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The Gravity of Us

Page 11

by Brittainy Cherry


  “Thank you, Catherine. It’s always a pleasure to meet readers. I’ve been informed tonight that some have not heard of my work, but the fact that you both have is refreshing,” Graham replied.

  “Haven’t heard of your work? Blasphemy! I can’t think of a soul who wouldn’t know of you,” Warren said. “You’re a living legend in a sense.”

  “Sadly, good ol’ Richard seems to disagree,” Graham mocked.

  “Really, Richard? You don’t know Graham’s work?” Catherine said, a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

  Richard laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh no, of course I know his work. I was just teasing.”

  “Your definition of teasing is a bit inaccurate,” Graham replied dryly.

  Talon started to fuss a bit, and I bent down to pick her up, grinning at her sweet face as Graham and Richard waged their own odd war against one another.

  The group could feel the tension building, and Warren broke out a large smile before glancing around the room. “So, Richard, your work is quite unique.”

  Richard stood up, proud. “Yes. I like to think of it as an awakening to all of my deepest and darkest shadows. It’s been a process for me to dig so deep, and for a long time, I had a lot of emotional breakdowns about being so vulnerable and open with myself, let alone the idea of allowing others into my soul. It was a very hard time for me, that’s for sure, a lot of tears, but I made it.”

  Graham huffed, and Richard shot him a stern look.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something funny?”

  “No, except for every single word that just came out of your mouth,” Graham replied.

  “You seem to know it all, don’t you? Well, go ahead, tell me what you see when you look around,” Richard urged.

  Don’t do it, Richard. Don’t awaken the beast.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know my thoughts,” Graham said, standing tall.

  “No, come on, enlighten us, because I’m kind of sick of the attitude,” Richard replied. “Your pretentious tone is extremely unwarranted, and frankly, extremely disrespectful.”

  “Disrespectful? Pretentious?” Graham asked, arching an eyebrow.

  Oh no. I took note of the vein popping out of the side of Graham’s neck, and even though he kept his voice calm, he was growing more and more irritated as he spoke.

  “We’re standing in a room full of paintings and sculptures of your penis, which, if I’m honest, seems to be nothing more than a little man trying hard to overcompensate for something he’s lacking in his life. Judging by his height and need to force people into a room to stare at his cartoonish, oversized genitals, he’s lacking quite a bit.”

  Everyone’s mouths hung open, stunned by Graham’s words. My eyes stayed wide, my chest tight as I yanked on Graham’s arm. “Can I please have a word in the other room?” I asked, but it was much more a demand than a polite request.

  “What was that about?!” I whisper-shouted, carrying Talon into the darkened exhibit where Graham headed.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You. That whole act back there.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

  “Come on, Graham! For once in your life can you not be condescending?”

  “Me? Condescending? Are you joking? He made portraits, of himself, naked, and deemed it as artwork when truly it’s just some kind of hipster bullshit that doesn’t belong in this museum.”

  “He’s talented.”

  “Your idea of talent is jaded.”

  “I know,” I replied harshly. “I do, after all, read your books.”

  “Oh, good one, Lucille. You really told me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Yet unlike your so-called boyfriend, I know my flaws when it comes to my craftsmanship. He believes he’s the best of the best.”

  “What do you mean? What do you mean ‘so-called’ boyfriend?”

  “He doesn’t know you,” he said assertively, making me raise an eyebrow.

  “We’ve been together for more than five years, Graham.”

  “And yet he still hasn’t a clue who you are, which isn’t shocking, because he seems to have his head so far up his own ass he has no time to focus on anyone else.”

  “Wow,” I said, completely baffled by his words. “You don’t know him.”

  “I know his type, the type of people who get the smallest taste of success and feel as if they can toss away the things and people from their past. I don’t know how he used to look at you, but he stares at you as if you’re nothing now. As if you’re below him. I give your relationship two weeks. I bet it’s over in a month, tops.”

  “You’re being a jerk.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. He’s a self-righteous piece of shit. Do you know what the nickname for Richard is? It’s Dick, which is so fitting. I mean really, Lucille, you sure know how to pick ’em.”

  He was fuming, his face bright red as he fiddled with his cuffs nonstop. I’d never seen him so mad, so far from his normal unemotional self.

  “Why are you so angry? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Never mind, forget it. Hand Talon over.”

  “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to explode and be disrespectful to my boyfriend and then tell me to forget it.”

  “I can, and I did.”

  “No. Graham, stop it. For once in your life, just say what you are actually feeling!”

  He parted his lips, but no words escaped him.

  “Really? Not a word?” I asked.

  “Not a word,” he softly replied.

  “Then I think you’re right. I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “I agree.” He stood inches away from me, his hot breaths melting against my skin. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I wondered what he was doing, and he took a few seconds before moving in closer. He straightened his tie, lowered his voice, and spoke so sternly. “Just because you smile and act free doesn’t mean the cage doesn’t exist. It merely means you lowered your standards for how far you’ll allow yourself to fly.”

  Tears burned at the backs of my eyes as he took Talon from my grip and turned to leave. Right before he stepped out of the darkened area, he paused and took a few deep breaths. He turned back my way, locking eyes with mine, and his lips parted slightly as if he were going to speak again, but I held my hand up. “Please, just go,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I don’t think I can take any more tonight, Mr. Russell.”

  The coldness of me using his last name made him stand up straighter, and when he disappeared, my tears began to fall. My fingers wrapped around my necklace, and I took in a few deep breaths. “Air above me, earth below me, fire within me, water surround me…” I repeated the words until my heartbeats returned to a normal pace. I repeated the words until my mind stopped spinning. I repeated the words until I erased the shock Graham had caused to my soul. Then, I headed back to the gala with a fake smile on my lips, and in my head, I repeated my words some more.

  “He’s still calling you?” Richard asked, cleaning up his paintbrushes in the bathroom sink. I leaned against the wall in the hallway, staring down at Graham’s name flashing against the screen.

  “Yup.” I hadn’t seen Graham since he exploded at Richard’s gala five days ago, and he hadn’t stopped calling me since then.

  “And he doesn’t leave a message?”

  “Nope.”

  “Block him. He’s the definition of a psychopath.”

  “I can’t. What if something happens to Talon?”

  Richard glanced my way with an arched brow. “You do know she’s not actually your responsibility, right? As in, she’s not your kid.”

  “I know, it’s just…” I bit my bottom lip and stared down at the phone. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “No, I get it, LuLu. You’re a giving person, but you gotta be careful, because a man like him is just a taker. He’ll take all he can from you and treat you like crap.”

  My mind thoug
ht back on the dinner Graham and I had a week before, the night when he showed me a small, softer side of him I’d wondered about. The thing about Graham Russell was he lived almost completely inside his mind. He never really invited a person to see his inner thoughts or feelings. So, the night he exploded at the art show, it was a complete one-eighty from who I’d come to know him to be.

  Instead of engaging in more talk about Graham, I shifted the conversation. “Do you really have to be gone for a week?”

  Richard walked past me, out to the living room where his suitcases were lying open. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but now that I hit the museum, I have to keep the momentum going, and when you’re invited to a gala in New York City, you go.”

  I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. “Are you sure girlfriends can’t tag along?” I joked.

  He turned around with a smile and kissed my nose. “I wish. I’m gonna miss you.”

  “I’m gonna miss you, too.” I grinned, giving him a light kiss. “And if you want, I can show you exactly how much I’m going to miss you.”

  Richard grimaced and glanced at his watch. “While that sounds ridiculously enticing, I gotta leave for the airport in like twenty minutes, and I’m hardly done packing.” He unwrapped our bodies and went back to his suitcases to pack his brushes.

  “Okay. Well, are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?”

  “No, it’s fine, really, I’ll just get a Lyft. You’re training the new girl at work today, aren’t you?” He glanced at his watch one more time before looking up at me. “I think you’re already late.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Well, okay. Text me before your plane takes off, and call when you land.” I bent down and kissed him on the lips.

  “Okay, sounds good—and, babe?” he called after me as I scooped up my keys to leave.

  “Yes?”

  “Block that number.”

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said, hurrying into Monet’s Gardens through the back door.

  Mari was going over the weekly orders with Chrissy, our new florist. Chrissy was a beautiful woman in her seventies who’d once owned her own floral shop. Teaching her the ins and outs of the shop was easy—she knew more than both Mari and me when it came to flowers.

  When we mentioned that she was over-qualified for the position, she disagreed, saying she’d been a busy florist and shop owner for many years, but it was a lot of work for her to keep up with. She said her friends told her to retire, but her heart knew she needed to be surrounded by flowers for a bit longer and the position at our shop was perfect.

  “No worries.” Chrissy smiled. “I already started arranging the orders for today.”

  “Yeah, and she also taught me this new computer organization system—in other words, I think we hired a wizard,” Mari joked. “Is Richard off to New York?”

  “Yup, sadly enough, but he’ll be back soon.”

  Mari narrowed her eyes. “This is the first time you two have spent a week apart—are you sure you can handle the separation?”

  “I’m planning to binge on comfort foods—kale chips and guacamole.”

  “Sweetheart, no offense, but kale chips are not comfort food,” Chrissy sassed.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her for the past million years!” Mari said with a sigh as she walked over to unlock the front door and open the shop. “But okay, I’m going to take Chrissy with me to set up a wedding in Wauwatosa—do you need anything from us?”

  I shook my head. “No. Have fun! I’ll be here when you get back.”

  As they walked out of the back door, an older gentleman with a fedora walked in the front and was quick to take off his hat.

  My chest tightened seeing him, and when his stare found mine, he smiled wide. “Lucy,” he said warmly, tipping his hat my way.

  “Hi, Ollie. What are you doing here?”

  He walked around a bit, studying the flowers in the shop. “I was hoping to buy a few roses for a special lady.” He gave me his charming smile and started whistling as he wandered around the shop. “Though, I’m not certain which ones she’d like. Will you help?”

  “Of course. Tell me a little about her.”

  “Well, she’s beautiful. She has these eyes that just pull you in, and when she looks at you, she makes you feel like the most important person in the room.”

  My heart warmed hearing him talk so endearingly about the woman. As he continued, we walked around the shop, pulling a flower for each facet of her seemingly vibrant personality. “She’s gentle and caring. Has a smile that lights up a room. She’s smart, too, so smart. She’s not afraid to give a helping hand, even when it’s tough. And the last word to describe her…” he said, reaching out and picking out a deep red rose. “Is pure. She’s pure, untainted by the world’s cruelty. Just simply, easily, and beautifully pure.”

  I took the rose from him, a grin resting on my lips. “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

  He nodded. “She is indeed.”

  I walked to the counter and started to trim the flowers for Ollie as he picked out a red vase. The flowers were an arrangement of different colors and styles—a stunning collection. That was my favorite part of my job: when people came into the store and had no idea what they wanted. Roses were gorgeous, yes, and tulips were pretty, too, but there was something so creatively rewarding about being able to have free range and create a piece that expressed the artistic personality of the customer’s loved one.

  As I tied a bow around the vase, Ollie narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re ignoring his calls.”

  I grimaced for a second, fumbling with the ribbon. “It’s complicated.”

  “Of course it is,” he agreed. “We are, after all, talking about Graham.” He lowered his voice and held his fedora to his chest. “Sweetheart, whatever he did, he’s sorry.”

  “He was cruel,” I whispered, the bow not quite perfect enough, leading me to untie the ribbon to begin again.

  “Of course he was,” he agreed. “We are, after all, talking about Graham.” He softly snickered. “But then again, he’s Graham, which means he didn’t mean it.”

  I didn’t say anything else on the subject. “So, the flowers are $44.32, but I’ll give you the first-time visit discount, bringing it to $34.32.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Lucy. Thank you.” He reached into his wallet and handed me the money. Then he placed his fedora back on his head and turned to leave.

  “Ollie, you’re forgetting your flowers,” I called after him.

  He turned back to me and shook his head. “No, ma’am. A friend of mine asked me to stop in to pick out those for you. I asked him some characteristics about you, and that is the creation that came to be.”

  “Graham said those things about me?” I asked, my chest tightening a bit as I stared down at the arrangement.

  “Well, he gave me one of the words, and I just kind of gathered the others on my own, based on the few moments we spent together.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head. “Listen, I’m not saying you have to go back, but if you do, you’ll prove him wrong.”

  “Prove him wrong?”

  “Graham lives a life where he believes everyone leaves. If his past has taught him anything, it’s that. So, a part of him feels relief that you left. After all, he was certain you’d disappear eventually, anyway. That’s why he can’t for the life of him stand me. No matter what, I keep showing up, and it drives him bonkers. So, if you in any way, shape, or form want to get back at Graham for hurting you, the best revenge is proving to him that he’s wrong, that not everyone is going to walk out. I promise you, he’ll act like he hates you for it, but remember: the truth lies within his eyes. His eyes will thank you a million times over.”

  “Ollie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Which word did he give you? To describe me?”

  “Pure, my dear.” He tipped his hat one last time and opened the door. “He called you pure.”

 
His brow was knitted, and his arms crossed when I approached him. “You came back,” Graham stated, sounding surprised as I stood on his front porch. “Honestly, I thought you would’ve come back days ago.”

  “Why would you have thought that?” I asked.

  “Professor Oliver told me you received the flowers.”

  “Yes.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That was four days ago.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, it took you long enough to come say thank you.” His stern, dry words were not shocking, but still, for some reason, they shook me.

  “Why would I thank you for the flowers? You didn’t even pick them out.”

  “What does that matter?” he asked, brushing the back of his neck. “You still received them. You seem ungrateful.”

  “You’re right, Graham. I’m the rude one here. Anyway, I’m only here because you left a message saying Talon was sick.” I walked into the house without being invited and took off my jacket then laid it on his living room chair.

  “A small fever, but I wasn’t certain that…” He paused. “You came back because she was sick?”

  “Of course I came back,” I huffed. “I’m not a monster. If Talon needs me, I’m here for her. You just didn’t leave a message before today.”

  “Yes, of course.” He nodded. “Listen…”

  “Don’t apologize, it seems too weak.”

  “I wasn’t going to apologize. I was going to say I forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?! For what?”

  He shifted around, picking up my jacket from the couch and hanging it in the front closet. “For being childish and disappearing for days.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m not one to joke.”

  “Graham…” I started to speak then closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to stop myself from saying something I’d regret. “Can you at least for a second accept some kind of blame for how you acted at the museum?”

  “Blame? I meant every word I said to you that night.”

 

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