The Gravity of Us Read online

  “I know.” I walked over to him and kissed him on the top of his head. “Which is exactly why you should get some sleep.”

  He waved me off. “People who get showcases at museums don’t sleep, Lucy. They create.”

  I laughed, walking to the front door. “Well, try to create with your eyes shut for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

  As I pulled into Graham’s driveway, I was stunned by the size of his house. Of course, all the mansions in River Hills were stunning, but his was hauntingly breathtaking. Graham’s property was much like his personality—secluded from the rest of the world. The front of the house was surrounded by trees, while the backyard had a bit of open land to it. There were pebbled pathways that marked the areas that were supposed to be made into gardens, but the wild grass just grew high in those areas. It would’ve been great for a beautiful garden. I could envision the types of unique flowers and vines that could exist in the space. Behind the patch of field were more trees that traveled far back.

  The sun hadn’t risen yet and his house was dark, but still so beautiful. In front of his porch sat two huge lion statues, and on his rooftop were three gargoyles.

  I walked up to his door carrying two cups of coffee, and right as I was about to ring the doorbell, Graham was already there, rushing me inside.

  “She won’t stop screaming,” he said, not greeting me, just hurrying me into the house with the crying baby. The house was pitch-black, except for a lamp that sat on the living room table. The draping on all the windows was heavy red velvet, making the home feel even darker. He led me to Talon’s room, where the tiny girl was lying in her crib, her face red as day as she hollered.

  “She doesn’t have a temperature, and I laid her on her back, because you know…” He shrugged. “I read up a lot about SIDS, and I know she’s not able to roll, but what if she does by mistake? And she’s not eating much. I’m not sure what to do, so I was going to try kangaroo care.”

  I almost laughed at his nerves, except there was the issue that Talon was in distress. I looked around the room, noting that the little girl’s bedroom was two times the size of my own. Scattered across the floor were dozens of parenting books opened to certain pages, with other pages folded down so he could return to them at a later time.

  “What’s kangaroo care?” I asked.

  When I looked up from the books, I noticed a shirtless Graham standing before me. My eyes danced across his toned chest and caramel skin before I forced myself to stop gawking at him. For an author, he was unnervingly good-looking and fit. A tattoo traveled up his left arm, wrapping around to the back of his shoulder blade, and his arms appeared as if his biceps had their own biceps, who had then given birth to their own biceps.

  For a moment, I considered if he truly was an author and not Dwayne Johnson.

  After he took off Talon’s onesie, leaving her in only a diaper, he reached into the crib, lifted the crying baby into his muscular arms, and started swaying back and forth as her ear lay against his chest, over his heart.

  “It’s when the parent and the child have skin-to-skin contact to form a bond. It works best for mothers, I believe, though the nurses told me I should try it, which seems pointless,” he grumbled as the crying continued. He held her as if she was a football and swayed frantically, almost as if he was falling apart from not being able to calm her.

  “Maybe we should try feeding her again,” I offered. “Do you want me to make a bottle?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t know how warm it would have to be.”

  I smiled, unbothered by his lack of faith in me. “That’s fine. Here, hand her over and you can go make the bottle.” His brows furrowed and doubt crept into his frown, deepening it. I sat down in the gray gliding chair in the corner and held my arms out. “I promise to not let her go.”

  “You have to protect her head,” he told me as he slowly—very slowly—placed Talon in my arms. “And don’t move until I’m back.”

  I laughed. “You have my word, Graham.”

  Before he left the room, he glanced back at me, as if he expected the baby to be on the floor or something ridiculous. I couldn’t fault him for his fears, though; it seemed Graham had a hard time when it came to trust, especially after my sister walked out on him.

  “Hello, beautiful,” I said to Talon, gliding her in the chair, holding her close to me. She was beautiful, a work of art almost. A few weeks ago she had been a tiny peanut, and since the last time I saw her, she had gained five pounds. She was a survivor, a beacon of hope. The more I glided in the chair, the more she seemed to calm down. By the time Graham returned to the room, she was sleeping peacefully in my arms.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “How did you do that?”

  I shrugged. “I guess she just really loves this chair.”

  He grimaced and reached for Talon, taking her from my hold and placing her sleeping self into the crib. “Leave.”

  “What?” I asked, confused. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? I thought you wanted—”

  “You can go now, Lucille. Your services are no longer needed.”

  “My services?” I remarked, stunned by his coldness. “I just came to help. You called me.”

  “Now I’m uncalling you. Goodbye.”

  He hurried me to the front door and ushered me out without another word. Not even a thank you was mentioned before he slammed the door in my face.

  “Don’t forget to drink the coffee I brought you that’s sitting on the counter!” I hollered, banging on his door. “It’s black—ya know, like your soul.”

  “He called you over at three in the morning?” Mari asked, unlocking the shop the next morning. We were closed on Sundays, but we went in to prep for the following week ahead. “Granted, I was happy when you didn’t come to wake me at five in the morning for hot yoga, but I was wondering where you were. How’s the baby?”

  “Good, she’s doing well.” I smiled as I thought about her. “She’s perfect.”

  “And he’s…handling it all by himself?”

  “The best he can,” I said, walking inside. “He’s struggling, I think. Him calling me was a big deal, I could tell.”

  “That’s so weird that he’d call you. He hardly knows you.”

  “I don’t think he has family of his own. I think his father was the last family he had. Plus, I gave him my number in case he needed the help.”

  “And then he kicked you out?”

  “Yup.”

  Mari rolled her eyes. “That totally seems like a stable living arrangement for a child. I could tell when he came into the shop that he had an edge to him.”

  “He’s definitely rough around the edges, but I think he really wants to do right by Talon. He was forced into a situation and thought he’d have a partner to help him, but now he’s doing it all on his own.”

  “I couldn’t imagine,” my sister said. “I can’t believe Lyric just left him. You’d think she’d be more thoughtful after she saw what went on with Parker and me.”

  “She abandoned her newborn baby in the hospital, Mari. Any thoughtfulness we thought Lyric possessed went straight out the window and is now void.” It was crazy how you could know a person your whole life and then realize you knew nothing about them at all.

  Time was a curse, the way it slowly morphed relationships into foreign affairs.

  Mari shook her head. “What a mess. But, on a brighter note, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Is it a green smoothie?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I said a surprise, not a disgusting ground-up plant. We are officially hiring an additional florist! I’m interviewing a few people over these next few weeks.”

  Since opening our floral shop, we’d always talked about hiring on more staff, but we hadn’t had enough profit to actually do it. So, the fact that we were now at that stage where we could afford to bring on more staff was exciting. There was nothing more exhilarating than watching your dream grow.

  As I went to repl
y, the bell over the front door rang, making us both look up. “Sorry, we’re not actually open tod—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence when I saw who was standing there with a bouquet of roses.

  “Parker,” Mari said as she breathed out, her strength dissipating as his name rolled off her tongue. Her body physically reacted to him as her shoulders drooped and her knees buckled. “Wh-What are you do-doing here?” Her voice trembled, and I wished it hadn’t. It gave away the effect he had on her—the effect he obviously wanted to have.

  “I, um…” He chuckled nervously and looked down at the flowers. “I guess it’s a little stupid to bring flowers to a flower shop, huh?”

  “What are you doing here, Parker?” I said, my voice much more stern than my sister’s. I crossed my arms and didn’t look away from him for a second.

  “It’s good to see you too, Lucy,” he remarked. “I was hoping to speak to my wife for a minute.”

  “You don’t have a wife anymore,” I told him. Every step he took toward Mari, I interfered. “You lost her when you packed your bags and left all those years ago.”

  “Okay, okay, fair enough. I deserve that,” he replied. Mari murmured something under her breath, making Parker arch an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

  “I said you don’t deserve shit!” Mari barked out, her voice still shaky, but louder now. Mari wasn’t one to ever curse, so when the last word flew off her tongue, I knew he had her really shaken up.

  “Mari,” Parker started. She turned her back to him, but he kept talking. “It would’ve been seven years a few weeks ago.”

  She didn’t turn to face him, but I saw her body react.

  Stay strong, sister.

  “I know I screwed up. I know it seems like a real shitty thing to do to show up here after all this time with some crap flowers, but I miss you.”

  Her body reacted more.

  “I miss us. I’m an idiot, okay? I made a lot of shitty mistakes. I’m not asking you to take me back today, Mari. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me. I’m just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to get coffee with me.”

  “Oh my gosh,” I groaned.

  “What?” Parker asked, offended by my annoyance.

  “You stole that line from Notting Hill!”

  “Not exactly! Julia Roberts asked Hugh Grant to love her. I just asked for a cup of coffee,” Parker explained.

  I couldn’t roll my eyes hard enough. “Whatever. Leave.”

  “No offense, Lucy, but I didn’t come here for you. I came for Mari, and she hasn’t told me to—”

  “Leave,” Mari said, her voice rediscovering its strength as she turned back to face him. She stood tall, like a strong oak tree.

  “Mari…” He stepped closer to her, and she held up a hand to halt him.

  “I said go, Parker. I have nothing to say, and I want nothing to do with you. Now just leave.”

  He hesitated for second before he placed the flowers down on the counter and left.

  The moment the door shut, Mari released the breath she’d been holding, and I hurried to the back room.

  “What are you doing?” she called after me.

  “Getting the sage stick,” I hollered back. When we were kids, Mama kept a sage stick in our house that she’d burn whenever there was an argument of any kind. She always said fights brought bad energy to a space, and it was best to clear it out right away. “There’s nothing good about Parker’s energy, and I refuse to let his negativity seep into our lives again. Not today, Satan.” I lit the sage and walked through the shop, waving it.

  “Speaking of Satan,” Mari mentioned, picking up my cell phone when it started ringing.

  I reached over for it, and Graham’s name flashed across the screen.

  Warily, I answered, passing the sage stick to my sister. “Hello?”

  “The chair doesn’t work.”

  “What?”

  “I said the chair doesn’t work. You told me she liked the gliding chair, and that’s how you got her to sleep, but it’s not working. I’ve been trying all morning, and she won’t sleep. She’s hardly eating and…” His words dropped off for a moment before he softly spoke again. “Come back.”

  “Excuse me?” I leaned against the counter, flabbergasted. “You shoved me out of your house.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s all you can say? That you know?”

  “Listen, if you don’t want to come help, fine. I don’t need you.”

  “Yes, you do. That’s why you’re calling.” I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Again, not a thank you.

  “Lucille?”

  “Yes?”

  “Make it fifteen.”

  Lucy pulled up to my house in her beat-up burgundy car, and I opened the door before she even climbed out of her vehicle. I held Talon in my arms, rocking her as she cried from discomfort.

  “That was twenty-five minutes,” I scolded her.

  She just smiled. She was always smiling.

  She had a smile that reminded me of my past, a beautiful smile filled with hope.

  Hope was the weak man’s remedy to life’s issues.

  I only knew that was true from the past I’d lived.

  “I like to call it fashionably late.”

  The closer she got, the tenser I became. “Why do you smell like weed?”

  She laughed. “It’s not weed, it’s sage. I was burning it.”

  “Why were you burning sage?”

  A sly grin found her and she shrugged. “To fight off negative energy like yours.”

  “Oh right, hippie weirdo. I bet you travel with crystals and stones with you, too.”

  With no effort at all, she reached into her over-the-shoulder purse and pulled out a handful of crystals.

  Because of course she did.

  “Here.” She reached out, took Talon from my hands, and began rocking her. “You need rest. I’ll watch her.” The guilt I had from the fact that Talon so effortlessly seemed to calm down when she was in Lucy’s arms was strong.

  “I can’t sleep,” I told her.

  “No, you can. You’re choosing not to because you’re paranoid that something might happen to your daughter, which is a very reasonable reaction that I’m sure a lot of new parents go through. But, you’re not alone right now, Graham. I’m here.”

  I hesitated, and she slightly nudged me in the shoulder. “Go. I can do this.”

  “You said you’ve nannied before, right?”

  “Yes, a set of twins and their little brother. I was there from the first week up until they went off to school. Graham, I promise you, Talon’s okay.”

  “Okay.” I brushed my hand over my hairy chin and started in the direction of my bedroom. A shower sounded nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered—or eaten. When was my last meal? Do I even have food in my fridge? Is my fridge even still running?

  Bills.

  Did I pay my bills? My phone hasn’t been shut off yet, which is a good sign, because I have to call Talon’s pediatrician in the morning.

  Doctor.

  Doctor’s appointment—I have to set up doctor’s appointments.

  Nanny? I need to interview nannies.

  “Shut up,” Lucy barked at me.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “No, but your mind is spinning with everything you could be doing instead of sleeping. Before you can be productive, you gotta rest, and, Graham?”

  I turned to see her kind eyes staring my way. “Yes?”

  “You’re doing everything right, you know, with your daughter.”

  I cleared my throat and stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. Laundry—when was the last time I did laundry? “She cries all the time. She’s not happy with me.”

  Lucy laughed, the kind of laugh where she tossed her head backward and her smile stretched so far. She laughed too loud, and at the wrong times. “Babies cry, Gra
ham. It’s normal. This is all new for both of you. It’s a brand-new world, and you both are doing the best you can to adjust.”

  “She doesn’t cry with you.”

  “Trust me.” Lucy grinned, looking down at the somewhat calm Talon in her hold. “Give her a few minutes and I’ll be begging for you to switch spots with me, so go. Go rest for a bit before I hand her back over.”

  I nodded, and before I left, I cleared my throat once more. “I apologize.”

  “For?”

  “The way I pushed you away this morning. It was rude, and for that I’m sorry.”

  Her head tilted and she stared at me with questioning eyes. “Why do I feel like there are a million words floating around in your mind, but you only allow a certain number to escape?”

  I didn’t reply.

  As I stared at her rocking my daughter who was growing more and more upset, Lucy smiled and winked my way. “See? Told you. She’s just being a baby. I’ll take care of her for a while. You go ahead and take care of yourself.”

  I thanked her in my mind, and she smiled as if she heard me.

  The moment my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep. I hadn’t known I was so tired until I truly had a moment to rest. It was as if my body melted into my mattress and sleep swallowed me whole. No nightmares or dreams found me, and for that, I was thankful.

  It wasn’t until I heard Talon screaming that I tossed and turned in my bed. “Jane, can you get her?” I whispered, half asleep. Then my eyes opened and I glanced at the other side of my bed—it was still completely made, no wrinkles in the sheets. My hand grazed over the empty spot that reminded me I was in this alone.

  I climbed out of bed, and as I walked through the hallways, I heard a soft whisper.

  “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

  The closer I grew to the nursery, the more the gentle voice calmed me. I stood in the doorway, watching Lucy as she held Talon and fed her.

  Maybe in many ways, staring at my empty bed was a reminder that Jane was gone, but seeing Lucy before me was a small reminder that I wasn’t alone.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, making Lucy turn, surprised.