The Gravity of Us Page 17

  “With Parker,” Mari said nonchalantly, as if her words weren’t drenched in toxicity.

  My eyes stayed narrowed. “I’m sorry, come again?”

  “A while back, he stopped by Monet’s again when you were out, and I agreed to see him. We’ve been talking for a few months now.”

  Months?!

  “You’re mad.” She grimaced.

  “You lied to me. Since when do we lie to each other?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t approve of me seeing him, but he wanted to talk to me about things.”

  “Talk about things?” I echoed as anger rocketed through me. “What in the world could there be to talk about?” Her head lowered, and she started tracing her shoe in the dirt. “Oh my gosh, he wants to talk about getting back together, doesn’t he?”

  “It’s complicated,” she told me.

  “How so? He walked out on you during the worst time of your life, and now he wants to walk back in during the best.”

  “He’s my husband.”

  “Ex-husband.”

  Her head lowered. “I never signed the papers.”

  My heart shattered.

  “You told me—”

  “I know!” she cried, running her hands through her hair, pacing back and forth. “I know I told you it ended, and it did. Mentally, I was done with my marriage, but physically…I never signed the papers.”

  “You have got to be kidding me, Mari. He abandoned you, when you had cancer.”

  “But still…”

  “No. No ‘but still’. He doesn’t get a pass, and you lied about being divorced! To me! You’re supposed to be my person, Pea. We’re supposed to be able to tell each other everything, and this whole time you’ve been living a lie with me. You know what Mama always said about lying? If you have to lie about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it anyway.”

  “Please don’t quote Mama to me right now, Lucy.”

  “You have to leave him, Mari. Physically, emotionally, mentally. He’s toxic for you. No good is going to come from this.”

  “You have no clue what it’s like to be married!” Her voice heightened. Mari never raised her voice.

  “But I do have a clue what it’s like to be respected! Jesus, I cannot believe you’ve been lying this whole time.”

  “I’m sorry I lied, but if we’re honest, you haven’t been the most honest person lately.”

  “What?”

  “This,” she said, gesturing toward Talon. “This whole Graham thing is weird. Why are you taking care of his kid? She’s obviously old enough for him to take care of himself, or hell, he could hire a nanny. Tell me the truth, why are you still there?”

  My gut tightened. “Mari, that’s not the same thing…”

  “It’s exactly the same thing! You say I’m staying in a loveless marriage because I’m weak and you’re pissed that I lied to you, but you’ve been lying to me, and to yourself. You’re staying with him because you’re falling for him.”

  “Stop it.”

  “You are.”

  My jaw dropped open. “Mari…this, right now, this isn’t about me, or Graham, or anything other than you. You’re making a huge mistake talking to him. It’s not healthy and—”

  “I’m moving back home.”

  “What?!” I exclaimed, shock reverberating through me. I stood up straighter. “That’s not your home. I’m your home. We are each other’s home.”

  “Parker thinks it will be best for us, to work on our marriage.”

  What marriage?! “Mari, he called you after you were in remission for two years. He waited it out to see if the cancer would come back. He’s a snake.”

  “Stop it!” she screamed, shaking her hands back and forth in annoyance. “Just stop. He’s my husband, Lucy, and I’m going home to him.” Her head lowered and her voice cracked. “I don’t want to end up like her.”

  “Like who?”

  “Mama. She died alone, because she never let any man get close enough to love her. I don’t want to die without being loved.”

  “He doesn’t love you, Pea…”

  “But he can. I think if I just change a little, if I just become a better wife…”

  “You were the best wife out there, Mari. You were everything to him.”

  Tears fell from her eyes. “Then why wasn’t I enough back then? He’s giving me another chance, and I can do better this time.”

  It was crazy how fast it happened, how quickly my anger transformed into pure sadness for my sister. “Mari,” I said softly.

  “Maktub,” she said, looking down at the tattoo on her wrist.

  “Don’t do that.” I shook my head, hurting more than she’d ever know. “Don’t take our word and give it some kind of dirty meaning.”

  “It means all is written, Lucy. It means everything that happens was meant to be, not only what you believe to be destined. You can’t only accept the positive in life. You must accept it all.”

  “No. That’s not true. If a bullet is coming toward you and you have enough time to move, you don’t just stand there and wait for it to hit. You step sideways, Mari. You dodge the bullet.”

  “My marriage is not a bullet. It’s not my death. It’s my life.”

  “You’re making a huge mistake,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks.

  She nodded. “Maybe, but it’s my mistake to make, just like it’s yours to make with Graham.” She crossed her arms and shivered as if a chill had found her. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you like this but…I’m glad you know. My lease is up soon, so you’ll have to find a place. Look…we can still go on the hike if you want, to clear our heads.”

  “You know what, Mari?” I grimaced and shook my head. “I’d rather not.”

  The hardest part of life was watching a loved one walk straight into fire when all you could do was sit and watch them as they burned.

  “You’ll stay with us,” Graham said over FaceTime from his hotel room in New York.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll find something. I’ll start searching the minute you get back in two days.”

  “Until then you’ll stay with us, no ifs, ands, or buts. It’s fine. My house is big enough. I’m sorry, though, about Mari.”

  I shivered at the thought of it all, at the idea of her going back to Parker. “I just don’t get it. How can she just forgive him?”

  “Loneliness is a liar,” Graham told me, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he spoke. “It’s toxic and deadly most of the time. It forces people to believe they are better off with the devil himself than being alone, because somehow being alone means a person failed. Somehow being alone means a person isn’t good enough. So, more often than not, the poison of loneliness seeps in and makes a person believe that any kind of attention must stand for love. Fake love that is built on a bed of loneliness will fail—I should know. I’ve been alone all my life.”

  “I hate that you just did that.” I sighed. “I hate that you just took my annoyance with my sister and made me want to go hug her.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. I can call her names if you’d…” His eyes narrowed as he stared at his phone. I noticed the panic in his stare instantly. “Lucille, I have to call you back.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  He hung up before I received a response.

  I was a master of stories.

  I knew how a great novel came to exist.

  A great novel didn’t involve tossing together words that didn’t interconnect. In a great novel, each sentence mattered, each word had a meaning to the overall story arc. There was always forewarning to the plot twists and the different paths the novel would travel down, too. If a reader looked closely enough, they could always witness the warning signs. They could taste the heart of every word that bled on the page, and by the end, their palate would be satisfied.

  A great story always had structure.

  But life wasn’t a great story.

  Real life was a mess of words that sometimes worked, and ot
her times didn’t. Real life was an array of emotions that hardly made sense. Real life was a first draft novel with scribbles and crossed out sentences, all written in crayon.

  It wasn’t beautiful. It came without warning. It came without ease.

  And when the novel of real life came to fuck you up, it made sure to knock the air from your lungs and leave your bleeding heart for the wolves.

  The message was from Karla.

  She tried to call me, but I sent her to voicemail.

  I was looking at Talon.

  She left a voice message, but I ignored it.

  I was staring into Lucille’s eyes.

  She then sent me a text message that made a part of me die.

  Dad’s in the hospital.

  He had another heart attack.

  Please come home.

  I took the next flight home, my hands clenched the whole time, too nervous to take a full breath. When the plane landed, I grabbed the first taxi I could find and rushed to the hospital. Hurrying inside, I felt like my chest was on fire. The burning sensation shook me as I tried to blink away the emotion racing through my veins.

  He must be okay.

  He has to be okay…

  If Professor Oliver didn’t make it through this, I wasn’t certain I’d survive. I wasn’t certain I’d survive if he wasn’t going to always be there for me. When I made it to the waiting room, my eyes fell to Mary and Karla first. Then, I noticed Lucy sitting with Talon sleeping in her lap. How long had she been there? How had she even known? I hadn’t mentioned I was coming back. Every time I’d tried to type out the words, I’d deleted them instantly. If I sent out the words that Professor Oliver had had a heart attack, it would be real. If I’d thought it was real, I would’ve died on the flight home for sure.

  It couldn’t be real.

  He couldn’t die.

  Talon wouldn’t even remember him.

  She needed to remember the greatest man in the world.

  She needed to know my father.

  “How did you know?” I asked Lucy, walking over and gently kissing Talon’s forehead.

  Lucy nodded over to Karla. “She called me. I came right away.”

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I’m okay.” Lucy grimaced, took my hand in hers, and lightly squeezed it. “Are you?”

  I narrowed my eyes and swallowed hard, speaking so low that I wasn’t certain the word actually left my lips. “No.”

  My eyes darted over to Mary and I told Lucy I’d be back. She told me to take all the time I needed. I was thankful for that, for her watching over Talon, for her being there for my daughter and for me while I needed to be there for others.

  “Mary,” I said, calling after her. She looked up and my heart cracked seeing the pain in her stare. Karla’s broken stare cracked my heart once more.

  “Graham,” Mary cried, hurrying over to me.

  I wrapped my arms around her, holding her so close to me. She parted her mouth to say more, but no words came out. She began sobbing uncontrollably, as did her daughter, who I pulled into the tight hug. I held them both against me, trying to convince their shaky bodies that everything would be okay.

  I stood tall like a tree, not shaking because they needed me as their foundation. They needed strength, and I played the role.

  Because that was what he would’ve wanted me to be.

  Brave.

  “What happened?” I asked Mary once she could calm down. I led her to the waiting room chairs, and we sat down.

  Her back was curved as she clasped her fingers together, a little tremble still in her soul. “He was in his office reading, and when I went to check on him…” Her bottom lip started to tremble. “I have no clue how long he was down. If I could’ve gotten there faster…if…”

  “No ifs, just now,” I told her. “You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault, Mary.”

  She nodded. “I know, I know. We’ve been preparing for this day, but I just didn’t think it would come so soon. I thought we had more time.”

  “Preparing?” I asked, confused.

  She grimaced and tried to wipe away her tears, but more continued to fall. “He didn’t want me to tell you…”

  “Tell me what?”

  “He’s been sick for a while, Graham. A few months ago, he was told if he didn’t have surgery, he’d only have a few months before his heart gave out. The surgery was very risky, too, and he didn’t want to do it. Not after all the surgeries he had beforehand. I fought long and hard to get him to do it, but he was too afraid he’d go in that day and not come back, instead of spending each and every day he had left surrounded by love.”

  He knew?

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” I asked, a bit of anger rising in my chest.

  She took my hands in hers and lowered her voice. “He didn’t want you to push him away. He thought if you learned about his sickness, you’d become cold, to protect yourself from feeling too much. He knew you’d go deeper into your mind, and that idea broke his heart, Graham. He was so terrified of losing you, because you were his son. You are our son, and if you left during his final days…he would’ve left this world brokenhearted.”

  My chest was tight and it took everything inside of me to not cry. I lowered my head a bit and shook it back and forth. “He’s my best friend,” I told her.

  “And you are his,” she replied.

  We waited and waited for the doctors to come tell us what was happening. When one finally returned, he cleared his throat. “Mrs. Evans?” he asked. We all shot up from our chairs, our nerves shot.

  “Yes, I’m right here,” Mary replied as I took her trembling hand in mine.

  Be brave.

  “Your husband suffered from heart failure. He’s in the ICU on breathing machines, and the truth of the matter is that if those came off, there’s a significant chance he wouldn’t make it. I’m so sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. I can arrange for you to meet with a specialist to help you decide what the best choice is for moving forward.”

  “You mean we have to decide to either unplug the machines or keep him in his current state?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, but please understand, he’s not in a good state. There’s not much we can do for him except keep him comfortable. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh my God,” Karla cried as she fell into Susie’s arms.

  “Can we see him?” Mary asked, her voice trembling.

  “Yes, but only family for now,” the doctor said. “And maybe only one person at a time.”

  “You go first,” Mary said, turning to me, as if the idea that I wasn’t family was ridiculous.

  I shook my head. “No. You should, really. I’m good.”

  “I can’t,” she cried. “I can’t be the first to see him. Please, Graham? Please go first so you can tell me how he is. Please.”

  “Okay,” I told her, still a little worried about not being there to hold her up. Before I could say anything else, Lucy was standing on the other side of Mary, holding her hand tight and promising me with her gentle eyes that she wouldn’t let go.

  “I’ll take you to the room,” the doctor told me.

  As we walked down the hallway, I tried my best to keep it together. I tried my best to not show how much my heart was hurting, but the moment I was left alone with Professor Oliver in that room, I lost it.

  He looked so broken.

  So many machines beeping, so many tubes and IVs.

  I took a deep breath, pulled a chair up to his bed, and then cleared my throat. “You’re a selfish asshole,” I stated, stern, angry. “You’re a selfish asshole for doing this to Mary. You’re a selfish asshole for doing this to Karla weeks before her wedding. You’re a selfish asshole for doing this to me. I hate you for thinking if I knew, I’d run. I hate you for being right about it, too, but please, Professor Oliver…” My voice cracked and my eyes watered over. They burned, the way my heart was burning from the pain. “Don’t go. You can’t go, you selfish fucking
asshole, okay? You can’t leave Mary, you can’t leave Karla, and you absolutely, one hundred percent, cannot leave me.”

  I fell apart, taking his hand in mine, and I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in as my cold heart that had only recently thawed began to shatter.

  “Please, Ollie. Please don’t go. Please, I’ll do anything…just…just…”

  Please don’t go.

  Christmas Day

  He hadn’t liked her gift, so he allowed himself a drink. Kent never only had one drink, though. One led to two, two led to three, and three led to a number that brought out his shadows. When Kent lived in his shadows, there was nothing able to bring him back.

  Even though Rebecca was beautiful.

  Even though Rebecca was kind.

  Even though Rebecca tried hard each day to be enough.

  She was more than enough, Graham thought.

  For the past five birthdays, she’d watched him blow out his candles.

  She was his best friend, the proof that good existed, but that wouldn’t last, because Kent had had a drink—or ten.

  “You are shit!” he screamed at her, throwing his glass of whisky at the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces. He was more than a monster, he was darkness, the worst kind of man that ever existed. Kent didn’t even know why he was so angry, but he took it all out on Rebecca.

  “Please,” she whispered, shaken as she sat on the couch. “Just rest, Kent. You haven’t taken a break since you started writing.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. You ruined Christmas,” he slurred, stumbling over to her. “You ruined it all, because you are shit.” He raised his hand to take his anger out on her, but before he could slap her, his palm slammed against Graham’s forehead as he stepped in the way to protect Rebecca. “Move!” Kent ordered, wrapping his hands around his son and tossing him to the side of the room.

  Graham’s eyes filled with tears as he watched his father hit her.

  How?

  How could he hit someone so good?

  “Stop!” Graham cried, rushing over and hitting his father repeatedly. Each time Kent would push him away, but Graham didn’t stop. He kept rising from the floor and going back for more, unafraid of how his father would hurt him. All he knew was that Rebecca was being hurt, and he knew he had to protect her.