On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep

by Michelle Kemper Brownlow

  “No, Gracie. You’ve got serious double standards. You’re allowed to lose your mind with jealousy, but I’m not. I can’t function like that.”

  “Jake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going to fall for Calon.” She took another step forward, so close I could feel her breath on my face.

  “They’re just words, Gracie. I need you to show me—”

  Before I could say another word, her lips touched mine. She was hesitant at first, just letting them brush mine, but then she kissed me. Her mouth became an extension of mine, our lips reunited and our tongues intertwined. She had her hands in my hair, and I held her so close, I could feel her heart racing. I fell into another dimension, but then snapped out of it quickly and pushed her away.

  “And how is that kiss different from the one you shared with Calon? What was this kiss supposed to show me, Gracie?” I grabbed all the laundry I had yet to wash and threw it back in my basket. I turned and looked at her. The rejection on her face was heartbreaking, but so was the rejection I felt.

  ****

  I sat alone in my apartment, unable to make sense of the emotions running through my system. On one hand, I was happy that Gracie was pouring herself into her poetry and music, but on the other hand, I hated that it was with Calon. How could I justify trying to dissuade her from investing in her relationship with Calon when the things he could teach her might save her?

  Frustrated and with no one else to turn to, I called my dad.

  “Son, to what do I owe this honor?” I could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. I was used to not seeing him, but it had been longer than usual since we’d chatted.

  “Hey, Pop. I need your help.”

  “You’re not in jail, are you?”

  He chuckled when he said it. I was never in trouble growing up. My observant nature was woven deep within me. When I was really young and saw someone get spanked, I decided obedience would be my best friend. That notion followed me for the rest of my youth. I was about ten when three of my friends were hauled down to the Jackson police station for daring each other to shoplift. And in high school, more people than I could count got caught drinking or doing drugs. It seemed like a simple enough equation to me; I couldn’t understand why other kids didn’t get it. If you want to stay out of trouble you simply follow the rules. So my dad knew I wasn’t calling him from jail.

  “No, Pop, it’s a girl. I need some advice.”

  “Oh, Jacob, sometimes I believe women are the root of all evil.” He exploded into laughter, which brought a smile to my face. Since their divorce, my mom and dad had remained close, but neither had ever remarried. I’m sure he dated, but no one I ever heard about. I assumed no one measured up to my mom in his eyes.

  “Well, Gracie’s not evil. I love her, Dad. My feelings run way deeper than they ever have for anyone else.”

  “Yeah, that’s an awful predicament to be in.” He chuckled again.

  “No, listen. She’s formed a creatively-based relationship with this local rock star, and...well, I guess I feel threatened by him. He’s giving her things I can’t. She’s writing lyrics and taking guitar lessons, all as a means to deal with some baggage from her last relationship. They really have a great bond. But I’m so damn jealous, I could shred him.”

  “Son, what about Gracie makes you love her so deeply?”

  “She’s amazing, Pop. Her heart is bigger than the planet, and she loves to love. She hands herself over so readily when someone is in need. She’s talented and beautiful, and she makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. She’s unique and genuine and everything I want in the person I will spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Then it’s simple. You know what you have to do.”

  “I do?”

  “You fight for her, Jake. You fight tooth and nail and never give up on her.” The line went silent.

  “You there?” I could hear movement and a faint rustling on the other end of the phone. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, it was keeping him quiet.

  “I’m here. Jacob. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to you. You know why? Because you will compare everyone that comes after her on the Gracie-meter, and trust me when I tell you, no one will ever measure up.”

  I was stunned by what he’d just unloaded. My dad and I were great friends, but he never shared his heart with me like that.

  “Thanks, Dad. Hey, how’s Shyla?”

  “Oh, she’s hobblin’ around here, still thinkin’ she’s queen. Jake, some days I think she’ll outlive me. She’s a good dog. She keeps me company.”

  Shyla was a beautiful Golden Retriever. I was ten when we went on a snowmobile run after a big storm in the dead of winter. She’d been left in a box alongside the road out in the middle of nowhere. I picked her up and nestled her inside my coat, and we later warmed her by the fire when we got home. I had to bottle-feed her for weeks.

  “You done with that canoe yet?” My dad was an amazing craftsman and reserved one bay of our garage as project central. His latest gig was a seventeen-and-a-half-foot cedar canoe he’d named Martha. She was gorgeous. He took his good old time with Martha. He spent hours steam bending the ribs, caning the seats, and adding coat after coat of epoxy.

  “Nope. I swear I’m takin’ it slow because I almost don’t want her to be done. It’s like my therapy, ya know?”

  “Will she be done by Christmas?”

  “Well, hell yes. I ain’t makin’ it last that long. I want to float her before I’m dead.”

  “Perfect. I’m hoping Gracie will visit for the holidays.”

  “Hang onto her, Jake. I mean it.”

  “I know you do. Thanks.”

  “Hey, I heard your mom’s coming to see you.”

  I loved that my parents remained on good terms with each other.

  “Yeah, she’ll be here next week. I’m excited for her to meet Gracie.”

  “Oh, so she gets to meet her first. I see how it is.”

  “Finish that canoe and you can meet her, too.”

  “Well, then, stop jabbering and let me get to work.” He chuckled.

  “Bye, Dad.”

  “Love you, son.”

  Twenty-three

  Gracie

  Becki and I had just enjoyed a full day of pampering, thanks to Old Jane. I needed some relaxation after my unexpected run-in with Jake. Our laundromat confrontation had been awful, and I still hadn’t cooled off. It had been three days and I hadn’t heard from Jake.

  Becki and I had massages, got facials, treated ourselves to mani-pedis, and did a little shopping. Becki said I needed to confront Jake and somehow make it clear I had no intentions with Calon. She said avoiding him would only make things worse. She was right. My plan was to go home with him after his shift at Mitchell’s and have a long talk about my feelings for and connection with Calon.

  We rounded the corner, headed toward Mitchell’s, and ran into Calon, singing with a group of sidewalk performers. He was singing an acoustic version of “Demons” by Imagine Dragons. I didn’t usually listen to Top 40 stuff, but that song I knew. When he sang the lyrics that spoke of wanting to shelter someone, he glanced up and saw me. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into him. He looked down at me and nodded to join in. And I did. It was amazing. My heart floated in my chest. It was exhilarating.

  We walked toward Mitchell’s, but Becki soon ditched me for the rock god and they headed toward her dorm. Calon and the guys wouldn’t go on stage until later, and it seemed he and Becki enjoyed getting to know one another better. They also seemed to be taking things slow, which was not at all Becki’s speed. But she appeared to be content with the way things were going. I waved goodbye and headed to Mitchell’s alone. When I walked down the stairs and rounded the corner, my eyes landed on my one true love. My Jake.

  Jake and I had shared a pretty passionate kiss on Tuesday. Then he walked out on me. I was awake all night long a
fter that, trying to decide if I should go up to his apartment or wait it out. I needed to be close to him. The emotions from opening up to Calon, and then our stupid fight, had me in knots. I just needed his comfort, yet he wasn’t there. I missed him terribly, but I was nervous about surprising him. I wasn’t sure how he would react since we hadn’t even spoken since he’d confronted me about Calon.

  He looked relaxed and happy. I took that as a good sign. He was drying some glasses behind the bar and laughed with a group of girls crowded around one stool. Their eyes glimmered and they flirted. He leaned down to put the glasses away under the bar. One of the girls I couldn’t see, because she was buried inside her gaggle of friends, reached out and tousled his hair. He flashed a smile and a wink then ran his hands through the dark mess to bring back some semblance of order. Still high from my debut as a street performer, I stood there at the bottom of the steps and watched him.

  Jake moved naturally behind the bar. It was chaotic, but he ducked and slid and moved out of the way at all the right times. He was good at the dance, a natural. And not much frazzled Jake. Well, not much except Calon.

  He talked and laughed with patrons and handled the simple orders. He handed over bottles and pitchers of beer while fisting tips into his pocket right and left. Buzz wasn’t letting the trainees mix drinks yet, but the price point didn’t seem to matter; the boy was making a killing off those blue eyes. I walked up to the bar and took it all in.

  Although super nervous about how my unannounced visit to the bar would go, I enjoyed my front row seat for the “Jake Show.” My stomach fluttered, and I had to cross my legs to hold in the pent-up sexual feelings the blasting music and view of Jake evoked. We hadn’t walked away from each other on the best note, but that didn’t curb my attraction to him. I wasn’t worried he would walk away from me in the literal sense. I don’t even think I was angry with him when he’d been so heated and verbal about Calon. His tone and discontent had taken me by surprise, and I was uneasy about where his heart was, but I wasn’t mad. He was, however.

  I’d left him a couple messages, but made it clear I wanted him to call me when he was ready, not because he felt obligated. I was disappointed that, even after three days, he still hadn’t called. The more I thought about it, the more anxious I got. I worried that my decision to show up while he was working came from the high I was on from singing with Calon. I second guessed myself and slowly got up to leave.

  I turned around as he jogged back over to his groupies when one of them stuck in the middle threw her hand in the air and yelled something that ended in, “Jaaaaaaaaake.” I rolled my eyes at the anonymous drunkard and wondered if she was annoying Jake, or if he was just riding on the adrenaline of the evening and not letting anything bug him. I would bet on the latter of those two.

  I got halfway up the stairs before I looked back again. Just then, he leaned in to hear what the drunken girl was saying. All of a sudden, the group of girls ran to the dance floor, leaving her behind. It was uncomfortable seeing Jake with his face that close to another girl, so I looked away. But I looked back just as she tucked her hair behind her ear revealing her profile.

  Jessica.

  I realized I wasn’t as confident in our relationship as I thought I was. I ran the rest of the way upstairs. My phone rang, but I was in no shape to answer it, so I let it go to voicemail. Part of me hoped it was Jake, calling on his break, but I also didn’t want the “I’m sorry I flipped out and I miss you” call to be ruined by my current state of mind. Maybe I did have double standards.

  I ran back to my apartment, which only brought a torrential storm of Noah déjà vu that threatened to peel back every layer of self-esteem I had carefully placed around my heart in the last couple months.

  The jealousy I’d felt when I saw Jake flirting with Jessica couldn’t even be compare to the devastation that struck me when Noah told me he’d cheated on me. But dealing with the worry that Jake could possibly reconnect with Jessica, while navigating through my own personal hell, threatened my sanity. It triggered overwhelming panic and a level of anxiety that scared me. I climbed into bed, clothes, shoes, and all. I tried to get a handle on my emotions. I couldn’t let Noah decide how I would interpret the situation. I needed to hold it together. I was the one who’d let him go and told him he deserved better.

  My mind flipped and played Devil’s advocate. I hadn’t waited for Jake to leave Mitchell’s. What if he left with Jessica? What if she was really drunk and he walked her home? The rolling tide knocked me on my ass. That’s exactly how the story went when Noah all but fucked Madison after walking her drunk Kappa Delta roommate home following a Sigma Chi social. Panic seized my chest, and I drew breaths double time. I couldn’t handle this again. I needed to sleep so I could think about everything rationally in the morning. But there was no way I could calm down long enough to relax.

  I threw the covers off and ran to the kitchen. I yanked every cupboard door open. Damn, Stacy gave all our alcohol to the girls next door before she left, assuming I would be living at Jake’s for the summer. Shit. I needed a drink. I needed something to take the edge off. It was as if someone was holding me still while they rubbed salt into a gaping wound they’d just inflicted. It wasn’t something I could outrun. It was inside me. You can’t run from your own heart, and mine beat so fast, it was hard for my breathing to keep up.

  I flung the freezer door open when I remembered the bottle of SKYY vodka we always kept there. Like the gold at the end of the rainbow, I grabbed the bright blue bottle and watched the frost appear as it hit the warmth of the kitchen. Droplets fell from where my heated fingers held on for dear life. I spun the cap and sucked on the mouth of the bottle like I was dying of thirst. But it wasn’t thirst I was trying to ease; it was pain.

  I felt like I was going crazy with all the voices in my mind trying to make sense of what I felt versus what I should be feeling. I sucked down more vodka and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I slid down the wall in the kitchen and sat on the hard floor with my arms wrapped around my legs and my head rested on my knees. The room spun, but I wasn’t sure if it was a result of the vodka or the state of my heart. I needed to sleep. If I could just sleep, the pain would go away. I put the bottle to my lips and poured the stinging liquid down my throat. I choked and sputtered. It was vile. I hated the taste of vodka, but the numbing buzz was more of a pull than the push of my conscience telling me to stop.

  I pulled myself up using the edge of the counter. I accidentally kicked the bottle over and vodka spilled out onto the linoleum. Shit. What a waste. I whisked up the bottle by its neck, took another healing swig, and walked over toward the iPod dock. I snapped my phone down onto the device, tapped “Nap Playlist”, and hit shuffle. I fell back onto the couch as “Comfortably Numb” lulled me momentarily. I closed my eyes, but only for a moment, because that made the room spin faster. Roger Waters’ voice was followed by P!NK and “Fuckin’ Perfect.” I stood and started to pace. I had to walk to keep the room from spinning off its axis.

  I finished the blue bottle with one last swallow then stumbled toward the kitchen to put it in the sink and splash some water on my face. But my brand new pair of ballet flats hit the puddle of spilt vodka, and, as my feet flew out from under me, my head whipped backwards and slammed the corner of the archway. I went down and everything went black.

  ****

  The room is dark but I can hear his voice. My skin crawls and I am desperate to get away from him, but I can’t see anything. I sit straight up, but I don’t know which direction to run. If I could run. I feel so weak.

  “Gracie. Just this one time. Just once, for me.”

  Noah’s plea is quiet but deep, almost a growl, and I can feel his hot breath on my face. It sends a shiver through my body. His hands grab me by the shoulders and he forces me down on the bed I just woke up on. He positions himself between my legs. The room is so dark, I can’t see anything. But the stench of stale beer tells me we are at Sigma Chi. I don’t even
know what room we are in. I don’t know if he’s naked or clothed. I can feel I have an oversized t-shirt on but no panties.

  “Gracie, stop moving! He presses my shoulders into the mattress and shakes me a little.

  I try to protest. I can’t. I can’t speak or scream or yell. I don’t know what’s wrong. My mind is struggling to give my body the wherewithal to move, fight...something.

  Nothing.

  He is on his knees between my legs and he presses my legs farther apart.

  No! Noah! Stop! Please don’t do this again!

  “Relax, baby. Once you do it, you’ll thank me.” Suddenly, his face is next to my ear and his breath smells like liquor.

  His hands are on my ankles within seconds. But, wait! I still feel them on my shoulders. My mind is reeling with confusion.

  Noah, please stop. What are you doing?

  None of this makes sense. Where did the other set of hands come from? How can he be lying between my legs and holding my shoulders and my ankles? I hear the sound of a zipper. Music that threatens to split my eardrums blasts into the room and reverberates through the springs in the mattress. Even if I could yell, no one would hear me now, not over the volume of the sinister song playing. I feel like a prisoner in my own body. Why can’t I move? Something stole my voice.

  A heavy weight on my hips and stomach presses all the air from my lungs and his face is at my ear again.

  “Relax. You’re gonna love this.” It wasn’t Noah’s voice. A sharp pain steals what breath I have left and something fills me deeply. I want to vomit. I try with all my might to escape the rigorous thrusting that feels like it’s tearing me to shreds. My body fights until his stills and he falls onto me, completely slack.

  “Thanks, Gracie. You’re a good lay. Tight. Just the way I like it.”

  Oh God. Jesus. Someone help me. Noah, help!

  I feel the mattress rise as his body leaves the bed. I feel hands switch on my ankles and someone climbs back between my trembling thighs. The hands at my shoulders never move. But his voice is still there.