by Lindsey Iler
“Let’s not get out of hand, okay? I still have to impress the scouts, and I can’t even be drafted until next year.” Graham brushes off my comment.
“Quit acting as if it’s not going to happen.” I smack him, and he traps my hand against his chest. “Think positive.”
“I’m positive I’m going to miss you when you leave.” He kisses me on the cheek as I stand to get dressed.
“I do really miss you.” I slide on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater. His eyes never leave me. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“Thinking about what?” He plasters himself against me.
“The distance between us.” I shrug. “What if I transferred?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” Graham jumps back like I bit him.
“Just hear me out.”
“No, I forbid it. You aren’t giving up your dream for me.”
“You gave up yours for me.”
“You’ve given up enough in the past, Ken. I won’t forgive you if you do something as stupid as transferring to UConn. What would you major in?”
“I don’t need to have a degree in visual arts to dance, Graham.” My fists pinch into my hips.
“Listen to me, if you do this, you will regret it.” His eyes focus on the ceiling.
“Won’t you regret giving up Georgia?”
“How could I regret it? I have you back in my life, and I’m still getting a scout to come. I pretty much am living the dream.” He grins. The laugh lines around his eyes scrunch together when he holds back his laugh.
At the sweet sentiment, I relent. How can you argue with logic like that? “Fine, I’ll forget the whole idea of transferring.”
“Thank you.” Graham steps into a pair of sweatpants.
“For now,” I clarify.
Graham makes a quick snap in my direction, chasing me around his room. I jump onto the bed and bounce around, teasing him.
“Promise me,” he demands.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “I promise.”
“No, Kennedy, say it.”
“Jesus, okay. I promise I won’t transfer behind your back. You do understand though, if I did, we’d be able to sleep in the same bed every night, have breakfast together, and you could touch these whenever you want.” I lift my shirt and bra to cover my face. A crazed giggle erupts from my mouth.
My view’s blocked by the cotton material, but I hear his loud groan. My legs are swept up from underneath me and I bounce down onto the bed.
“You can transfer if you want,” Graham jokes.
“Too late. You made up your mind. I’ll stay in lonely New York, just me and my pink vibrator.” I run my tongue on the inside of my cheek, smirking at him before I duck out his bedroom door and sneak down the stairs.
Rick is in the kitchen, slaving over the stove.
“Do you ever stop cooking?” I lean over his shoulder.
“When you girls are in town, no, I don’t. I refuse to let you eat a bowl of cereal.” He kisses my cheek.
“Can I help?” He nods his head to the eggs. “Scrambled?”
“Yeah. Amanda’s demanding.”
“You guys aren’t, are you?” I question, ready to waltz upstairs and kick her ass. She and my brother aren’t anything serious, but they spend an awful lot of time on the phone.
“I may be an asshole, but I would never overstep your brother. She slept in the bed. I slept on the floor.”
“All the time I’ve spent in this house, and I feel like I don’t really know you.”
“There isn’t much to know. I grew up in New Jersey, typical Italian family. My parents are divorced. Two brothers and one little sister. I played every sport you can imagine growing up, but fell in love with baseball freshman year of high school. Prom King. No serious girlfriends.”
I smile at his blanketed description of himself. “What scares you?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I’m most scared of never being good enough. Dance is the one thing I know I’m good at, but am I good enough?” I ask the rhetorical question and shrug. “Oh, and I’m scared to death of white vans. Like the conversion painter vans.”
Rick gives me a sideways glance and turns back to the French toast in front of him. The spatula pats the side of the griddle. His head bobs up and down in the slightest of motions. Perhaps he’s building the courage to say what he needs out loud.
“Never finding someone to love me.” He takes a deep breath. “My parents had a tumultuous marriage. A couple divorces later to each other, and they finally figured out they couldn’t make it work. I always appreciated how hard they tried for me and my siblings, but I think, in the end, they did more harm than good.” He hands me a plate full of the most delicious smelling French toast. His eyes are like magnets to my own. “So, I guess my biggest fear is I don’t know what love looks like. I’ve never had a good example.”
I take a seat at the island, thinking of what to say, while Rick prepares the rest of breakfast.
“Rick, someday, someone is going to come along and knock you off your feet. You won’t expect it. You may not even want it at that point in your life, but the world doesn’t care if you aren’t prepared. There are probably millions of girls in this world you could fall in love with, but you sure as hell aren’t going to find her by acting like a little bitch who’s hiding away out of fear.”
“Did you just call me a little bitch?” Rick stops pouring the syrup.
A series of claps sing out from the doorway.
“I forgot to warn you. Don’t get into deep conversation with Kennedy. She’ll school the fuck out of you.” Graham grins ear to ear.
“How long were you listening?” Rico asks.
“Long enough.” Graham clutches his chest. “Open your heart to the opportunity to love, Rico, and the universe will answer.” His overdramatic display has me rolling my eyes.
“Be nice.” I poke Graham as he steals a piece of bacon.
After breakfast, the girls and I load the car, deciding to leave earlier than we originally anticipated. Amanda has to cover the evening shift for someone who called in sick.
Graham and I make our goodbye quick. When we know we’ll be together as soon as we get the chance, there’s no reason to draw out the inevitable. The weird thing about Graham and me is, for the first time in a very long time, we aren’t worried. It’s as though we’re being rewarded, and everything is in its rightful place in our lives.
“Before we leave, stop off at the orphanage. I have something to give to Ben,” I say.
As we park, I pull out the box wrapped in Batman paper. When I saw it in the drug store, it reminded me of the first day I met Ben.
“Wait here. I won’t be long.”
Betty answers when I ring the doorbell. “Hey, sweetie. I didn’t know Graham was coming by today.”
“He’ll be by later, but I’m on my way out of town and wanted to see Ben before I left,” I explain, walking past her as she locks the door behind us.
“He’s probably working on his homework.” She smiles at the present in my hand. “Go on in. He’ll be happy to see you. You and Graham are the only things he ever talks about some days.”
Ben is exactly where Betty said he would be. A pencil in his left hand, his head on his other, and a book on the table.
“Hey, buddy.” I slip into the seat next to him. His eyes fall to the package, then search the space behind us. “He’s not with me. Graham will be over later, I’m sure.”
“You came without him?” he asks, his voice shaky and unsure.
“Well, I was thinking the other day. When Graham and I were apart, I sometimes found myself missing him, so I’d look at old pictures.”
“Why were you apart? Didn’t you love each other?” The innocence of his question is maddening.
“Sometimes it’s not always that easy, but anyway.” I push the Batman covered gift to him. He rips it open and flips through the pages. “That way, when you miss Graham, you have something to r
emind you of him.”
Ben’s tiny fingers trace over the pictures in the scrapbook. His movement comes to a complete stop, telling me exactly what page he’s on. I have no doubt he’s reached the picture. The home takes great care to preserve anything from these kids’ past before coming here, and Betty has been gracious enough to give me a photo of Ben’s mother.
“I miss her.” He rests his head on my bicep.
“It’s okay to miss people.” My arm dips under his chin and circles above his head. “But now, when you’re overwhelmed, flip through the pages. You’ll find comfort in them.” My fingers rub soothing strokes through his curly mane. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
I kiss Ben on the top of the head, and without waiting for a response, walk to the door where Betty waits. Ben looks through the pages, running his fingers across every picture.
“What you did for him …” Betty begins to say. Tears flood her eyes.
“He means everything to Graham, which means he means everything to me. I don’t want him to be alone here. I know you guys do your best, but it’s not the same as what he deserves.”
She nods her head slowly. “You know, you’d be a great candidate for foster care.” Betty shrugs and grins at me.
The seed she’s planted in my head is quick to grow.
Once Kennedy leaves, I finish studying. After lunch and a quick run, I shower and check in with Betty to make sure it’s okay to go see Ben. She likes to warn her volunteers about important events in the kids’ lives, and make us aware of any different or difficult situations. Some have rough nights filled with nightmares, and like everyone else, they’re simply allowed to have a bad day.
Ben is on his bed, wearing a teeth baring grin and holding a blue book above his face.
“What you looking at?”
I lay down next to him and recognize a picture of the back of my high school baseball jersey.
“Where’d you get this?” I flip the page and encounter another photo of me. Ben and I inspect every page until we reach the end. The last few pages are photos of whom I assume is his mom. They have the same kind eyes.
“Kennedy came by.” He closes the book and hugs it to his chest.
“She did?” My eyebrows wrinkle.
“Gave me this.” He hands me the album.
“Of course, she did,” I whisper to myself.
“Why’d she have to die? Why was I left here alone?” he murmurs, but his words are loud and clear. He rolls away from me and curls up in a ball. The silent racks of his chest have me fighting my own emotions.
“I know what it’s like to wonder why. Why me? Why can’t he love me?” I breathe deep, hoping to calm myself. “Those are the things I asked myself growing up, but, buddy, someone else’s actions have nothing to do with the love your mom had for you. She loved you.” I reach for the book and flip the pages until I find the photos of Ben with his mom. “Look at this.” He faces me and stares at his mom. “You see her? That’s the one person in the world who loves you most. Her being gone doesn’t change the amount of love she has for you.” Ben’s small fingers skim over the photo of him as a baby, cradled in his mother’s arms. I hug him to my side. “You’re not alone in this.”
“Graham.”
My name smacks both of us back to reality. Betty’s at the door, watching us.
“Come to my office. I need to talk to you.”
After promising Ben I’ll be right back, I walk down the hallway. My mind’s not in the right place when I enter the office. Betty’s behind her desk, files piled high over every surface. She flips through one in particular.
“I need to thank you.” Betty clears her throat. “Ben has been one of our rougher cases, and in a short amount of time, you’ve managed to lighten his world a little bit. Not to mention Kennedy, who somehow knows exactly what he needs without him saying so. She’s a special girl.”
“The book.”
“In places like this, sometimes it’s hard to give the kids enough direct attention to remind them of their lives before these four walls. You two have given that to Ben.”
“That’s all Kennedy.” I hold up my hands in front of me, giving her full credit.
“You didn’t know about the book?”
“Not until I saw it.” I shake my head.
“I mentioned to Kennedy that she’d be a good candidate for foster care. If she’s ever ready to do something like that. It can be hard, but it’s a fulfilling process.” She glances up from the file. “Same goes for you. Food for thought, Graham.”
“I wouldn’t know how to be a dad, Betty.” I stare at the floor and fight my own memories. “Will you tell Ben I had to leave early, but I’ll make sure to come by tomorrow?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Betty apologizes. Her eyes grow sympathetic. “Graham.”
The walls are closing in on me. I wave off her apology as if it’s no big deal, but inside, my lungs heave. It takes every ounce of strength I have not to run outside.
When the fresh spring air hits my face, I find some relief. I understand what Betty is saying. I even know why she’s saying it. What she doesn’t understand is the idea of me being a father figure to anyone feels foreign. The thought has never crossed my mind.
*****
The next morning when I wake up, Betty’s words are still thick in my mind. The house is quiet when I slink down to grab a quick breakfast. Unlike me, the rest of them don’t have a class before ten in the morning. My first class is at eight. Not exactly the smartest decision.
I drive to campus, and when I park, I shoot Kennedy a quick good morning text. Tucking my phone into my pocket, I walk through campus to the building where my psych class is held. Ashlee sits on the brick steps outside the building. Her sheepish expression is reserved for me.
“I don’t have time this morning, Ashlee.” I walk past her.
“Hear me out,” she begs, rushing to block my way.
“You tried to jeopardize my relationship. We have nothing to say to each other.” I storm past her into the building.
Before practice, I head to the gym. After yesterday and my run in with Ashlee this morning, a hard, cleansing sweat is needed. So what if she feels bad? She put me in a position where I could’ve lost Kennedy, and I have no desire to listen to a word she has to say.
A long run on the treadmill and some heavy weights are exactly what I need to clear my mind for a productive practice. By the time I shower afterwards and drive home, I’ve missed two calls from Kennedy. She answers on the first ring.
“What’s up?” I say. “I was at the gym and practice.”
“Do you think you can come to the city next weekend?” she asks, a thread of excitement in her words.
“I’d love to, but I have games that weekend, babe, and I’m already coming this weekend for your performance.”
“Okay.” Disappointment floods her voice.
“What’s going on?
“Nothing, really. I have a thing for group session, but don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. There’ll be other opportunities,” she rambles without pausing for breath.
“Are you sure? If it’s important, I can try to swing it, depending on what time it is.”
“No, don’t worry about it.” Her deep sigh is filled with regret. “I’m heading into work now. Is it okay if I call you when I’m out?”
“Of course it is. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” And she hangs up.
Something different about her voice sets me on edge. She may have said it wasn’t important, but I know there’s a reason she wants me to come, but she won’t tell me. I pull up my contact list and push Violet’s name.
“Hel-looo?” she answers. She sounds so confused, I almost laugh.
“Are you with Kennedy?” I ask.
“No, she left for work almost twenty minutes ago.”
“Okay, good. Do you know about something happening with her group next weekend?”
“No, should I?” A guy sp
eaks in the background. A guy who’s not Dan. She shushes him, but forgets to cover the receiver. “Is that all you needed?”
“Violet.” My voice lowers. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Is. That. All. You. Needed?” she barks.
“Yeah, but I’d be an asshole if I didn’t say anything. Dan’s one of my best friends. I understand if you’re going through something you can’t explain to anyone, but let me leave you with something.”
“I’m listening.” Her bored tone lets me know I need to make it quick before she hangs up on me.
“Two days, two months, two years from now, imagine you run into Dan. He’s with someone new. When you picture that day in your head, does your chest ache? If the answer is yes, tell whoever the fuck that is to leave. You’ll regret it. Trust me.”
“Mind your own business, Graham.”
“I’m just trying to be a good friend.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispers. The sadness in her voice is hard to hear.
“I don’t? Loving Kennedy is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Nothing is guaranteed. She and I are the perfect example of the sentiment. Don’t do anything you can’t take back. That’s all I’m saying.”
I push end. I’m torn between a sense of guilt and relief. For once, Kennedy and I aren’t the ones struggling. With that thought, I reverse out the driveway. Since I don’t have class tomorrow, and practice isn’t until the afternoon, I make the trip to see someone who could use a friend right now.
By the time I’m on his doorstep, it’s eight at night. Dan opens the door, a dumbfounded look on his face. I shrug as if my presence needs no explanation. We don’t talk about Violet once, but his pain is strong. He’s loved her since freshman year of high school. Her pushing him away isn’t going to stop those feelings. We eat pizza and play video games like we use to when girls weren’t so complicated.
When I wake up the next morning, he’s on the loveseat across from me. His head hangs low, and his giant hands envelop his neck
“I don’t know what to do, man. I always have such great advice for everyone, but now on the cusp of losing her, I don’t know what I need to do.”
“I don’t think there’s really anything for you to do,” I answer his concern.