,” Susie offered, taking Lucy’s tray from her. Susie was also a stunning person. She was a beautiful Asian woman who fought hard for women’s rights. If ever there was a couple destined for a true love story, it was Karla and Susie.
I was never a people person, but these people were good.
Like Lucy.
Just wholeheartedly good people who didn’t ask for anything but love.
When we walked into the kitchen, Mary was there, cooking, and she hurried over, giving me a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Talon and Lucy. “You’ve been requested to join Ollie in his office, Graham. You were supposed to bring him new chapters of your book to read, and he’s waiting,” Mary said. I glanced over at Lucy, and Mary laughed. “Don’t worry about her, she’ll fit right in. We’ll take good care of her.”
Lucy smiled, my heart expanded, and then I headed to Professor Oliver’s office.
He sat at his desk reading the newest chapters I’d presented to him, and I waited impatiently as his eyes darted back and forth. “I took out the lion,” I told him.
“Shh!” he ordered, going back to reading. Every now and then he made facial expressions as he flipped the pages, but mostly, nothing. “Well,” he said, finishing and placing the papers down. “You didn’t have sex?”
“No.”
“And no cocaine?”
“Nope.”
“Well.” He sat back in his chair in disbelief. “That’s shocking, because whatever it is that made you step up your game, it’s mind-blowing. This…” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is the best work you’ve ever written.”
“Are you shitting me?” I asked with a knot in my stomach.
“I shit you not. Best thing I’ve read in years. What changed?”
I shrugged my shoulders and stood up from the chair. “I started gardening.”
“Ah.” He smiled knowingly. “Lucy Palmer happened.”
“So, Karla, I owe you fifty dollars,” Oliver stated, coming to the dining room table for brunch after we finished talking shop in his office. He straightened his tie and sat down at the head of the table. “You were right about Graham—he still knows how to write. Turns out he’s not a twenty-seven-book wonder.”
Lucy chuckled, and it sounded beautiful. “You bet against Graham’s words?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you read his last draft?!”
She grimaced. “What was the deal with the lion?”
“I know, right!” he hollered, nodding in agreement. “That freaking lion!”
“Okay, okay, we get it, I suck. Can we move on with the conversation?” I asked.
Lucy nudged me in the arm. “But the lion.”
“It was hideous,” Professor Oliver agreed.
“Poorly written.”
“Weird.”
“Odd.”
“Complete trash,” the two said in unison.
I rolled my eyes. “My God, Lucille, you’re like the female version of Oliver—my worst nightmare.”
“Or your favorite dream come true,” Professor Oliver mocked, wiggling his eyebrows in a knowing way. What he knew—hell if I could tell. He reached across the table for bacon, and Karla slapped his hand.
“Dad, no.”
He groaned, and I welcomed the change in subject. “A few pieces of bacon won’t kill me, darling. Plus, it’s a holiday.”
“Yeah, well, your heart doesn’t know it’s a holiday, so keep to the turkey bacon Mom made for you.”
He grimaced. “That’s not bacon.” He smiled over at Lucy and shrugged his shoulders. “You have a mini heart attack once and three minor heart surgeries, and people take that stuff so seriously for the rest of your life,” he joked.
Mary smiled over at her husband and patted his hand with hers. “Call us overprotective, but we just want you around forever. If that includes you hating us for forcing you to eat turkey bacon”—she put three strips onto his plate—“so be it.”
“Touché, tou
ché.” Professor Oliver nodded, biting into the non-bacon bacon. “I can’t really blame you all. I’d want to be forever surrounded by me, too.”
We spent the rest of brunch laughing with one another, exchanging embarrassing stories, and sharing memories. Lucy listened to everyone’s words with such grace, asking questions, wanting more details, fully engaging in the conversations. I adored that about her, how she was such a people person. She made every room fill with light whenever she entered the space.
“Lucy, we’re so happy you joined us today. Your smile is contagious,” Mary said as we finished up the afternoon. We all sat at the dining room table, stuffed and enjoying the good company.
Lucy smiled wide and smoothed out her dress. “This has truly been amazing. I would’ve just been sitting at home lonely.” She laughed.
“You don’t normally spend holidays alone, do you?” Karla questioned with a frown.
“Oh, no. I’m always with my sister, but this year an old friend of hers is back in the States for such a short period of time, so she went to visit her. Normally Mari and I go up to a friend’s cabin to visit my mother’s tree every holiday.”
“Her tree?” Susie asked.
“Yeah. After my mom passed away years ago, we planted a tree to honor her memory, taking a life and making it grow, even after death. So, each holiday we go, eat licorice—Mama’s favorite candy—and sit around the tree, listening to music and breathing in the earth.”
“That’s so beautiful.” Karla sighed. She turned to Susie and slapped her in the arm. “When I die, will you plant a tree in my memory?”
“I’ll plant a beer—seems more fitting,” Susie replied.
Karla’s eyes widened and she leaned in to kiss Susie. “I’m going to marry you so hard in three months, woman.”
Lucy’s eyes widened with joy. “When are you two getting married?”
“Fourth of July weekend, the weekend we met,” Karla said, giddy. “We were going to wait until next year, but I can’t wait any longer.” She turned to Professor Oliver, smiling wide. “I just need my papa to walk me down the aisle and give me away to my love.”