by S. L. Naeole
The knock on my door startled me, and before I could answer, it opened, and Janice walked in, a plate balanced in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other. “Graham said you might not be feeling up to coming down for breakfast, so I brought it up to you. Are you okay?”
My head whipped to where Robert had been standing just seconds before, and felt immense relief that he had managed to disappear before Janice had walked in. It wouldn’t bode well for me if two people walked in on us together.
“I’m feeling okay. I was planning on coming down in a few minutes.” I pointed to my clothes that I had left on top of the dresser, and smiled apologetically.
Janice took everything in without missing a beat, and placed the plate and bottle on the nightstand next to the bed. She walked over to me and took my hand, examining the ring in the same manner as Robert had just moments earlier.
“This is a beautiful ring, Grace. I don’t recall you wearing it before. When did you get this?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Robert gave it to me for Christmas; it’s his birthstone,” I rambled quickly, being very careful not to let a stammer of nervousness break through.
Janice nodded her head, her lower jaw sticking out in the same way a disapproving mother’s would. “At least it’s on your right hand.”
I giggled nervously. “Of course. It’s way too early to be thinking about lifetime commitments.”
I felt something tickle my ankle and I quickly lowered my eyes to the floor and choked back a gasp. Small wisps of black mist were curling around my feet. Robert hadn’t left…he was hiding under my bed, and if Janice were to look down, she’s swear there was a fire beneath my mattress…
I quickly raised my eyes to hers and grinned like a fool. “So, I’ll get dressed and we can talk about this downstairs?”
Janice shook her head and patted the bed. Oh-no. This didn’t look good. “I think you and I need to talk about a few things, Grace.”
Damnit. Damn-damn-damn that Graham and his big mouth. Damn that blond haired jock and his inability to keep his mouth shut.
“About what?” I sat down at the very edge of the bed, teetering on the verge of completely falling off both the bed and sanity.
“Grace, I know you’re legally an adult now. I know that you’re very responsible, but there’s something that…well…gosh, this is difficult. I want to know what you know about sex.”
I felt the blush rise in my cheeks, and I giggled nervously. It wasn’t the giggle of an experienced eighteen year-old, I could tell that right away and, thankfully, so could Janice. “I know that I haven’t had any, and I won’t be having any for a while either,” I answered truthfully after the nervous laughter receded.
Janice’s face held a look of disbelief. “Well. I assumed that with how close you and Robert have become, especially so quickly…I’d understand if you’ve moved onto that stage-”
“Janice, I know what you’re trying to get at, but please believe me when I say that Robert and I are taking things slowly. Very slowly. Almost too slowly.” I felt the tickle around my ankle once more and wished I had a vacuum at that moment…being sucked through a HEPA filter would do him a world of good…
“Well, I think that’s good, Grace. You’re young, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you—you don’t want to move too quickly on something that might only be a fleeting part of your life,” Janice said, her smile sincere, as she reached for my hand.
I snatched it out of hers roughly. Her words hadn’t been meant to hurt, but they did, and I didn’t like the way that made me feel. “Janice, Robert isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I. What we have isn’t fleeting. He’s going to be a permanent part of my life, just as permanent as you are in Dad’s.”
I saw her smile fade a little as she allowed my words to sink in. “Grace, please tell me you haven’t started to think about a future with him. It’s too soon!”
I swallowed down the bitterness and replied calmly, “I’m not talking about us getting married, Janice. But, I don’t know…maybe in a few years that might happen. But even if it doesn’t, Robert will still be a part of my life.”
Janice once again reached for my hand, and this time held it firmly between hers, unwilling to allow me to pull away again. “Grace, you’ve got to understand that I’m only asking you about this because I care about you. Your father told me that he hadn’t talked about any of this with you, and I don’t want you to make any foolish and avoidable mistakes.”
I understood what her reasons were, but I knew that my life wasn’t meant to follow the same path that every other girl that lived in Heath’s would. Robert entering my life had proved that.
I looked back at the ring on my finger and felt the need to ask the question… “Janice, what would you say if Robert said that he wanted things to be permanent between the two of us?”
Janice’s face expressed a look of shock and alarm. Me and my big mouth. “Why, Grace? Are you actually considering it? Did he ask you to marry him?” Her thumb pressed the ring on my finger into my skin, and I could feel the circulation begin to cut off.
“No, Janice, he didn’t ask me to marry him, but judging by your reaction, I can see that it wouldn’t exactly be a good thing if he had.” I knew that though my question had more to do with Robert’s desire to make my life more permanent in the literal sense, she had taken it figuratively, and the ramifications were now starting to rain down on my head as she stood up and began to pace the small space between the wall housing my window and my bed.
“He’s a nice boy, Grace, and I’m very glad that he’s in your life, but I think this is all moving a bit too fast for you. You only just turned eighteen. You’re still in high school. Who knows what will happen when the two of you graduate and head off to college.
“And what’ll your dad think? You’re his only daughter. He already thinks you two spend far too much time together as it is, and now with Graham here, what’s Robert gonna think? What will he feel he needs to do to keep your eyes on him?”
I coughed as a bubble of laughter tried to break through. “Janice,” I began, but was instantly cut off by her continued argument.
“Robert’s not from here, Grace. He grew up in Europe. Ameila and I had a long conversation about his childhood. Europe has different ideas about relationships and sex. They’re much more open there, much more…free. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to. I know you said that you’re taking things slowly, but what if he doesn’t want to? What if-”
I’d had enough. She was speaking about Robert like he was some hormonally driven teenager. I wish!
“Janice, could you stop? Please?” I interrupted, upset—not at the fact that she was right, but because she was so wholly and unequivocally wrong. “Robert isn’t the one wanting to rush things. I am. When I said that we’re taking things slow, I meant that he’s taking things slow.” I stared down at the ground and saw the fading mist pull back beneath my bed. “He won’t even kiss me without me putting up a fight. Sometimes it feels like he’s allergic to me or something, and he doesn’t want to get a rash.”
Janice stared at me, stunned by my little revelation. “You…”
“Yes, me. I’m the one who’s pressuring him! So you see why you have nothing to worry about?”
She nodded her head slowly, as though any quick and sudden movements would contradict the act itself. She had seen the disappointment in my eyes, and heard the rejection in my tone; she knew I wasn’t just telling her this to get her off my back.
“Grace, I…”
“You don’t need to worry about it, Janice. You’re concerned for me. I get it. I just want you to know that there’s no need to be.”
I stood up to grab my clothes from off the dresser, a sign that the conversation was, as far as I was concerned, over. Janice understood and stood up, too. She walked quietly to the door and turned to face me before leaving. “Grace, if Robert wants to wait, I wouldn’t doubt it’s becaus
e he respects you. It’s hard to find boys like that anymore…most boys are bundles of hormones wrapped up in pretty packaging. He’s a miracle, Grace. I hope you realize that.”
I watched as she left, closing the door behind her, and wondered whether she knew how right she was.
She has no clue.
I leaned back as Robert held me, understanding that I would need him right then. “She’s right about more than just that.”
I knew he was smiling. I didn’t have to see his face to know. I could feel it in the way he brought me closer to his body, the way his breathing slowed down, the way he rubbed my arms and leaned his cheek against the top of my head.
“So, what time are we supposed to meet tonight?” I asked, needing the change of subject before I had to admit that he was right, too.
I have already asked Lark to drop you off at eleven.
Eleven. That was more than twelve hours away. I turned around to face him, knowing that in a few short minutes, he’d be gone. “I’m going to miss you,” I whispered, and leaned my cheek against his shoulder, knowing that where he’d be going was a dark and twisted part of his life that I couldn’t follow, even though a part of it always followed him home.
You are my home. Wherever you are, that’s where I’m meant to be.
I smiled at the words that filled my thoughts. Feeling silly, I wiped at eyes that had started to dew up, and pushed away. “You should get going.”
He nodded his head and headed towards the window while I watched his back move lithely and surely. Suddenly he was in front of me again, and his hands were on my face, his mouth on mine. It was a gentle, almost friendly kiss, but there were things happening between us that I knew would never happen with anyone else, or to anyone else. This was what miracles were. A kiss from nowhere, for no reason, that held every promise known to man.
I love you, Grace Anne Shelley.
I felt the glossy cover of my eyes finally fall down my face in ribbons of moisture. “I love you, Robert N’Uriel Bellegarde.”
And then he was gone. Taking with him my heart, and my love, because what he now had to do went against everything the lifeless heart in his chest required. “Come home to me whole,” I whispered as I touched my lips, hoping that this was a sign of things to come.
***
I brought my plate down to the kitchen after consuming the spinach omelet and tater tots that Janice had brought up, and cringed as the smell of burnt coffee and cold grease assailed my nostrils. I washed my plate, adding to the others that sat in the rack, and headed to the living room, surprised to find that no one was there; the blanket and pillows I had given to Graham had been put away, and Graham’s backpack was nowhere to be seen.
“Graham?” I called out, half expecting him to jump out from some corner just to hear me yelp, but nothing came of my call. I walked over to the front door and turned the handle, pulling the door open to the crisp, morning air. The last morning of the year.
“Graham?” I called out again, and looked for the familiar green vehicle parked on the street. It wasn’t there. “Where’d you go so early?” I asked myself aloud, and looked at the driveway fronting his house.
There was a white truck sitting there which meant that Richard was home. Following some stupid need to see if he was alright, I walked towards the house. The front door was locked. I bent down to lift the mat that sat in front of the door and grabbed the key hidden there, unlocking the door with it. The smell was even worse now than it was last night; I lifted the neck hem of my shirt above my face to block out the odor. “Mr. Hasselbeck?” I called out, my call muffled by the thin fabric.
I heard the sound of voices just beyond the entranceway, and I made my way towards the living room. The television was on, a home movie playing on the screen. I recognized it right away as Graham’s tenth birthday. It had the prerequisite balloons and cake, but there had also been a very belligerent clown that taught us several new words that we had yet to learn but had a great deal of fun putting to use.
I watched the screen as ten year old Graham blew out his candles amid the cheers of everyone around him, including his mother who had been wielding the camera. I smiled as he called out my name and pulled the mousy creature that I recognized as nine year old me from the back of the crowd of kids. “You get first slice, Grace,” he said cheerfully, and handed me one of the pre-sliced pieces on a character covered paper plate.
“Why did we invite Grace?” I heard whispered from behind the camera. The voice was slurred, and the way the camera shifted to the side a bit, I knew that its owner probably reeked of some alcoholic beverage or another. “She’s a freak, Ivy. She doesn’t belong here with the normal kids.”
I recognized the voice as that of the clown, and wondered how close he was to Graham’s mother to refer to her by first name. “She’s Graham’s best friend. He would have been miserable if she weren’t here, and you know it. I don’t care what other people say about her or the accident, Richard. She’s a good friend to our son, and she deserves the benefit of the doubt, just like anyone else would want. Now go over there and start acting like a clown and less like a damn drunk.”
I watched in muted shock as the belligerent clown suddenly appeared in front of the camera and started honking on a horn he pulled out of his pocket. “Hey hey, kids! It’s joke time! Wanna hear about the three guys who walked into the bar…”
The image started to fast forward and it was only then that I noticed Graham’s father sitting on the sofa, a bottle of beer in one hand, the remote in the other. He was staring at me, no remorse or embarrassment on his face at having his opinion of me exposed like that. “What are you doing in my house, Grace?” he rasped, his eyes red and unfocused, his skin ruddy and blotched from intoxication still visible beneath the days worth of growth that now made up a thin, salt and pepper beard.
“I came to see how you were doing, Mr. Hasselbeck,” I answered truthfully.
I stepped back as he attempted to stand up, not wanting to relinquish either object in his hand and suffering from lack of coordination as a result. “You’re a liar ,” he slurred, stumbling as he finally got to his feet.
I shook my head in denial, and continued to back away from him, his steps becoming surer, if not more determined. “I saw you were home. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His hand flew out at me, the beer bottle that was in it whizzing past my face, and I cringed as I heard it shatter behind me as it hit the wall. “Get out of my house, you freak!”
I turned around and ran outside, stopping only when I heard the door slam shut behind me. I turned around again, shaking slightly from the entire episode. I had never known just how bad Graham’s dad’s drinking had been, or how long it had been going on. The video took it back at least eight years, but you don’t get that way overnight.
I walked over to the steps in front of my house and sat down to wait for Graham’s return. There was so much that he had gone through that he hadn’t shared with me, and I was confused as to why. Was it pride? He couldn’t have thought that I’d judge him based on his father’s drinking, could he? Not Grace the Freak?
The afternoon sun was beginning to remind me of what spring held in store for us when he finally showed up. I waited as he parked the car and exited, taking a long look at the house that held his drunken father, and then finally walk over to me. “Hey Grace! The sun’s out, pretty nice, huh? What are you doing outside?”
I motioned towards his house with my head and frowned. “I went over to see how your dad was doing. He’s watching home movies and drinking. I don’t think he likes me very much right now…or ever.”
A nervous laugh that seemed to startle him came out of his mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair—he did that a lot, I noticed. “It’s the alcohol talking, Grace. You know he loves you.”
I shook my head at the obvious lie. “What I heard wasn’t love. He called me a freak; he was right.”
Graham’s remorseful tone suddenly turned angry
and my mind quickly jumped to his reaction when I had told him that I was in love with him. It had been such a quick turnaround, a nearly 180 degree reversal of emotions, and I had been shocked by it. This second time caused me to worry instead.
“Grace, you need to stop selling yourself short. You’re not a freak. You’re just a girl who happens to not be like everyone else in a way that people can see. I don’t think you’re a freak, and I definitely don’t think Stacy, or Lark think so either,” Graham grumbled, his voice rough with the anger that flashed in his eyes.
“Graham, why didn’t you tell me about your dad? Why didn’t you tell me about the drinking?”
I watched the dark ring of his irises thin out as his pupils widened, nearly swallowing the color completely in its blackness. “I didn’t tell you because I was ashamed of him. I didn’t want you to know, didn’t want you to think of me the same way that I…”
I nodded my head, understanding. He didn’t want me to think of him in the same way that he had thought of me…with pity. I rubbed the top of his spikes with my hand, needing to lighten up the mood a little. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going to get through this together now. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
He looked at me with confusion in his eyes, and pain surrounding his mouth. “Why are you just letting this go?”
I shrugged my shoulders and let out the breath that I had been holding in. “Because you’re my best friend. You helped me through some of the toughest times in my life because you wanted to. I want to help you now, because I want to. No other reason.”
Graham’s eyes traveled towards the ground, and I could see his face twist up with some kind of unseen pain. “I also caused them. After what I did…to know that you’d still want to help me out…you’re the kind of person I should have been happy to be with, Grace. I should have seen what you had to offer to an idiot like me and jumped at the chance. Instead, I acted like a jerk and hurt you in the process. I don’t deserve your friendship…”