by S. L. Naeole
“It’s food,” she said with a grin on her face. “All paid for!”
She placed the boxes in front of me and began to sift through them, dancing when she saw the restaurant’s label. “This is from the same place that catered your dad’s wedding!”
I looked at the hand-stamped logos and knew right away that Robert had known what would happen to my dinner; he had saved the day with a quick call.
“See, everything’s fine,” Graham said enthusiastically. “He just needs some time to cool off.”
“I was never mad at Grace to begin with,” Robert said as he stood in the kitchen doorway. “I simply knew that human nature was going to get in the way of finishing up dinner and with all of the work that went into it, I couldn’t let Grace fail.”
I fought back tears of relief and gratitude and walked into Robert’s outstretched arms, barely needing to take a single step, he had already reached me, embracing me and holding me as tightly as possible, almost to the point of pain.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I repeated into his shoulder, too overwhelmed to say anything else.
His hand stroked my hair while his thoughts mingled with my own. There’s nothing to be sorry for; do not apologize to me when I am the one who left. You did nothing wrong. If I felt any anger, even in the most infinitesimal amount, it left me faster than it arrived. I cannot blame you for doing for Graham what you’ve done for me.
He stiffened just then, his head raising, turning towards the door. “Stacy, hurry and unpack that food—James and Janice will be here in five minutes.”
Robert eased himself away from me and took a quick look at the kitchen, his eyes lingering on the damage he had caused to the counter. He left me and began to move rapidly back and forth, his movements so quick, he was no longer a blur but rather simply unseen. Graham stood behind me and whistled in amazement as the gouge that had marked the countertop quickly disappeared, Robert leaving no trace that anything had happened to it at all.
When the keys could be heard in the door, the kitchen was spotless; the food had been removed from their delivery containers, and said containers hidden in a dumpster down the street. Robert stood behind me, a supportive arm placed around my waist, his chin resting on the top of my head. Graham and Stacy flanked me on either side, and we waited as the door opened, cheering softly when dad held the door open for Janice, Matthew held snugly in her arms.
“Hey guys,” she said with a smile, looking exhausted but relieved to finally be home. “Something smells fabulous—I hope whatever that is, it’s done because I’m ready for something other than hospital food.”
“Everything is ready, Janice,” Graham said with a grin.
“Oh good. I’m going to put this little guy in his crib and then I’ll be back down.”
I stepped forward and held my arms out to her. “Let me do that. You shouldn’t be walking up and down those stairs so much with your stitches.”
Nodding in agreement, she placed the warm bundle in my arms, being careful not to disturb him. I looked at the tiny face in my arms and couldn’t help the wide grin that crossed my face. I headed up the stairs towards the room at the end of the hall, quietly opening the door and stepping into the brightly colored room.
“Okay, Matthew. This is your room. I hope you like it. If you don’t, you can blame your mom; she chose the decorations. This was my crib, the one I used when I was your age. I read all of the baby safety books that your mom left lying around so I know that it’s okay for you to use, just in case you’ve somehow inherited that anal retentive thing she’s got going for her.
“You’re going to have to get used to that because she’s your mom, and she’s a nurse, but other than that, she’s okay. I rather like her a lot. Just don't tell her that or she might hold it against me one day.”
I laid him down gently onto the mattress and then leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. His hair and skin were incredibly soft, his scent so sweet, I felt a tug at something inside of my heart, something strange and utterly foreign.
“I hope you’re not getting any strange ideas,” I heard Dad say from the hallway.
“What? Oh no, no, Dad, no” I answered him, nervous laughter belying my words. “No ideas, no ideas at all. None. Zero.”
“That’s good to know,” he chuckled before his face grew somber, eager feet bringing him towards the crib. “Grace, I don’t know if I thanked you-”
“You did, Dad, in the hospital.”
“No, Grace,” he said, his hand stroking my head like he used to do when I was little. “I meant for being my daughter. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you in it. You made it easier to wake up every morning, gave me a reason to look forward to going to bed each night, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without you when you leave.”
He choked up on that last bit and I felt a closing sensation in my chest as I thought about what it would do to him when I was gone forever. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall when I heard the soft whimper behind me, the sound comforting in a way. He would have Matthew, and Janice. He wouldn’t be alone, and for that I was eternally grateful to Janice.
“I love you, Dad,” I said to him in a wavering voice.
“I love you, too, Grace.” He ruffled my hair playfully before succumbing to the fatherly need to hug me. I didn’t fight it, instead relishing this quiet moment with him before I had to leave.
“Come on, let’s leave your brother to sleep and go and have some dinner.”
I smiled at the word “brother”, and hand-in-hand we walked out of the room. I stopped at my door, noticing the light that gleamed from beneath it.
“Oh, Katie’s in there unloading her things,” Dad said casually, pulling me along. “She’ll be down later.”
I knew that I had agreed to allowing her in my room, even suggested it, but I couldn’t help but feel violated somehow with her in there among my things. I wanted to set down some rules but knew that it would have been rude.
No more rude than her trying to cover up one of your best features.
I smiled as I looked towards the stairs, glad for the silent support in my corner. “Let’s go and have dinner then,” I said cheerfully, pulling Dad downstairs. I couldn’t help it, though, when I whispered “make sure she leaves only with what she came with” into his ear halfway down.
Dad turned to me and winked, completely understanding my hesitation and suspicion. I was going to miss him.
THE PERFECT FIT
A week after Janice came home, Stacy was dropped off at Robert’s house so that we could finally go shopping for my prom dress. She tried to coax her brother inside, but he was still too ashamed to face me. At least, that was what she told me.
“Is Graham going to come here or is Robert taking us?” she asked when I pulled her upstairs into Lark’s room.
“We’re all going together. Graham’s supposed to be here in about ten minutes, and then we’ll all leave in Robert’s car. He’s been nervous these past few days and doesn’t trust me to out of his sight anymore.”
Her eyes roamed our surroundings and then raised her hand in question. “So why are you still in Lark’s room?”
With a loud groan, I flung myself onto the bed, landing on my back with a flop and stared at the ceiling. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh give me a break. All of this ‘it’s complicated’ bull is getting pretty damn annoying, Grace. Just spit it out, okay? Save me from having to form wrong assumptions in my head, please.”
Frustrated, and needing to tell someone, I finally blurted, “Because if I stayed in Robert’s room, nothing would stop us from…you know.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” she questioned. “You two love each other, right? You’re meant for each other and plan to be with each other. What’s wrong with doing the deed? God, I’m going to die a freaking virgin; get some while you can!”
I felt like a broken record, having already explained
this to Graham, but I told her the same thing that Ameila had told me, explaining to her the rules and the consequences that came with breaking them.
Stacy sat in silence once I was through, her face registering disappointment and shock. She opened her mouth several times to say something, but shook her head, changing her mind before the words could come out.
Only when the doorbell rang and the time to leave had arrived did she finally say what had been hounding her thoughts.
“You should do it anyway. To hell with the rules—you’re not planning on populating the planet with giants and monsters for crying out loud, and you’re gonna die anyway, so what’s there to lose?”
I gaped at her, shocked by her suggestion, but more so by the fact that I had had the same thoughts.
Stacy got up and pulled me to my feet, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Come on, let’s get going before the guys get restless and Graham starts digging around for food.”
“Yeah, once that happens, we’ll never get him to leave,” I laughed.
***
It took almost an hour for Stacy to remember where the antique shop she had wanted to visit was, and another ten minutes for Robert to maneuver in the busy parking lot until he found a parking stall that allowed us to open our doors.
“You could have just dropped us off and then found a stall,” Stacy griped. “I mean, it’s going to take us almost as long to walk to the store as it did finding this stall.”
“For you, perhaps,” Robert said with a wink to me. He took a hold of my hand and with a rush of wind and a blur of color we were standing in front of a kitschy little store; a wire rack mannequin standing in the window was adorned in a bright red flapper dress.
I giggled, amused by the annoyed and frustrated look on Stacy’s face as she and Graham hurried to catch up to us. I immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I took in Stacy’s pallor; the walk in the sun had been a little too much for her.
“You-owe-me-an-iced-latte,” she huffed at Robert.
“Gladly,” Robert said to her, holding out his arm to her for support.
She took it willingly while I rolled my eyes at Graham’s bemused face. Together, we walked into the small store, the smell of moth balls and incense combining to make for a rather noxious aroma.
“Ugh, I can’t stay in here,” Graham complained, covering his face with an open hand. “I’ll wait for you guys outside.”
Stacy shrugged, too busy sifting through the racks, focused on her hunt. Robert came to stand beside me, his hand once again finding mine, our fingers weaving around each other.
“So…I heard you talking to Stacy…” his voice trailed off when as he watched Stacy fight with a tangled hanger.
“And?”
I knew where the conversation was heading, but didn’t want to lead it there.
“Do you really agree with her?”
My eyes flitted to Stacy to make sure that she was too involved in her war with an overly stuffed clothes rack to pay attention before turning to face him.
I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t. I do agree with her, but I also know that the consequences are too severe for just a few moments of feeling good.
His eyebrows raised in mock offense, his mouth hanging open. A few moments? I’d like to think it would be a bit more than just a few moments.
I laughed softly before sobering up quickly when he leaned in, his cool breath mingling with the warmth of my own, the smoothness of his forehead pressing against mine. The tips of our noses just barely grazed each other as he brought his lips to mine and I knew, down to the very ends of my toes that a few moments would definitely be worth dying for.
“Found it!”
Robert pulled away and sighed, his eyes liquid and dark, stormy as he brushed my bottom lip with an errant finger. “She’s found it,” he said with a wry smile.
Wrinkling my nose, I turned with great resignation to see what it was that Stacy had found. Her face was triumphant as she held up what looked like a bag filled with black webbing. “Where’s the spider?” I quipped as I tried to figure out what exactly it was that Stacy held so proudly in her hands.
“It’s your dress! Well, part of it, anyway—we still need to get a slip to go underneath it—but it’s vintage, it’s cut perfectly for your shape and height, and no one else is going to have it. This is your dress.” She shook the garment bag, the bottom tied to keep the end of the dress from dragging on the ground, and I couldn’t help but feel skeptical at the lump of black that lay just behind the filmy covering.
“But what exactly is it, Stacy?” I reached out to take the hanger from her, needing to take a look at it more closely.
“It’s an overdress, Grace. This dress is over a hundred years old—we’re talking true vintage, a classic. They don’t make dresses like this anymore.” She looked at Robert and held it out to him. “Tell me this dress isn’t perfect for her.”
My hands remained empty as Robert took the hanger from her and held it up, the poor lighting in the store revealing nothing to me, but his eyes lit up as his gaze roamed the dark item in his hands. “Stacy, I don’t know how you found this particular dress, but you are right, it is perfect for her.”
With a smug, tilting smile, Stacy took the dress back from Robert and walked over to the saleslady who stood in front of an ancient cash register, the keys circular in shape and all of them taking up only two rows. The register itself was very ornate, its alternating shiny and rusty metal housing embossed with fleur de lis and intricate scrollwork framing each corner. Next to it, the plump saleslady looked rather dowdy and plain, but I suppose anyone would.
“Well now, let’s see what you’ve got here, young lady,” she said to Stacy in a raspy, sing song voice. “Oh, this one is one of my favorites. I’d have kept it if my figure would have allowed it, but as you can tell, I’m not exactly a featherweight. We can thank my six kids for that.” She began to untie the bottom of the bag and once it was undone, gently lifted it up and over the dress, revealing that the webbing was actually an elaborate lace.
“This dress was made in nineteen o’eight for a young woman to wear as part of her wedding trousseau, which makes this dress almost as old as God,” she laughed as she shook it out, a little tag that had been pinned to the seam slipping loose and dangling by its string. “Well, I don’t know if you young ladies have deep pockets, but this dress is quite expensive—I hadn’t realized until just now.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Robert spoke up, stepping around Stacy to stand in front of the woman, a small card in his hand.
Her reaction was evidence of Robert’s charms, as the half-smile that had formed on her lips upon seeing the price, which had replaced the meant-for-customers-only smile just moments before, disappeared. In its place, a new smile emerged, one that was warm and accepting, almost loving. But, what stood out in my mind, what made me feel a tremor of unexplainable anger, was the flicker of desire I saw in her eyes.
“Well, it’s really sweet of you to buy this for your sister,” she said to him, her voice now an octave lower, the rasp more pronounced. “But we only take cash.” She pointed to the register, embarrassment tinting her skin a bright red.
“Okay,” Robert answered simply, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out his wallet.
“You don’t have to buy it, Robert,” I said to him softly, mortified that he’d even consider paying for a dress that he wouldn’t even see me in. “I have some money saved up. I’ll pay for it.”
“It’s twelve-hundred dollars, Grace,” Stacy gasped as she spied the number written on the tag.
“Oh dear bananas.”
“I’m sorry, Grace, I had no idea it was going to be that expensive. I’ll go and put it back.” Stacy reached towards the dress in the saleslady’s hands, her intent clear on her face, even if she hadn’t stated it.
Robert grabbed a hold of her hand and shook his head. “I’ve got it, Stacy, don’t worry.”
“No, Rob
ert, this is too expensive,” I said in a low voice, still unable to comprehend how something so old and lacking in…well, fabric, could cost so much. “I’ll find something else.”
He looked down at me, his eyes having not lost their darkness, and let his lips brush gently against mine, once, twice, the third time just a slight graze of skin. I felt him fight against adding pressure to the kiss, and I silently prayed that he’d lose.
“Not this time,” he whispered against my lips, kissing me once more before straightening up and turning to face our awestruck audience of one. “We’ll take it.”
***
“Oh come on, Grace. You can’t still be bothered over what that doily cost.”
Graham was seated across from me, a plate of fries and a burger sitting in front of him, a cup of soda held securely in his hand. “If Robert wants to pay the same amount for it as a used car would cost, I say let him.”
“Quit it, Graham,” Stacy hissed, jabbing at his ribs with a well-aimed elbow before taking a greedy sip of her iced coffee. “I think that it was a very romantic gesture, Robert. I only wish you’d be able to enjoy seeing her in it.”
“Stacy,” I warned.
“I’m going to ask the question, Grace, even if you’re too much of a chicken to do it.” She turned her entire body to face Robert, the circular table we occupied now her stage as she directed her gaze to him.
“Why don’t you want to go to prom with Grace?”
I threw my hands in the air, exasperated by her prying.
And yet…I strained to hear what Robert’s reply was.
“I know you want me to give you some elaborate excuse, Stacy, something romantic, like how it’s all about protecting her safety, or perhaps something practical, like I’m allergic to formal school functions, but the simple truth is that I just want Grace to have as normal a prom as possible.”
Stacy wasn’t going to accept that answer, and she pressed him for more. “How can it be a normal prom if she’s going with someone else? You’re her boyfriend. You’re supposed to take her. ”